A Deal With the Devil

by Angel Lawson

  I shiver at that thought, and it looks like Afton and Aubrey do the same.

  Sebastian smirks, though, seemingly unfazed. Reyn stands with his arms crossed, still as a statue. There’s no doubt everyone in this room has a secret. Including me.

  Emory makes eye contact with each of us, mine a beat longer than everyone else. I know my brother doesn’t want me here but Reyn talked him into it. It’s obvious that starting with the first ritual, everyone will be forced to reveal something about themselves they don’t want everyone to know.

  Me? I’ll be forced to tell my brother that I’m not the girl he thinks I am.

  10

  Reyn

  Look at all these people, squirming. Sitting with a group of my peers sharing my biggest sin? Please.

  Been there, done that.

  Counseling was mandatory part of my rehabilitation at Mountain View, a long string of weekly confessions where we all spilled our guts and made feeble promises to Never. Do. It. Again.

  But this is different, and I don’t just mean the black clothes, the kidnapping, and the candles lit for dramatic effect. I mean, I actually know these people—or knew them. I have to see them every day. They’re not a random group of boys sent away for badly committed crimes. It’s my best friend, the hot girl whose tits I want to motorboat, the guys I played Pee-Wee with, and fuck.

  Maybe worst of all, it’s Vandy.

  Am I really going to put her through listening to that shit?

  I can tell from the expressions of everyone else in the room that they’re not so into this either, but I have to hand it to whoever’s pulling these strings. It makes sense. A secret society without the ‘secret’ is just a Friday free-period, with more steps. Knowing everyone’s skeletons is the perfect way to start. Mutually assured destruction.

  “I’ll go first,” Emory says, handing Afton his phone. She flips it around and presses pause when he nods. His eyes flick to mine so briefly that most of the people here probably don’t catch it. To them, Emory probably looks assured, at best—indifferent, at worst. But that split-second look told me everything I needed to know.

  He’s pants-shittingly nervous.

  “I’m sure most of you know about what happened with that party two years ago. With the Adams girl and the Northridge kids? Or at least you’ve heard rumors.” He looks at Carlton and Ben, who nod. I’m assuming they were at the party. Emory’s hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to rub his palms over them, but knows he can’t. He’s got to be the big fearless leader.

  He’s got to set an example.

  “I participated in the blow job train on Skylar Adams.”

  I’m the only one who remains still. Everyone else’s heads snap back on their shoulders, and it’s like the oxygen gets sucked out of the room with their collective inhales.

  I chance a sidelong glance at Vandy.

  About five shades paler, face slack, she looks fucking horrified.

  Emory explains, “I was there with Campbell, but she went out back to smoke up with her friends. I heard what was going on in that bedroom and just had to see it myself. I figured those Northridge guys were bullshitting, but sure enough, there she was. On her knees, waiting for the next guy to come through the room. When she reached for my pants, I just…” Something in him cracks. He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, the tips of his ears suddenly growing red. “I let her do it. I mean, free blowjob, right? What did I know?”

  The room is so silent that when Vandy shifts, crossing her arms over her chest, it draws every eye to the sound.

  Emory goes on, “When shit hit the fan, there was no way I could fess up. You guys know how it was. Hamilton was on the war path, our parents were furious, the administration was fed up. I’d already had enough strikes to toss my ass out of Preston, and I’m pretty sure Campbell would have castrated me. If I had admitted it, the whole club would have been kicked out of school. The only thing keeping us in school was the fact we had not participated.” He exhales and shrugs, obviously finished.

  There’s a long pause, so I guess it’s someone else’s turn, but that was a lot to digest. I know instantly that Emory has set the tone here. That isn’t just some silly youthful indiscretion.

  “I got pregnant Freshman year.” Aubrey says, taking all the weird, awkward heat off Emory. Afton shifts the camera to her, but Aubrey’s eyes are locked on Emory’s as she speaks. “Twice, actually. These older guys—these two seniors—they used to bring me to hang out with them on the weekends. I used to feel so cool, you know? Because I was hooking up with these two popular jocks. Kings of the school. But they never wanted to use anything, and…” She looks away, shifting uncomfortably. “Well, anyway. I got rid of it. Both times.” Her voice is bitter and cold when she adds, “They never even offered to help or sit with me, or…anything. It was like I was taking out their trash.”

