Demon at My Door

by Michelle A. Valentine

  I bite my bottom lip. “Um, no actually, but I want to be. Can you tell me how to find her?”

  “Oh, sure,” she says as she digs in her bag. “Here.” She hands me a yellow business card. “Here’s her address—you don’t even need an appointment.”

  “Thanks.” I turn the card over in my hand and read ‘Madam Zoë. Find the answers you seek.’

  Let’s hope so.

  Chapter Ten

  My cheery sister bursts though my bedroom door. “Come on. Get up. Get up.”

  I groan and throw a pillow over my face. I’d only been about ten minutes into my nap after our exhausting mall trip when she wakes me. “Go away. No more shopping.”

  “Screw shopping!” She opens my closet door. “We have to get you ready to see Rick.”

  “Alicia, it’s Saturday.” I groan again. She’s lost her mind. “We have all day tomorrow to put together my new look.”

  “You’re not getting it, Nat.” She throws some clothes on my bed. “He’s here. Right now.”

  My arm flies up quick as lightning, and my fingers snatch the pillow off my face while I gasp. “What?”

  “Yeah.” She points at the floor. “Downstairs. Right now. Didn’t you know he was coming?”

  My brain scrambles as I throw my legs over the side of the bed and jam my feet to the floor. “Oh my God.” For a second, I debate on making a run for it, but I’m not even sure if I’m ready for this. But this is Rick, the guy who saved me from Trevor. He deserves more than that.

  Quickly, Alicia grabs a brush from my dresser and goes to work smoothing my long, black strands. After she’s satisfied with her handy work, she goes into Picasso mode. She applies my make-up to cover the yellowish tone of the skin on my face. She smiles as she dabs on the last smidge of my lipstick. “Wow. I’m good. Maybe I don’t need Grad school. I could just do makeovers for a living.”

  I lean around her and peer into the mirror and my jaw drops. The girl looking back at me gives Taylor Gee a run for her money as the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in person. My body drifts toward the mirror as I turn my face from side to side in admiration of my sister’s awesome work.

  “Wow is right,” I whisper.

  “I know, huh?” she laughs. “Come on. You’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

  My palms grow clammy as I stand at the top of the staircase, hesitating. What if he doesn’t like the new look? Can my heart handle another rejection? More importantly, what am I going to do if he does like the new look? Am I ready to turn our new friendship into more? It’s not too late to keep it at just friends. Maybe that would be the best thing because I don’t know how much time I have left.

  I push those questions to the back of my brain and decide to let the chips fall where they may. After all, Rick is a change for the better. He’s nothing like Stew. He could help me transition into another person. A better person. Someone people will actually miss when I’m gone. I don’t need to love him to date him. I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again.

  My fingers wrap around the handrail as I take the first step as the new me. Rick’s in deep conversation with my mother. They sit casually on the couch and neither of them notices I’ve come into the room. Mom’s hazel eyes sparkle as she laughs at something he’s just said. She fidgets with the tight bun in her hair, like a giddy school girl. I can’t help but to notice how striking Rick’s profile is when he smiles at her in return.

  Suddenly, he turns those gray eyes on me, nearly stealing my breath. I feel my insides turn as I wait for his response to my make-over. A wide smile slowly stretches across his face. He stands to greet me as I step closer. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I say back. I don’t even realize I’m grinning like an idiot until I feel heat flood my cheeks. I avert my gaze from his.

  “Nat, honey, why didn’t you tell me you had such a handsome friend,” Mom coos, obviously ecstatic a boy is showing interest in me and lingers on the last word a little to long.

  I groan. “Mom…”

  Rick chuckles and hides his smile behind his hand, but I’m too embarrassed to yell at him right now. He soon settles his amusement and speaks. “Are you ready, Nat?”

  Curiosity engulfs my brain, and I instinctively tilt my head. “Ready? Ready, for what?”

  He lifts an eyebrow. “Our date, of course.”

