Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “You’re cold,” he notes, almost clinically, but then he swings his jacket off his own shoulders and puts it over mine, leaning down to look me in the face. “If you’re right about this time loop thing, then we’ve fucked before. More than once.”

  “Several times, actually,” I reply, lashes fluttering as Barron leans in and closes the gap between us, stealing my breath away and drawing it into his own lungs as he kisses me.

  “You taste familiar,” he murmurs, licking my lower lip and then drawing back to his full height, rainbow Mohawk slicked back and colored orange by the roaring flames from the bonfire. “Like coming home.”

  “Barron,” I warn, but I’m not-so-secretly pleased by his words, my lips curving into a smile. “I don’t expect you to believe me about the time loop thing. But I’m sort of working under an honesty is the only policy thing right now.”

  “I don’t … not believe you,” he says, reaching up to rub at his chin and then shrugging those glorious shoulders of his. He could kick ass in most any sport, but then … he’s not a sportsman, is he? He’s a fucking artist. “But I’m not convinced, not yet. Maybe some more vodka would help?” Barron pours himself another generous cup as the song switches to some popular hip-hop tune that I just barely recognize. “If you plan on keeping a harem, you better go get your boys.” Barron nods his chin toward where Calix and Raz are standing, and I glance over my shoulder to see that they’re still surrounded.

  I mean, Crescent Prep kids at a Devil Springs High party? Not the norm around here.

  But … still.

  I only ever get one night, and I’m not sharing it with anyone.

  With a frown, I move over to the group and push my way through.

  “Who the hell are you?” a girl in a wolf mask snarls, her expression blending into her mask so well that she looks like a feral beast.

  “Who I am doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that these boys are mine.” I don’t smile to soften the blow. Instead, I just stare at her, bathed in firelight and shadows. She’s wearing a wolf’s mask, so surely, she can see that I’m marking my territory here?

  “Oooh, I like this version of you Karma,” Raz says as I glance back and find his red eyes glimmering like rubies. My hip aches where I had his name tattooed, the flesh now almost disturbingly bereft of ink. Maybe one day, I’ll get his name put there for good? “You heard the girl, get lost.”

  Most of the crowd dissipates with little more than barely-heard grumbles, but not the wolf girl. She squeezes her Solo cup until the plastic cracks, staring me down, like she thinks I owe her something.

  “Both of them?” she spits back, and then scoffs. “You Crescent Prep bitches think you own the fucking world. Just remember: this isn’t your territory.”

  Calix steps forward before I can respond, tilting the girl’s chin up so he can look down at her. She swallows, and licks her lips, nervous energy skittering across her skin like static electricity.

  “Karma is not a Crescent Prep bitch.”

  “I didn’t—” the girl starts, but Calix shushes her, his eyes impossible to see in the shadows. They’re just two black pits, making him look like a true devil, one with horns that cut and bleed.

  “You did. But you’re wrong. Karma is local. She’s poor. She’s an artist. And if she managed to snag a couple of filthy rich boys for herself, who are you to begrudge her that? Get fucking lost.” Calix releases her chin and then glances back at me, his face as impossible to read as it always is.

  Doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t swell with pride and affection.

  The girl scurries off, and I bite my lower lip.

  “You might be an artist, too. I just think you paint with words and cruelty.” I look up to find Calix watching me, Raz sipping his beer and studying the two of us with interest. What the hell did I do today to get them all on my side? Because I like it. “Still, you could’ve been nicer to her.”

  “You’re the only girl I care about being nice to,” Calix says, pausing for a moment and narrowing his eyes. “Although I don’t think I’ve ever managed to actually do that either.”

  “Marry me, Karma.”

  Calix’s words flit through my head like a butterfly searching for nectar, hungry, desperate, but weightless, too. He’ll say those words to me again, one day. I just … need to figure out how to get us all to tomorrow.

  “You will,” I promise him, choking back the rest of the words I want so desperately to say. You did. You did before, at the Crescent Hotel. But I’m not quite ready to mention the time loop to Raz or Calix. Barron is different; he thinks differently. “Let’s go find somewhere to be alone.”

