Page 19 of Demon Kissed
Because, apparently, I don’t want to live as much as I thought I did the other day.
His hands curl into fists, and I grin up at him. “This is so fun, Mr. D!” I lift my hands up so he can high-five them.
But he turns suddenly and pulls the attendance sheet from his pocket. “William Washington! Get down here!”
Oh shit. Kill me now.
Seriously.
It would be a mercy killing.
William slides into place where Raz used to be, smiling softly. He puts his hands up and gently taps them against mine as Raz instructs him what to do.
I’m frozen like a statue as William’s sweaty palms smack mine repeatedly. He’s touching me. He’s touching me! But for some reason, maybe because his hands are so sweaty, I don’t get the strange tingles.
Maybe it’s a demon thing. Maybe my body was warning me against touching Raz. That had to be it.
I blow out a tense breath, trying not to humiliate myself as I do the world’s stupidest dance with William Washington and attempt to simultaneously memorize every second of it for my mental shrine.
It’s going perfectly. The gym fades away. The scent of sweat and floor polish diminishes. The giggles and grumbles of our classmates disappear. It’s just William and I skipping sideways, hand in hand. I see his eyes slip down to my bouncing chest, and his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, which only increases the butterflies in my stomach. He just checked me out!
Fuck yes!
I love Raz. This is amazing. Best day ever! But when a smile spreads unbidden across my lips, that’s when Raz rips William away.
The look on his face is pure loathing. “Laps! Now! We don’t try to stare down classmates’ shirts!”
“I…sir, I didn’t!” William stutters.
Raz just vibrates with fury and points toward the corner of the gym. “Go.” Then he turns to the room at large and yells, “Everyone down here. And if I see so much as a hint of inappropriate activity, you’ll join Mr. Washington!”
What. The. Fuck?
These demons promised they were going to help me win William over. So what the hell was that?
* * *
I stomp through the hallway,my hair up in a wet braid after showering off, squeezing my backpack with a death grip that could throttle a snake. Raz forced me to partner with Zolroth four times. Four! And he made William run laps the rest of class.
Evil.
Duh, demons are evil. Yes. I know. I’m kicking myself for momentarily thinking they were actually gonna help me out.
Of course, I couldn’t say anything to Raz or Zolroth without looking like I was nuts, but I’d stabbed the latter with my eyes repeatedly. He’d just grinned at my frustration, the fucker, leaning down and whispering, “I like it when you look sassy.”
I may or may not have pretended to stumble so I could stomp on his toes.
Stacy trots next to me, oblivious to the fact that I’m steaming like Mount Vesuvius. “I still can’t believe he picked you to demonstrate, lucky bitch!”
David walks up behind us and slides an arm around her. “Who’s a lucky bitch?”
“Katrina got to dance with our hot new gym teacher!”
“Not hot,” I mutter, but nobody listens to me.
“Dude! Did you hear the gossip about that? Supposedly, Mr. Harthorne and that counselor chick, Ms. Simmons, got caught doing it on her desk during school hours.” David gives us an exaggerated grossed out facial expression, which I’m pretty sure we all mimic, because Mr. Harthorne was a man in desperate need of a nostril hair trimmer.
But, that reminds me, Ms. Simmons was supposed to write me a letter of recommendation for several colleges I’d applied to. Harvard, Yale, Princeton—but only if I didn’t get into the other two—all the ‘right’ colleges, according to Mom and Dad. I don’t even know what I want to major in, but Lord forbid I fail to try.
