Page 106 of Deviant

I suddenly find myself listening intently, surprised puppy-dog-eyes is so devastated by the couple’s predicament instead of worrying about his own.

“It’s just bad luck, I guess.” He shrugs, using his trekking pole to sweep aside some fallen leaves from his path with more force than necessary. “Sorry. I’m not usually a downer, but I can’t help feeling for them, you know?” He then shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge any lingering negativity that the couple’s hardship has caused him, and plants that stupid-ass goofy grin back on his face. “Now for the good part.” He claps his hands excitedly. “Let’s talk about all the hot single ladies we got with us on this psychotic venture.” He wiggles his brows before eyeing the girls in front of us. “So we already talked about the firecracker that is currently trying to keep pace with David, but Ruby doesn’t hold a candle to the other four girls in our group. In front of us is Mackenzie, the mayor’s daughter—probably the only girl here who needs no introduction, but right beside her is none other thantheHarper Thomas,” he emphasizes the ‘the’like that should mean something to me. “She’s all sorts of hot. I’ve had a crush on Harper since freshman year, but a girl like that would have never looked at me twice. I guess now that we’re all trapped to the same fate, she kind of has to, huh?” He bites his knuckles as he stares at her ass a few feet in front of us.

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at him like some prepubescent girl.

We’re literally walking to our deaths and this guy is thinking about his dick.

Though as I glance over at Mackenzie and Harper, I just don’t see what all the big fuss is about. They could be carbon copies of each other with their blonde ponytails and snug-fitted hiking pants so everyone can attest to the firmness of their asses. Don’t even get me started on why they are wearing tight V-neck t-shirts when it’s like eight degrees outside. Though I suspect the reason for their particular choice in outfits has something to do with the fact that everyone can see their tits bounce with every step they take. They leave nothing to the imagination. Just one look at the pair, and I already know what they are—easy disposable fucks. Maybe because I’m older, my tastes are just a little more refined than the kid’s. For everything there’s a season and apparently easy fucks no longer do it for me.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to drool all over your jacket,” he says pointing at the bit of dribble that made its way to my sleeve jacket.

He goes to grab my sleeve to clean the slobbering mess, but I snatch my arm away from him and clean it up myself.

This kid.

“Oh, wait, wait! I almost forgot,” he says, his excitement bubbling over as he tilts his head back, signaling for me to take a peek at the girls behind us. “We still have two more hotties to talk about.”

The corner of my lips dip into a frown when my eyes land on an exhausted Rowen as she wipes the sweat off her brow with a handkerchief. I turn my head front and center before she catches me staring. “No introduction needed. I already know who she is.”

“Oh, shit… that’s right,” the kid slaps his palm over his forehead like he should have known better than to try to introduce Rowen to me. “I totally forgot that Rowen used to be Nora’s BFF. Fuck. Sorry. I really dropped the ball on that one.” He then grows silent as if trying to figure out what he could say to make up for bringing my sister’s memory to the forefront of my mind. “Nora was a cool chick—the coolest,” he finally says as if his opinion matters shit to me. When he sees the scowl on my face, he quickly realizes his mistake and decides against ever bringing up Nora’s name again.

“Okay, obviously you know Rowen—my bad—but I bet you don’t know the girl that she’s currently walking with,” he starts, and before I can tell him I don’t give a rat’s ass, he starts chattering away again. “Her name is Abigail Jackson, but everyone calls her Abbie for short. Like Mackenzie, she just turned eighteen this year too, which is all sorts of shitty because that means she got selected on her first year attending the Harvest Festival too. Anyway, I doubt you’ll get much out of her. She’s the kind of quiet mouse you usually find hiding away in a library somewhere. Shame, cause she’s pretty cute. That red hair would really do it for me if I hadn’t already vowed my undying love for Harper.”

Jesus Christ, this kid!

“Listen here, puppy—”

“It’s Andy, actually,” he corrects, his big brown eyes lighting up now that I’ve decided to join what had been a one-sided conversation up to this point.

“Honestly, I don’t care,” I retort. “Not sure if you know this, but this shit isn’t a game. We’re not here to make friends or to find our fucking soulmate. The sooner you get that into your thick skull, the better. It might save your life.”

Andy goes silent for a minute, his head bowed, staring at the ground as we continue on our path.

“I hear what you’re saying, I do. But here’s the thing. I’m twenty-one. That’s it—just twenty-one. I’ve barely lived at all. Up until yesterday, I hadn’t even decided what I was going to do with my life, so you can imagine my shock to learn that I no longer had to, since I’m dead already. Seriously. You’re looking at a dead man walking. And knowing that shit… well, it kind of messes with your head. So if I prefer to distract myself with stupid shit just so I don’t have to think about all the ways I might die, can you really blame me?”

Fuck.

A part of me feels bad for the kid’s sob story, while the other part knows that everyone here has one of those—me included.

“If you’re looking for sympathy or some shit, you knocked on the wrong door, kid. I’m all out of shits to give,” I reply, though my gentle tone would suggest otherwise. “Not sure if you know this, but I haven’t been exactly living the life either.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard about your mom passing a few days back. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. You didn’t kill her.”

His forehead bunches at the odd statement, but at least he no longer holds the expression of a kicked puppy.

“Still, I’m sorry. And if you want me to leave and walk with someone else, I will. Just thought you could use some company. I sure wouldn’t mind it.”

“Look,” I let out an exaggerated exhale. “If you want to be my hiking partner, I guess I could do worse. Just try not to irritate me too much and we’ll be fine.”

“Deal,” he says, back to all smiles. But my warning must fall on deaf ears because the kid starts yapping again like an excited chihuahua not five minutes later.

On second thought, the kid is all golden retriever.

The Scourge is going to eat him alive.

Fuck.

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