  “Alone, huh?” Raz purrs, throwing his head back with a laugh and downing the rest of his beer. He chucks the bottle at an old minivan, the brown glass shattering to pieces and raining down like sharp rain. “I like the sound of that.”

  I turn and lead the way, noticing that Barron’s already snagged one of the full vodka bottles and found us a place to sit in the back of an old school bus. He’s waiting for us with the emergency exit open wide, legs dangling over the edge. The bus has no tires, and it’s sitting on top of several other cars, but there’s a stack of wooden boxes creating a makeshift staircase.

  Barron holds out his hand and helps me up, leaving Raz and Calix to climb up on their own.

  “Oh, wow,” I murmur, moving down the aisle and touching the cracked headrests of the few remaining seats. Most of them were stripped out long ago, but there are plenty of places to sit. There are blankets on the ground, too, and I’m surprised to see that they look relatively new.

  “I just gave a kid a thousand bucks to leave his blankets and beer and fuck off,” Barron says, explaining the presence of a small blue cooler and the makeshift bed before I even get a chance to ask. The roof of the bus has been rolled back, the metal crumpled up like a fucking banana peel. Whatever accident the bus must’ve been in for that to happen, I don’t want to know.

  “Sweet digs,” Raz says, slurring a bit as he grabs the bottle of vodka from the floor and tips it to his lips. He pushes his red mask up into his blond hair and looks around with red-rimmed eyes, already on his way to being drunk. Fuck, you’re such a sweetie underneath all of that bite, I think, watching him drape his insouciant ass into one of the seats like he’s the king of this gritty junkyard.

  Calix looks like a visiting dignitary, glancing around like he doesn’t quite know what to make of the place.

  “I like that we can see the stars, even from in here,” I say, tilting my head back to look up at the night sky. It’s as if the world is dressed in ebony velvet, dotted with diamonds that sparkle and wink in the silver light from the crescent moon. It’s amazing, how beautiful the sky is, how ugly the junkyard is, and how fucking happy I am in this moment.

  I take a seat, sweeping my skirts aside and finishing my beer. After a brief moment of hesitation, I throw it toward the front windshield, hitting the glass and shattering both items in the process.

  “Nice one,” Raz hisses, leaning over the back of the seat, his eyes bright with interest. “You’re really shaking things up today, aren’t you, Karma Sartain?”

  “I’m sure as hell trying,” I say, swigging the vodka and then choking on the sharp, awful taste of it. This isn’t that pricey shit the boys were passing around at the Crescent Prep party. No, this is cheap shit, but it does the job. “And it feels like you three are as well, which I appreciate.”

  “Like you said,” Calix begins, pausing in front of me and putting his hands on the seat backs on either side of me. “It’s Devils’ Day, after all. It’s not supposed to be normal, that’s the point. We revel and we break things and we fuck people we don’t like.”

  “Do we?” I ask, tilting my head at him. He doesn’t know what I know, that I’m the only person he’s had sex with. I decide not to bring it up just now. “Is that why you got tested twice after you slept with me last year? Because you fucked someone you didn’t like?”

 
; Barron throws his head back in dark laughter as Raz raises both brows in surprise, like this is new information to him. Calix, on the other hand, tightens his face up like I’ve just seriously pissed him off.

  “How do you know about that?” he asks, but I just smile enigmatically, leaning back in the old bus seat, like it’s my throne, like I own the Knight Crew and everyone in it. It feels like I do, wearing that black devil’s mask that Calix has worn every single night that I’ve seen him. It’s as if I’m now the Knight whose name brands this crew of diabolical assholes.

  “Does it matter? Why did you get tested twice? You knew I was a virgin.”

  “Because my parents found out about you and made me do it,” Calix grinds out, gritting his teeth and glancing away, toward the shattered windshield. He’s the hardest nut to crack, that’s for fucking sure. Barron just needs me to know about the sketchbook, and we’re thick as thieves. A little honesty goes a long way with Raz. But Calix … it’s like his heart is encased in ice, and I have to melt it before I can get what I need from him.

  “How did your parents find out?” I ask, taking another drink of the vodka and handing it over to him. He takes it from me, frowning, and sits down in the seat opposite me. Raz is on my right side, and Barron just leans casually against the wall on my left, likely standing where a seat once stood.