  Georgia mutters, “God, what pricks.”

  And with that, Aubrey has augmented the whole game. This stuff doesn’t have to be illegal. It just has to really mess up your life, were it to get out.

  “I’ll go next,” Elana says, and Afton shifts the camera to her. “On the Fourth of July, I went to this party down at Wisteria Dam. I had this epic American flag bikini and this sexy cover-up. I decided my mom’s diamond hoop earrings would look incredible with it—especially with my hair up, you know?” She looks to the other girls for confirmation and Elana nods. “Well, I knew she wouldn’t let me wear them. She can be a greedy bitch when it comes to her jewelry, so I borrowed them.” She rolls her eyes. “You know where this is going…I lost them in the lake. Joseph Miller was fucking around, dunking me and stuff—”

  “Trying to get your top to fall off,” Aubrey mutters. “Been there.”

  “Right?” Elana says. “Well, I hoped that my mom just wouldn’t notice—it’s not like she doesn’t have enough to wear. But nope, her eagle-eyes caught it immediately.” Her amused expression shifts, with jaw lifting and her arms crossing over her chest. “I thought for sure I was busted, which meant my trip to Costa Rica would totally be canceled, but I overheard my mother accusing our housekeeper of stealing the earrings. Marisol denied it, of course, and my mother had zero evidence, but it didn’t matter. She fired her and I never said a thing.”

  Note to self, I think, as I reassess the girl with her dark hair and darker eyes. She’s small—tiny, really—but holy shit, she’s cut-throat. I’m not tangling with her.

  There’s an awkward silence while we wait for the next victim, and I hope it’s Vandy, because one thing is becoming clear: The more awful bullshit that comes after yours, the better.

  I’m about to open my mouth when Sebastian shifts in his seat, leaning forward. “So, I have this temper,” he starts.

  Ben scoffs. “That’s not a secret.”

  Sebastian’s dark eyes rise to his, tightening. “How about you shut the fuck up and not interrupt me.”

  Ben glowers back. “How about you make—”

  Sebastian is already out of his seat, and I feel myself coil, back straightening at the wild look in his eyes. I’d know that shit anywhere. I saw it in my cellmate in juvie, in dozens of guys at Mountain Point, in the worn faces of my community service buddies.

  “Hey,” Emory steps in, probably sensing the same thing I am, which is that this Sebastian guy doesn’t just have a temper. This dude is a rag soaked in gasoline. All he needs is a spark.

  But just like that, it’s gone. Sebastian quirks a knife-edged smile at Ben before falling back into his chair. After a moment of charged silence, he continues, “My family went upstate for the summer, to the Briar Cliffs.” Everyone nods. The Briar Cliffs are a popular summering hole among the Preston elite. He sniffs, flinging his hair from his eyes. “I was out slumming it one night with one of my boys, and we got into some shit with a few townies. We took it out back, as you do.” He says this like it makes him some kind of upstanding gentleman. “Had a few blows. Caught him in the jaw once, really good. Probably knocked
out some teeth. But then…”

  He reaches up to scratch at his jaw, an oddly shy gesture as he diverts his gaze to the floor. “This girl tries to get between us, break us up, right? She can’t be more than like a hundred pounds, sopping wet. She came at me from the side, and I didn’t realize—” His gaze jumps around the room. “I thought it was one of his boys jumping in, because they’re all standing around, watching their buddy get creamed. I didn’t even hesitate, I just.” He buries his fist into a palm and doesn’t need to elaborate.

  He does, anyway. “I decked the shit out of her. She fell to the ground like a sack of meat, and for a second, we all just stood there, looking at her.” He barks a dark laugh. “I thought she was fucking dead, to be honest.”

  “Was she okay?” Afton instantly pales at having interrupted him. “Sorry.”