  Date? What date? Did I overlook the part when I agreed to a date? “I—I didn’t—”

  “Sweetie, go,” Mom urges. “Have a good time.” She winks at me and leaves us alone in the living room. She’s obviously happy. I’ve changed my looks and now have a country-club worthy guy interested in me. The button down shirt and pressed khakis Rick’s wearing practically scream money, not to mention the shiny, black sports car parked out in the driveway.

  I turn to Rick as soon as I’m sure Mom’s out of earshot. “I don’t remember agreeing to a date with you today.”

  He steps toward me. “You didn’t have to.”

  My eyes narrow. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He takes my hand in his. “Only when it comes to what I want.” A grin spreads across his face. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I peer into his eyes and get lost in the turbulent seas that thrash around in them. Being so close to Rick makes my heart flutter. In the movies, girls always fall for the heroic guy who saves their lives. Is it possible that’s all I’m feeling—a false sensation of intensity because he protected me? I’m still not fully over Stew. How is it possible to feel this pull toward Rick?

  Ugh. There I go again.

  If this is going to work—the new me—I need to put Stewart Masterson out of my mind. A date with Rick might be a step in the right direction.

  Interlacing our fingers, I smile. “Okay.”

  He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and bites his lip, trying to keep his smile from growing wider. “Let’s go.”

  We walk hand and hand out to his car where he opens the passenger door for me. I slide in and allow him to shut me inside. He moves with grace around the front of the car and takes long strides to shorten the time to get to the driver’s seat.

  Once he’s comfortable, I turn to him. “So?”

  He laughs and his eyes scrunch from his wide grin. “So?” he mocks.

  I try again. “Where are we going?”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t you like surprises?”

  “Not really.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m more of a straightforward kind of girl.”

  He tilts his head down as he twists to look at me. “Not about everything,” he says as he backs down the driveway.

  The tires of his car squeal as they make contact with the road.

  Where the hell does he get off? I barely know him. Of course I’m going to keep things from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand.

  He shrugs and keeps his cool. “I’m just saying, you keep secrets, like Masterson for example.”

  My arms instinctively cross in front of my chest at the mention of his name and the betrayal of my feelings. “Let’s not talk about him.”

  This is not how I pictured this date going. I want to get over Stew, not keep dragging out his name. We ride in silence, and Rick stares straight ahead, like he doesn’t want to talk about Stewart, either. After a few minutes, I catch him staring at me, and I quickly look away.

  He sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. Not another word about him. Forgive me?”

  Not really, but I don’t want a long, drawn-out argument over why I don’t want to talk about Stew and my secrets.

  “Yeah, fine.” I need a subject change. Quick. “So where are we going?”

  His body relaxes, like he’s glad we’ve changed topics, too. “Can I surprise you just this once?”

  To lighten the mood because I feel a little bad for snapping at him, I joke, “Okay, just this once.” I grin before I crank his stereo up.

  He slips his sleek sports car into an open space at Easton Mall,
and I can’t help but to let out a little groan. This is the last place I want to see any more of.

  He chuckles as he takes in the look on my face. “Yeah, the mall isn’t really my scene either, but I thought we could catch a movie or something. Your mom told me about your all day shopping trip.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Alllllllll day.” He shakes his head and places his hand on his door handle. “Anything in particular you want to see?” I ask, while I open my door.

  “Wait!” He scrambles out of the car and runs to my door. “Let me get that for you.”

  Who says chivalry is dead? “Thanks.”

  His hand naturally meets mine, and we interlock fingers. The warm skin against mine sends waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. This is nice, someone liking me—wanting to be seen with me. In public.

  Rick opens the door into the building for me and then immediately relocks our hands. “You look beautiful, by the way. I like the new look.”

  “Thanks, but I feel kind of silly, actually. My sister played Barbie makeover with me today.”

  He smiles. “Well, I think you’d look great no matter what you wore. Hell, even in a moo-moo would probably turn me on.”