  “Pearl.” Just that one word, spit from Calix’s lips like poison. He glances away sharply, shrugging out of his coat, and leaving me in a broken-down, old school bus with not one shirtless bully, but three. Three magnificently beautiful assholes to savor. Like jewels dug up from the earth, just waiting to have their rough edges polished, smoothed, the dirt cleaned away so they can shine.

  The devil inside of me purrs with pleasure.

  “Don’t you feel sorry for her though?” I ask, knowing that I’m steering this conversation with knowledge that I shouldn’t rightfully have. “About the baby and everything?”

  Calix glances my way with a sharp look, like his eyes are knives, blades glinting.

  “I hate what my brother’s done, what my parents have done. But I also hate Pearl for getting me sent here.” Calix pauses for a moment, like he’s considering his statement. He reaches up to ruffle his ebon-dark hair. “Or I did.” He looks back over at me. “Maybe not so much anymore.”

  “Your parents think I’m STD-ridden or something?” I ask, and Raz snorts.

  “You think my dad is bad? Or Barron’s folks? Calix’s parents are the monsters behind-the-scenes who pull all the strings. My dad takes hush money from them to keep their dirty secrets hidden. Of course they think you’re disease-ridden. You’re the opposite of everything they stand for.”

  “Which is why I’m in love with you,” Calix says, and it flows off that whiplash tongue of his like it’s nothing. He taps his fingers on the back of the seat nearest him as I just sit there, dumbfounded and mind blown. Maybe I shouldn’t be, considering he was willing to admit that under duress.

  No matter what happens with this time loop, there’s one thing I know for sure: the things we’ve been through, that I’ve done, they weren’t for naught. The feelings, the revelations, the progress we’ve all made … it’s still here.

  “Good to know,” I choke out as Barron bends down and digs a cherry cola out of the cooler, passing it over to me. I take it, studying him as he stays crouched beside me. He seems to enjoy sitting like that, low to the ground and observant. As I watch him, he pulls out a red lollipop with the image of a black window etched into it, likely some sort of Halloween party favor. Still, it’s eerie, watching him slip that between his full lips. “You love me, and you hate your parents.”

  “To sum it up succinctly,” Calix replies, exhaling sharply and then leaning forward. He pushes both hands up his face, loosing his mask. He pulls it off and tosses it aside, like he, too, has had enough of wearing a fucking mask. He said as much at the hotel, didn’t he? “My parents are monsters. I suppose Pearl didn’t have many targets she could actually shoot and hit.”

  I shiver.

  Some part of yesterday must’ve stuck with Calix, and hearing him use a metaphor like that just brings it all rushing back.

  “I mean, she wasn’t wrong,” Barron adds, and both Raz and Calix give him death glares that make the hateful looks they’ve thrown at me over the years seem … watered down. “It’s not like you only made out with each other once. We had to beat the shit out of that kid freshman year to keep your first Devils’ Day party escapades under the rug.”

  “Why don’t you just spill all our secrets?” Raz asks, leaning back in his seat, one leg thrown over the side nearest me, his leg encased in red leather, his foot tucked into a black boot. I reach out and play with a small bone-charm hanging from the laces.

  “Actually, that’s a brilliant idea: spill everything for me.” I pop the top on the soda, taking a sip before Barron passes the vodka back to me. Upon closer inspection, I see that there are dried flowers floating in this one, too. See what I mean? There are themes that run between these days. Doesn’t matter if it’s expensive vodka in the woods or cheap vodka in a junkyard. This bottle is spiked with a bit of its own magic. “I told Barron earlier that I’ve been living in a time loop. I’ve lived twenty-five Devils’ Days in a row.”

  “Oh yeah?” Raz asks, his blond hair sparkling with silver glitter. “And how did you spend those twenty-five days?”

  “Courting the three of you mostly,” I say, taking my phone out—they don’t have a gatekeeper here like we do at Crescent Prep—and starting up one of my personal playlists. I set the phone aside and make myself comfortable, taking the joint that Raz lights and passes over the seat to me. “I’ve fucked Barron in Thorncrown Chapel, Calix in the Crescent Hotel, and Raz at my Aunt Donna’s cottage.”

