Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2

by Kris Johnston

  “There's beauty in such darkness, Earth Angel,” he said softly, and then continued walking with Odie.

  Earth Angel?

  That was the song Jimmy had sung to me the day Odie found out I had a ghost for a boyfriend. My breath came in gasps and my knees began to quake. I backed away from the easel, bumping into the counter behind me, and took off my apron. I glanced around. The class was busy chatting and working on projects, and Mr. Harken was absorbed in paperwork on his desk. I grabbed a stool and sat down heavily on it before lowering my head to my knees.

  Breathe, I told myself.

  Why would Parker have called me that? Earth angel? Of all the things he could've said, or could have called me, it was the last thing I'd ever expected to hear from him. What was he playing at? Somehow he knew that song was special to me, he must have. He knew it, and was using it to mess with my head.

  I couldn't let him get to me. I just couldn't. If I was going to survive this year, I'd have to figure out some way to outwit Parker Evans, and keep my sanity in the process.

  ***

  “And then,” Odie said loudly as we sat at our usual cafeteria table, “I told him, ‘if you ever come near her, if you ever try to hurt her, I will personally cut your balls off and feed them to my mom’s cat!’” She looked at us triumphantly.

  It was lunch time. The Pastels were listening intently to Odie’s story of what she'd said to Parker when she showed him the supply closet in art. I sat quietly, picking at the lunch Bonnie had thoughtfully packed for me. I wanted to disappear and at the same time, I wanted to hunt him down and give him a roundhouse to the face.

  “How did he react?” Devon asked.

  “Yeah!’ Erica said, nodding, “What’d he say?”

  Odie shrugged. “It was weird. He said, ‘If I ever hurt Roz, I'd cut them off and hand them to you, myself.’”

  The Pastels glanced at one another.

  “I told you he was changed,” Belle said. “An aura doesn't lie.”

  “How long was he on life support before they took him off?” Erica asked.

  “Over a month,” Devon replied.

  “Something clearly happened to him during that time,” Jessica said. “He must've been brain dead at some point.”

  “And then what?” asked Devon, “He comes back with an entirely different soul?” She shook her head. “Something doesn't add up here. A soul is a soul. They don't change, not unless they've experienced something….”

  “Something unnatural,” Belle said. “There's magic at work here, ladies. And since none of us can seem to tap into it, to see what exactly is going on, it must be of the Dark variety.”

  “Of course it is,” Devon agreed, “Anything to do with him isn't going to involve the Light.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Erica murmured.

  We all turned our heads to see Parker walk into the cafeteria, followed by a gorgeous girl with long, white-blonde hair and dark eyes. He paused, looking around the area as if he'd never been inside this space before, then noticed the food line and walked toward it.

  The blonde stayed close behind him.

  “Oh great!” Odie exclaimed. “When did she come back?”

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  “That’s Elizabeth Tate,” Cindy said. “She moved away last year, right before you got here, Roz.”

  “Yeah, and I wish she had stayed away,” Odie mumbled.

  I looked at Odie and raised my eyebrows.

  “She's such a floozy!” Odie explained. “Look at her! She throws herself at every guy on the planet!”

  I turned to look at the girl and saw what Odie was talking about. She kept touching Parker here and there, running her hand along his arm or shoulder, touching his hair, smiling up at him and flipping her curls.

  “She might as well be dry humping his leg,” Odie muttered. “Wait until she sees Will. Oh gawd. She's going to sink her claws into him for sure!”

  “Relax,” I said reassuringly, “Will is crazy about you. He won't let some tramp come between what you two have.”

  “Hey, where is your guy?” Cindy asked Odie.

  Odie pointed across the cafeteria. “Sitting with his buddies. Before school started, we decided lunch time would be friend time, so we didn't alienate our friendships.”

  Devon sat back and stared at my best friend.

  “That's pretty mature of you both,” she said.

  Odie shrugged. “It made sense to us at the time. But now, if that hoe-bag is back in town, I might have to rethink things.”

  I turned to look once more at Elizabeth Tate. She held onto Parker’s arm and led him to an empty spot at a table, and when he sat down on the bench she straddled it beside him and pressed her chest into his shoulder.

  I never acknowledged the twinge of repulsion in my stomach that signaled the small stirrings of jealousy. Indeed. It never happened.

  I swear.

  ***

  I had two more classes with Parker. He showed up in both History and Language Arts with his newly changed schedule in hand, looking around the class until his eyes landed on me. It was unnerving, but what made me more anxious was the fact that Odie was not in my Language Arts class.

  It was just me, without any sort of backup.

  Of course, I had chosen a seat in the back which was, of course, next to the only other available desk in the whole class. Which meant OF COURSE Parker was told to have that seat.

  I was determined to ignore him.

  He doesn't exist. He doesn't exist.

  The class began at a snail’s pace with introductions and an overview of our curriculum. I was excited to learn there would be some amazing books for our required reading from authors like Shakespeare, Dickens, and Plath.

  But halfway through class, my heart plummeted when Mrs. Elaine announced we were to find a partner to interview in class and write a quick essay on how they spent their summer. After the interview was done, we would switch and become the one interviewed.

  Students turned to one another and began pairing off, finding their partnerships with ease. I sat stupidly, willing someone, anyone who wasn't Parker Evans, to ask me to be their partner for the exercise.

  Please no, I prayed fervently, please God, don't pair me with him. Please, no.

  “Rosalind?” Mrs. Elaine called from the front of the class. “Why don't you pair up with Parker?”