  I giggle. “A moo-moo?”

  Rick shrugs. “You know those old night gown looking dresses old ladies wear.”

  I shake my head. “I know what they are. I just can’t believe you do.”

  The smell of popcorn is overwhelming as we step inside the movie theater. He leads me to the counter. “What do you think? Comedy? Romance? Action? Horror?”

  I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. You choose.”

  He rubs his chin and studies the board. “Wow. Nothing like adding pressure on a first date.”

  “This isn’t our first date.”

  He smirks. “No?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He turns to face me—both of my hands in his while he gazes into my eyes. “Care to enlighten me, Miss Sugarman?”

  I roll my eyes. “Uh, the diner.”

  Light pours into his eyes, like he remembers that day. “You said that wasn’t a date.”

  Right. I did say that. “Okay, well, I changed my mind.”

  His deep laugh echoes through lobby of the theater, and he playfully wipes his brow. “Good to know I can relax a bit then. First dates are nerve racking.”

  Dancing around the smile I’m hiding only lasts a second or two. I laugh at him and swat playfully at his arm, but he whirls out of my reach. It feels good to have a friend. “Oh, shut up and pick a movie, already.”

  He finally chose ‘Demon Rising’ (why am I not surprised by that?), and I convince myself I can handle it. Normally I stray away from anything mentioning demons, but most demonic movies are so far from the truth I doubt it will scare me.

  We opt to share a tub of popcorn and a drink after a ten minute debate on what we should order. I hold the buttery tub of goodness with both hands and follow him into theater seven. I’m anxious to see where he chooses to sit. Everyone knows the back row is make-out central—not that I’d mind trying those electric lips out sometime—but I want to make sure he likes me for the right reasons before we go there. Not because he’s like Stew or anything. I just don’t want to recreate that drama anytime soon.

  “Is this, okay?” he asks as he stands about five rows down from the back.

  Yes. He is a nice guy. I knew I liked him for a reason. “It’s fine.”

  Relieved, I follow him to the middle of the row and take my seat next to him. I grab a handful of popcorn and stuff a couple pieces in my mouth. When he doesn’t immediately dig in with me, I stop and look at him. Steele gray eyes watch me intently, almost studying me.

  The popcorn scrapes my throat as I swallow. “What?”

  He looks away and runs his fingers through his long hair as he realizes I’ve caught him gawking at me.

  “Rick? If I have a booger or something, you can tell me.” In the dim light of the theater, the hearty laugh that comes from him causes me to frantically search in my purse for a mirror. “Seriously. Do I have something on me?”

  My face heats up. Oh my God, how embarrassing.

  He rests his hand on my arm. “Nat, calm down. I’m laughing because you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

  My eyes narrow. “I’m not nervous. I—” I what? I couldn’t finish that sentence because I am nervous. There’s so much pressure for me to work out my feelings about moving on. I can’t let something stupid make me feel silly and self-conscious the rest of the night.

  “Really, there’s no need to be nervous around me. I like you, Nat. And I’d still like you even if you had the biggest booger in the world.

  I bite my lip. This is not good because those three little words make my stomach do a flip. “You like me?”

  His lips turn upward and then he licks them before he shoots me a stunning smile. “Of course I like you. Would I be here if I didn’t?”

  My brain panics a bit. I don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s too soon to have this conversation with a guy, but I can’t resist the nagging question on my mind. “Well…um…why?”

  His brow rises up. “Why?” The word sounds like the answer would be obvious to me. But I’m still clueless as to why Rick has all this interest in me. It wasn’t like I was a prize in the eyes of the rest of guys on campus or anything.

  I nod. “Yeah, I mean, you’re practically the only guy who even talks to me.” The only human guy that is.

  He shakes his head like he’s disgusted. “That’s everyone else’s loss, isn’t it? Just means you have more time for me.”

  My eyes meet his. “But, why?”

  He sighs as he gently touches my cheek. “Because you’re special and I see that.”