  Sebastian watches her, maybe sees the fear in her eyes, and narrows his own. “Look, what happened to her was an accident. I don’t hit girls. I fight people who can take me. I fight fair. I’m not like—” Whatever he’s about to say is abruptly bitten off. “She was bleeding, but she was breathing. You could tell I rattled her lights, because her eyes kept rolling around, but then she started screaming.” His throat bobs with a loud swallow, something dark passing over his face. “Like, I’m talking some serious blood-curdling shit. It was like she was possessed or something.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t stick around. With all that noise, someone was bound to call the police. So, we all just…left.”

  I hear Vandy’s sharp inhale, but am powerless to stop her screech. “You left her there?!”

  I step in front of her about half a second before Emory does, but that just seems to piss Sebastian off more.

  “Hey, I said I don’t hit girls!”

  “Who’s next,” Emory barks, looking around. This effectively ends Sebastian’s confession, and everyone looks grateful for it—most of all me. I fall back into my seat and wonder if I could even take him. Maybe. I wouldn’t want to find out, though.

  Again, the room falls into silence, no one sure what to say. Then Afton thrusts the phone at Aubrey, who turns it on the cheerleader.

  She flips her hair over her shoulder and says, “I’ve been having an affair with my dad’s best friend.” The confession hangs in the air, and her shoulders relax a little. “It started a year ago. We were at a family barbecue. I went with him to the garage to get some ice, and next thing I know, we’re fucking on the tool bench.” Her lips curve mischievously. “It was the best sex I’d ever had, and we’ve been hooking up ever since.”

  Elana’s eyes bug out, and I can’t help but wonder if she knows who Afton is talking about. Vandy hasn’t moved an inch since I stepped between her and Sebastian, but I can hear her beside me, shifting more uncomfortably at this confession than the others. She may be too pure for this—too innocent—but then again, she’s the one blackmailing me to be in this club in the first place. That’s obviously what her confession is going to be.

  “I’m really into it,” Afton continues, “but I know if my dad finds out, he’ll be devastated. Not just because I’m his daughter, but because it’s his friend. I mean, they go way back, they’re almost like brothers. It’s a huge betrayal, which of course makes it even sexier. But I can’t stop seeing him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I won’t.”

  Emory and I make eye contact, both of us having the same thought. Afton Cross has major daddy issues. No thanks.

  We continue around the circle. Tyson, the new kid from Northridge, runs his hands through his hair a couple of times and admits, “I’m an atheist.”

  No one replies until Ben says, “That’s not really a damning secret.”

  “Well, it is to my girlfriend, who’s a seriously devout catholic.” He reaches under his shirt and pulls out a chain with a sliver cross attached. “She only dates religious guys and her parents are super strict. I lied when I met her—like, created this fake persona for her and her family, thinking it was no big deal, and now I’m in love with her, so I have to keep up this whole phony life. If she found out, it’d be over. She’d dump my ass so quick.”

  I scoff, drawing a few stares, but I don’t need to elaborate. Emory just confessed to a possible sex crime. Sebastian might have hospitalized someone. Poor Aubrey got used and abused by two jocks. Afton is fucking some old dude and she doesn’t even realize how creepy and fucked up it is. Tyson is an atheist? It getting out might ruin a high school relationship?

  What kind of weak shit is that?

  “Well, that’s all I’ve got,” he finishes, sinking back into his chair.

  I’m not sure how anyone else accepts this, but Caroline goes next.

  “My mom forged documents and paid someone to take the SATs for me. ‘I’ got a 1540.” Caroline rolls her eyes, shrugging. “She got a few wrong so it wouldn’t look suspicious.”

  I narrow my eyes at Tyson. See? That’s something with consequences.

  Georgia is a cheerleader, like Afton, and from what I can tell, is a lot nicer than her pimply-faced brother, George. Emory wanted to make sure we had enough Juniors in the Devils to keep it going once we leave. She has wavy red hair and pretty green eyes. Her nails pick at the seam of her jeans when she says, “I told everyone that I went on a six-month foreign exchange program to France during Freshman year. Really, I was in a psychiatric facility for what they called a major depressive event.” She wrings her hands in her lap for a moment, eyes cast down. “But I was just…well, there was this video going around.”