  “A time loop, huh?” Calix asks, reaching out for the vodka. I hand it to him, moonlight staining our pale fingers as they tangle together for a brief moment. “That’s an interesting Devils’ Day tale. I saw a ghost once. It wasn’t on Devils’ Day, but Halloween. Maybe some days are just tainted with sorcery?” Calix tips the bottle to his lips as Barron cracks the candy in his mouth.

  Hope spikes in my blood, and I suck in a sharp breath, pulling in two lungfuls of weed smoke and magic. He remembers. Maybe not in the same way that I do, but he does.

  “So you two made out in freshman year? And the year before? Am I getting this right?” I glance over at Raz as Calix’s face tightens up in irritation.

  “Yeah, so? I’ll do anything to please a pretty girl,” Raz brags, lighting up a cigarette. When the joint makes its way back to him, he smokes it with one hand, taking a drag on his cig with the other. It’s the very picture of debauchery and excess.

  “Is that so?” I ask, glancing over at Barron. He adjusts himself, so that he’s sitting on the floor, tossing his sketchbook onto his thighs and flipping the cover open. “Because there may or may not be a pretty girl sitting here now.”

  Raz taps the ash off the end of the joint and passes it my way, a thoughtful expression on his face. He was so pissed earlier when I brought this up, so terrified I’d think he was gay or bi or something. I don’t give a fuck how he labels himself, just so long as I’m the one he wants.

  “A pretty girl who wants to be pleased? Say it, beg me for it, and maybe I’ll do it?” Raz suggests, smoking his cigarette as Calix leans back in his own seat, steepling his fingers on his bare chest and crossing his legs at the ankle.

  “First, you hit my car. Then, you tell me you love me. Now, you want me to kiss Raz for you?” he asks, looking up at the stars. I follow his gaze and notice a shooting star streaking across the heavens. Scrambling to my feet, I make a wish with my whole heart. Please end my torment, but only if everyone around me is safe. Just let them be safe. That’s all I want. Even if the night ends in a clusterfuck, that’s all that matters.

  “That’s what I want,” I say, dropping my gaze back to his face. “I want to see you pushed out of your comfort zone.”r />
  “You don’t think having the girl I’m interested in tell me she’s in love with two other guys is out of my comfort zone?” Calix purrs back at me, a challenge in his gaze. The sound of Barron’s pencil moving across the page comforts me, making me smile.

  “I don’t know. You tell me? All I can say is, tomorrow is never guaranteed. I love the three of you right now, in this moment, so that’s what I want. I want to spend time with you. I want you to kiss Raz for me.” I play with the metal tab on my soda can, watching, waiting, like a queen with an audience.

  It feels good, to have the tables turned like this.

  I spent day one looking up at Calix on my car-turned-his-throne. He wore a crown. Raz wore a sneer. Barron was an enigma.

  Today, everything is different. But in a good way. In a way that feels right, like it was always meant to be.

  “Say we play along with this,” Calix muses as Raz sits up, chucking his cigarette butt to the floor. It’s already strewn with leaves and pine needles anyway. I mean, we are in a junkyard. “What happens tomorrow? What will you tell people?”

  “What happens tomorrow depends on you,” I tell him, looking him straight in the face. “What I want, is for the three of you to date me. At least until graduation. Maybe longer than that.”

  “That’s not asking a lot at all,” Barron murmurs, but when I glance his way, he’s smiling, his attention focused on his sketchbook. “I don’t see why that should shock either of you. We bullied the fuck out of her for three years. Don’t you think you owe her at least three years of groveling?”

  “I might owe her more than that,” Calix says, his face drawn and tired, sad. Just like it was at the gas station. He glances toward me, exhaling sharply, and then sits up straight, chin raised, ever the dark faerie princeling. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me for last year?”

  “I already have,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, reaching up to push the black leather devil’s mask away from my face. “You can’t hold onto hate forever, or it seeps into your heart. It’s the worst sort of venom. I’m done with that. You made a mistake, but if you’re truly sorry, then it’s not enough to keep us apart.”