Page 56 of Evil King

“What? I’m just being honest!” Colette said.

“Worse?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“Honey, he’s a reformed convict. He’s probably on parole. If they eventhinkhe had something to do with her death, he’ll be thrown back in jail.” Colette sighed. “Probably for the rest of his life.”

After a day of emotions, my stomach finally gave. I was glad I felt it coming because I was able to get to my bathroom, but I couldn’t make it to the toilet. I hunched over the sink instead. Sour bile came spewing out of me as it lurched into the sink, filling it with the regurgitated remains of my lunch.

“Cherri!” Avery called. “Are you okay?”

My chest started to cave in on itself, and I didn’t even feel myself start to cry, but tears were streaming down my face. I rushed back over to my computer and looked down at my friends. “What do I do?” I whined. “What do I do?”

“Cherri,” Alistair said calmly. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing youcando. We just have to wait and see what happens.”

“But…” My nose burned. “I don’t want to lose him again.”

The thought that Deon would disappear again sat worse in me than seeing him with another girl. I couldn’t imagine never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never hearing his voice, never touching him.

“Cherri,” Avery said. “Calm down, baby. You’re panicking.” The knot in my throat felt like it was getting bigger and bigger. “Shit. Colette, don’t let her off the phone,” Avery said, and then Avery’s line went dead.

“Cherri, listen to me, sweetheart. You’re having a panic attack. You have to calm down.”

“Calm down?” I repeated. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” Colette said. “It’s out of our hands now.

My vision started to blur, and my hands started to shake. It felt like any heat I had in me was rushing from my body, leaving me cold and unable to catch my breath. I clawed at my chest, but it didn’t help.

“Cherri.” I fell over on my bed, watching Colette stare back at me, wide-eyed. “Cherri! Just hang on! Avery’s coming!”

It was the last thing I heard before I passed out.

23

Deon

All I could do was sit with my head in my hands. My mom’s face kept flashing across my brain. I’d let her down. Annika was right. I should never have gone with Sicily to that classroom. I was on parole. What the fuck was I thinking? If I violated my parole and had to go back to prison, I would never forgive myself. Venom would probably kick my ass if I went back in after everything he did to make sure I got out.

How dumb could I be?

After sitting in the principal’s office alone for what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and Principal Hix came walking in, along with the school cop that had brought me down. “Deon Keane. You’re eighteen, which means we don’t need an adult to question you. Is it all right if we talk to you?” Principal Hix asked.

I looked at the cop side-eyed. Cops were not on the top of my list of desirable people with whom to spend my time, and I was nervous about anything I said with him in the room. “Does he have to be here?”

“Well,” Principal Hix said, “would you be cooperative if he wasn’t?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t really have anything to hide. I just don’t like pigs. You can understand?”

The cop snarled at me, but Principal Hix nodded toward the door, and with a huff, the police officer left the office, slamming the door behind him. Principal Hix settled down into the tall leather chair behind his desk and flipped open a folder on his desk. “I’m sure it goes without saying, Mr. Keane, that you have found yourself in quite the precarious position.”

I nodded. “I am painfully aware of that.”

“So, let’s just start at the beginning, and the more truthful you are, the easier this will all be.”

“Yeah, okay.” I took a deep breath before starting. There were two major conflicts with me telling me the whole truth. The first was that I didn’t want to snitch on Sicily, and the second was that I didn’t want to implicate Cherri. For that reason, at least seventy percent of my story had to be left out. “I walked into her room because I wanted her to tutor me,” I said.

Principal Hix flipped through a few papers in the file he’d opened and then looked pensively at the one he’d landed on. “It’s interesting you say that because you did marvelous on the history section of your entrance exam, and Mr. Mead, with whom you currently take world history, sings your praises as one of his best students.” He looked up. “I don’t believe you need tutoring.” He tilted his head to the side, his chocolate skin catching perfectly in the light hanging above his desk, making it feel a little too much like an interrogation for comfort. “Why don’t we start again?”

“I swear, that’s why I went in there,” I said. “I’m bad with facts and shit. If I’m doing good in Mead’s class, that’s news to me.”

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