The devil

I go to leave, but he drapes one arm around my shoulder and the other around Mrs. Miller’s. “The three of us are going to have so much fun.”

Mrs. Miller giggles, but I remove his arm and step away. “This was a one-time thing for me.”

“Bullshit.” He grins. “You enjoyed it too much to stop now.”

He’s right. It’s addicting.

But trying a drug once doesn’t make you an addict.

“I have to go. I’m late for a student council meeting.”

I’m halfway down the empty hallway when I hear footsteps approaching behind me. I don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. President.”

“Fuck off, Damien.”

“I’m good, thanks. Already cleaned my pipes in the science room storage closet.”

“Yeah, and I bet you can’t wait to tell everyone about it and ruin her life when she least expects it. Can you?”

Quicker than I can blink, he slams me against a locker. “Is that what your problem is? You think I’m some kind of snitch?”

“No.” I bare my teeth. “I think you’re a manipulative asshole who uses people for sport.”

I’m not sure where this venom is coming from, all I know is it feels good to not hold back. I’m tired of keeping all my feelings—good and bad—hidden under my good boy exterior.

Those creepy blue eyes darken. “It’s not using people if they like it.”

He has a point. Kind of. “Enjoying something doesn’t make it right.”

“Aren’t you sick of playing by the rules all the time?”

I’m so sick I could keel over. But I know what I want…and I know what path I need to take to get there.

Hanging around Damien and screwing hot married teachers, isn’t it.

I need to keep my hands clean and my focus razor sharp.

“Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?”

Amusement lines his face. “Wow, you get one blow job from a teacher and you go all after-school special on me.”

“I’m being serious. Do you know what you want to do with your life?”

“I’m not sure. Investing, maybe?” He shrugs. “Haven’t really thought about it much.”

That doesn’t surprise me. We’re two totally different people. Like oil and water, we don’t mix.

“I’ve known what I wanted to be since I was five.”

A scoffing noise escapes him. “I know, man. Everyone around here knows you want to follow in your daddy’s footsteps and run for office.”  

“I’d want to run even if he wasn’t my dad.” I start walking and he follows. “It might sound stupid to some, but it feels right to me. It’s my calling.”

I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. “Then you should follow it.” We wander out to the parking lot and he lights a cigarette. “I don’t see how having some fun and screwing a few girls is a crime.”

“You know just as much as I do that people are inherently selfish. They’ll throw anyone under the bus for payback, personal gain, or because something better comes along. I can’t trust what I do now won’t come back to bite me later on.”

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. “For what it’s worth, I’d never let any chick we mess with do that to you.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “Bros over hoes. Let’s just call this one yours.”

I blink, not understanding. “But it’s your phone.”

“It hasn’t been mine for over a week.” When I raise a brow, he pulls out another phone. “This one’s mine.”

I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. None of this shit makes any sense. “Why would you be okay with people thinking I’m you?”  

He drops his cigarette and steps on it. “So you can be you without having to suffer the consequences. Every text you send to Mrs. Miller and whoever else is through my phone number. No one will be able to trace it back to you. Therefore, you don’t have to worry about your past coming back to haunt you.”

His statement only confuses me more. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m not really sure. Maybe I’m in the mood for a friend.”

“You don’t have friends.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, let’s say I went along with…whatever this is. How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.”

I hand him back his phone. “Thanks for the offer, it’s tempting, but I’m go

“Why?”

“Are you dense? You just said it yourself. I can’t trust you. Why in the world would I open myself up to that potential pitfall? There are plenty of girls my own age I can hook up with without all the bullshit yours bring.”

“You’re right.” He stops walking when we reach my car. “There are plenty of sweet, wholesome girls who would give their left tit to suck your right nut…but you and I both know it’s not the same. People like us need more than that. Their idea of a thrill is jerking their boyfriends off in a movie theater. Not the same shit we’re into.”

“You don’t know what kind of shit I’m into.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He shoves me against my car. “I saw you in that classroom, brother. You’re like a goddamn bomb ready to explode. And if you don’t relieve some of that pent-up tension inside you, sooner or later you’re going to detonate.” He punches the side of my car. “Boom.”

“No offense, but you’re fucking crazy. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but whatever it is, I guarantee you it’s wrong. I’m fine, Damien. Unlike you, I’m normal.” I open my car door. “Go find someone else who wants to ride shotgun to your twisted shit.”

White-hot pain sears through my body when he grabs my neck. “You have a bruise the size of Texas on your back, dude.”

He releases me, but I stay put, too afraid to move or speak.

“And before you accuse me of stalking you, I have gym eighth period. I’m guessing you have gym seventh because you were still in the locker room changing when I arrived.”

Finally, I find my voice. “I think you’re mistaken.”

He snorts. “About the line of bruises spa

In two fluid movements, my hand is wrapped around his throat. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I tighten my hold, watching his face change colors. “I fell down the stairs last week.”

It’s a lie and he knows it. But admitting your dad is still beating the shit out of you when you’re about to graduate high school isn’t something a man does.

Neither is disclosing the fact that your own brother picked up his bad habits. What started out as a regular argument last week ended with my brother taking a chair to my back.

Which of course led to my father taking off his belt while I was too weak to defend myself—because according to him, I must have provoked his favorite twin.

My family has problems…every family does. However, my family problems are my business, not his.

Despite his red face, Damien doesn’t struggle. Instead, his blue eyes blaze, challenging me. Like he wants to see how far I’ll go.

He coughs when I release him. “Like I said…boom.”

“I thought you said you had Mrs. Miller for eighth period?” I yell when he stalks off.

Between the phone and his fixation on my personal life, I can’t help but feel like he intentionally set me up to walk in there.

And if he’d go that far, there’s no telling what else he would do if I agreed to this strange friendship.

He turns, arms wide. “Thought you said you had a student council meeting today?” He flips me the bird when I stay silent, his expression growing sinister. “Looks like we’re both liars.”