Page 18 of Halluci-Dating A Demon
Throwing his head back, Arien laughs, singing another made-up song about his wobbelous being faster than me as streaks of slime are left behind in every part of the sand the creatures touch. I grab onto the tough skin, pinching the extra folds between my fingers as we move faster.
“Duck,” Arien yells as we reach trees with low branches. Leaves attach themselves to my hair as I lower my head at the last minute.
Arien laughs harder, his lips turning a soft purple and cheeks tinting with the same pretty color. He reaches for my hand and without any hesitation, I let him take it. I’m different here and don’t have the need to hold myself back with anything.
“‘Drive’ by Hoobastank,” he shouts, and I shake my head.
“You’re horrible at this guessing stuff.”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
I bite back an almost smile. “Nope. That would make things too easy, and I look forward to what wrong answer you’ll give me next.”
He groans, bouncing up and down on the wobba whatever it’s called as it speeds up, passing mine. When I catch up to him, he yanks his to the right and it takes a sharp turn. Followinghis movements, I make my ride do the same, and then out of nowhere the sluglike creature under me turns into a crystal-clear rock glittering in the light. The dusty-looking areas remind me of sugar.
“Go ahead,” he says, lying back in the tall, waving grass.
I tilt my head, lowering my gaze to the powdery stuff rubbing off on my hands. “Do what now?”
“Lick your hand,” he says with a high-pitched sound wrapping around his words. “It’s how we get our sugar. Except it’s not called that here . . . It actually doesn’t have a name, but it’s good for giving you a little jolt on your tongue and offering a spurt of energy.”
Hesitating a little, I study my hand closely and rub my fingers over the soft, silky powder. It’s very similar to powdered sugar. Lowering my face, I swipe my tongue over the back of my hand and there’s a zinging sensation on my tongue. So much sweeter but with no added flavors. I wouldn’t mind eating this every day instead, though. Simple, but satisfying nonetheless. But why have simple when I can have a reason to buy cotton-candy-flavored everything?
Staring in Ariens’s direction, I take in the way the purple strands of his hair shine in the bright light. It’s nothing like our sky. No blue or white, only bright light. It’s hard to explain. Too blinding to look up at for too long with your eyes open, Arien has his shut wearing a serene expression.
Folding his arms behind his head, his hoodie slides up his hips revealing more of his inner thighs. A shiver runs through me, and as if my legs have a mind of their own, they carry me to where he is. The grass feels better the closer I get, and when our arms touch, he shields his face and rubs a thumb over the corner of my lips. Can’t let any of that agalate go to waste.
My tongue sneaks out before he can bring his finger to his mouth, and I swipe along his skin. “No, we really shouldn’t.”
His breaths shallow. As he inches his face closer to mine, his chest rises and falls heavily, a purple hue spreading across his body. “How greedy of you, not wanting to share with me.”
“I still left some for you. Right here.” I brush my lips over his, my hands reaching for him as I wake up. No paralysis this time. No him. I go right from sleeping to being awake, rubbing my head as I stare at the leftover cotton candy on my table. I was too much of my old self in there . . . but also someone else.
“I’m sorry,” I say up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking sorry, Adam. I ran toward a flicker of happiness after taking it away from you, and I got closer to him when I struggled so hard to let Brody in.” Doesn’t this make me worse than before? I don’t understand what’s happening in my dreams, but the guilt slips far away when he shows up and all that’s left is him and me, racing on strange creatures and getting a new kind of sweetness from each other.
It’s starting to have lasting effects when I wake up too. I stand from the couch, and as I walk into the kitchen, a small crystal like the one in my dreams is sitting on the table with a note.
“Audioslave’s ‘Like a Stone?’”
Picking up the pen—while keeping one eye on the shining rock that’s covering the table in some of its sweet dust—I write my response.
“No. You get one more chance and then you’ll have to move on to a new question.”
I bring the rock to my nose, and it has that same wonderful scent he left on my blanket. It’s so easy to give in to him, while for three years it was so hard to be what Brody needed.
Was it because I connected the biggest tragedy in my life to him? Was it because he was there too, and when I see him, I’m temporarily back in that car? Is it because Arien makes me forget I ever lost anything at all, making new memories more consuming than the old ones?
Sighing, I gather a tiny amount of agalate from the smooth surface of the crystal and lick my fingers. Closing my eyes, I think back to when our lips were touching, and I try to go back there. I try and try, unable to open that portal again—unable to reach that peace again—and when I open my eyes, I’m all alone, with my grief hitting me hard in the chest. I really do suffer more this way. So maybe it really is okay to enjoy the cute little demon’s company if I feel much worse when he leaves compared to when I never knew him at all. He’ll see why I can’t be loved again soon enough. He’ll see what Brody sees—what Adam should have seen—so he doesn’t get close enough to regret ignoring the signs that Brody saw clearly when it was only us two.
Nine
Arien
Strolling out of Pandora’s Books, I glance across the street. Elias is nowhere in sight, and I glance at the new watch I got to manage my time better. He should be working. Having thirty minutes to spare, I cross the road, looking both ways for fast-moving cars. The door is held open for me by an older woman, who gives me a toothy smile as I walk toward the cool, welcoming air, and I give her a silent, “Thank you.”
A man turns his nose up at me, while his friend turns around and says, “They let just anyone in here nowadays. Human form should be a requirement when entering public places.”
Ignoring their cruelty, I approach the counter and browse the drinks menu. “What can I get you?” a slender man with shaggy honey-colored hair asks, straightening his glasses.