  My heart flops around erratically in my chest. I swallow deeply as I gaze into his gray eyes. The words flowing from his lips sound sincere. He’s answered the doubting voice in my mind and it scares me to think that I might actually like him back.

  Should I stop questioning a good thing and just go with it?

  Before we can dive any further into the topic, I panic, not ready to deal with such a heavy issue. I look down and stuff my face with a handful of popcorn. “Want some?” I offer around a mouthful of kernels.

  A faint smile flirts across his face, like he knows I’m running away from this conversation—running away from him, but he doesn’t say a word. He reaches in and takes a handful. “Sure.”

  The movie flickers in the darkness. Twenty minutes into it, the dark-haired lady on the screen is about to go to hell. A demon, who was the woman’s boyfriend, smiles as the ground swallows her up. “Another soul collected,” the demon character says. I wonder if that’s what it’ll be like for me. Will I be alone and terrified? My eyes start to sting. I cover my eyes to block the rush of memories that flood my brain. Why did I agree to see this movie? This is the last thing Rick needs to see—the crazy side of me shining through. I don’t want him exposed to this part of me because I’m afraid it will rip away all the normalcy I feel when I’m around him.

  Shielding my eyes is no longer enough. My head drops to my knees and I shove my index fingers into my ears. A panic attack starts to hit me hard. There has to be a way out of this deal. I just need to find it before it’s too late.

  A smooth circling motion on my back soothes me—Rick’s hand. When I don’t look up after a couple of minutes, he takes my hand in his and guides me to an upright position before rushing me out of the theater.

  My body relaxes instantly once we’re in the cool hallway of the building and I drop my hands loosely at my sides and open my eyes.

  "Hey? You okay?” he asks, concern written all over his face.

  My lips pull down into a frown. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. Demons sort of freak me out.”

  He nods, making me feel like he doesn’t need any additional explanation, which is great because I’m definitely not ready to share that part of me yet. “Come on. Let’s get you
r mind off this.”

  Gladly, I follow Rick through the doors into the mall’s brightly lit atrium. This is the same food court Alicia and I were at earlier. The mall buzzes with other people trying to entertain themselves on a Saturday night.

  I wrap my arms around my body, now hyper-aware I’m not in my comfortable all black-invisible ensemble that usually helps me disappear from the rest of the world. Numbly, I walk beside Rick down the heart of the food court and take in the scenery. I’m instantly angered when my eyes land on Stew. He’s at the table claimed by a crowd of people I recognize from campus with Trevor Humphreys and Taylor Gee on either side of him.

  Assholes.

  Stew looks up from his sandwich and meets my narrowed stare. Nausea fills my belly. I thought he felt something for me, but after last night, I know different.

  I take Rick’s hand in an outward show of affection and hope Stew notices I’m moving on.

  Oh man, does he notice. Stew’s jaw drops, nearly smacking the table, and I feel a flutter of smug satisfaction.

  Take that Stewart!

  Rick looks down at me and smiles. I give his hand a little squeeze as we near the table. His skin against mine is warm and reassuring. The closer we get to the tables, the more I notice all the pointing in our direction. Trevor quickly turns his bruised face away from us, like he doesn’t want to chance another fight with Rick. Stew, on the other hand, has now recovered from shock and looks pissed. He crushes the soda can that’s in his hand while he locks eyes with me.

  What gives him the right to be mad at me?

  As we pass, Taylor, of all people, greets us. “Hey, Rick. Hey, Natalie.”

  Rick gazes down at me and gauges my reaction before he makes the decision it’s okay to stop at the table. After I shrug my shoulders, he answers her casually. “Hey, Taylor.”

  Her smile stretches from ear to ear, like she’s glad he knows her name. “What are you guys up to?” She glances down at our hands and wears a mischievous grin.

  Rick shrugs. “Nothing, really. Just watched a movie. Now, we’re trying to find something to do next.”