  Carlton springs up, “Oh shit! That was you!”

  Georgia’s eyes go wide and hunted, and she turns them on Emory. “This stays here, right?”

  Emory looks about as confused as I feel. “Uh, yeah. That’s the point.”

  Her gaze darts around the circle, and I think I can see what she must be seeing: varying degrees of recognition. I have no idea what it’s all about. Everyone here has history, knows the in-jokes, understands the climate. But not me.

  She continues, “I broke up with this guy, and he…well, you all know by now.” She hangs her head. “He posted that video of us. I couldn’t believe that he’d do that, and it’s just always out there. It doesn’t matter that you can’t see my face, it’s still—” She works her jaw, eyes growing wet. “It’s such a violation. Most mornings, I couldn’t even get out of bed, but when I did, I just wanted it all to end.” She adds in a rough whisper, “I tried to hang myself.”

  Elana looks shocked and worried. “No one knew it was you.”

  Georgia just shakes her head. “But I did. I still see it sometimes, you know. All you guys share it around like it’s this… fun thing,” she spits. “But every time I see it, I just hate myself.”

  Emory must have seen this video, because he winces. Before anyone else can comment on it, Carlton cuts in.

  “I sell drugs.” The camera swings to him and he shrugs. “It’s good money. Like…” He breathes out a laugh. “Fucking unreal money, you have no idea. Weed, uppers, codeine, oxy, Xanax, even some coke every now and then. I move a lot of weight, but I don’t do it one-on-one anymore. I’ve got a few Northridge kids who sling for me down there, some more at Thistle Cove, a few here, a few there. It’s not something I want to do long term,” he insists, palm held up defensively. “I just want enough to coast after college without depending on my dad. Getting a scholarship is a given at this point. And once I get my degree, I’m done with him.”

  There’s only three of us left.

  Ben speaks up before Vandy and I can. “I went to camp over the summer, for band. We had these lame-ass dorms that were two to a room. My roommate was pretty cool, though. We hung out together for most of it, just screwing around, drinking, chasing tail. The last night of camp, we were packing up and getting wasted off shitty vodka, and we…” He pauses, but I already know what he’s going to say, and it’s a physical battle not to laugh aloud. He mutters, “We ended up fooling around.”

  Carlton obviously does not hav
e my restraint. “You’re always giving me grief for checking out guys’ asses, and you’re the one who’s gay?!”

  “I’m not gay.” Ben glowers at him, but his face is beet red. “But I’m probably bi.”

  Caroline rolls her eyes, while Afton outright laughs. “Oh my god, it’s the twenty-first century, who cares.”

  “My parents would care.” His face just gets redder and redder. “I’m not getting sent to some fucking deprogramming camp just because I like a little dick.”

  “Only the little ones?” Carlton looks like he might have a stroke with all the laughter he’s holding. “What a relief, mine is safe.”

  Ben flips him off. “No one wants your crusty dick, Wade.”

  It’s a much-needed moment of levity, all of that back-tightening tension sapped from the room, even if only temporarily. Because it’s just Vandy and me, now. I reluctantly turn to her, a question in my eyes.

  You or me?

  She meets my gaze. I’m not sure what she sees in mine, but hers is full of panic and No.

  Suit yourself.

  “Guess it’s me, then.” The camera turns to me and I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I can feel them all waiting just a touch more intensely than they had for the other confessions, but it’s no surprise, with all the gossip going around. The truth is probably a lot less interesting. Nevertheless, I keep my eyes trained to my linked fists as I begin, “Few years back, my buddy and I decided to steal a car.” Vandy is so still and silent beside me that it’s like a scream. I wonder if she’s surprised that this is my worst. “His kid sister busted us, though. So when the time came to do it, I talked her into—” I squint at my hands, because that doesn’t sound right. “No, I persuaded her to come with me, because…” I gesture to the room without looking anyone in the eye. “Well, if she’s an accomplice, then she won’t snitch on us. It was a really nice car, and it was dark, and we were on that old highway—the one down past the industrial park.”