  I stared at her like a deer in headlights. By the time I found my voice, Parker had pushed his desk flush against my own and called out a thank you to our teacher.

  “Do you want to go first, or should I?” He asked politely.

  I stared at the notebook before me, wondering how in the world I was going to get through this.

  Pretend like he doesn't matter, like he's nothing, like he's just another student.

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “Sure,” I replied shakily.

  “Sure, what?” He asked, seeking clarification. “You want to be interviewed first?”

  I refused to look at him, so I nodded my answer.

  “Okay,” he said softly. He got his notebook and pencil ready, and I waited for his first questions.

  And I waited.

  And waited.

  Just when I thought he'd forgotten we had an assignment to do, he spoke.

  “How did you spend your summer?” He asked quietly.

  I swallowed hard, raising my eyes to his.

  “I spent my summer trying not to kill myself,” I replied, my voice hard.

  His pencil, which had been writing down my answer, came to a quiet stop. His aqua eyes lifted, and his face was filled with pain.

  I kept my eyes on his, daring him to have some sort of reply. His gaze began to roam about my face, drinking in my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, my hair.

  “I know you think I'm responsible for your pain,” he said gently, “I'm so sorry you had to endure that.”

  “You know nothing of my pain,” I said bitterly. “Absolutely nothing.”

  �
��Maybe not,” he agreed quietly, “But I know Parker Evans was the cause of it. And I can assure you, that's not who I am.”

  I glared at him as his soft, kind words tried to penetrate my mind and my heart. I wouldn't let them. He had gotten away with so much hurt, and here he was, sitting with me, acting like he cared, acting like he knew me.

  “Let's make one thing perfectly clear,” I said quietly, firmly, “I don't believe your amnesia tale, so don't use it on me. You might have everyone else around here believing you don't know who you are, but trust me, I know exactly who and what you are. I haven't forgotten what you're capable of, and I never will.”

  With my words, the light in his eyes died and he nodded somberly in understanding.

  “What can I do to convince you I'm not who you think I am?” He asked.

  I tilted my head. “Nothing.”

  He cleared his throat and looked down to his paper.

  “My apologies,” he said gruffly.

  I looked at him, dumbfounded. “Your apologies are useless,” I said. “Save your breath.”

  Chapter 7

  ~Roz~

  It wasn't until I walked safely through my front door that I was able to let out an exhale of relief.

  I did it. I survived Day One of Parker’s return.

  Only one day… and the stress of it had exhausted me. How many more days to go before I could let my guard down?

  Never.

  The sounds of the kids from somewhere in the house signaled they were already home, and I briefly allowed their happy voices to act as a balm over my bruised heart. Vincent yelled out rather loudly, “Holy moly! Yes!” and Amelia giggled and shouted a raucous, “Yahoo!” I stood silently in the entryway for several minutes, taking in the sounds of childhood and joy. I wondered what could be happening to make them so boisterous and excited, and a part of me ached to participate in their glee.

  Almost as if she heard my thoughts, Bonnie called from the kitchen. “Come on, Roz! I saw you walking up through the window, so get your booty in here, Gorgeous!”

  I cracked a smile. Faithful Bonnie, always on the lookout and always wanting my presence for the fun stuff.

  I dropped my backpack by the closet door in the entrance, and made my way to the kitchen. There, I beheld the most amazing sight ever.

  Three large tubs of chocolate, vanilla, and coffee flavored ice cream sat in the center of the dining room table. Surrounding it were bowls, spoons, and every single ice cream topping imaginable. Small, glass bowls held sprinkles of all colors, cherries, decadent hot fudge, gooey butterscotch, whipped cream, chopped nuts, sliced bananas, chocolate chips, some type of strawberry glaze, mini marshmallows, blueberries, and hordes of other incredible goodies.

  My mouth hung open as I stood there.

  Bonnie grinned.

  “We have officially begun a new tradition! Make-your-own-sundaes to celebrate the first day of school!”

  Amelia added more sprinkles to her ice cream and nodded. Her eyes were shining and she looked happier than I'd ever seen her.

  I glanced at Vincent. He was shoveling spoon after spoon of chocolate ice cream into his mouth and trying to talk around it.

  “Vish if uh gate ay!”

  I shook my head at him, chuckling. “Please swallow that before you try talking, I can't understand you.”

  He slowed down and added more banana slices and hot fudge to his bowl, trying to swallow his food the whole time.

  “I said, this is a great day!”

  “Well it certainly is now,” I agreed and took a seat at the table.

  It didn't matter how craptastic of a day I'd had, I wasn’t stupid enough to pass up ice cream. And hello! My favorite, coffee flavor! I began to fill a bowl with that particular ice cream and looked at him again.

  “So you and middle school is a match, I take it?”

  He nodded with big eyes. “I have my own locker. And each class is a different period, with a different teacher. I feel so high school.”

  I fought the laugh that threatened to bubble out of me, and nodded. “It's a cool world, isn't it?”

  “For real!” He said.

  I drizzled a stream of hot fudge over my ice cream, then topped it with nuts, whipped cream, and a beautiful, shiny red cherry. I was pretty sure perfection such as this had never before existed. My mouth was watering over the creation.

  “Thank you for this, Bonnie,” I said gratefully.

  She smiled and shrugged. “Each milestone you guys pass should be celebrated. What better way than with a sundae?”

  “I couldn't agree more!” I exclaimed.

  “Hey Roz,” Amelia said, “Did you have an excellent day? Because I had an excellent day!”

  I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, but didn't answer the question.

  “I'm so glad you had an excellent day, Amelia!” She smiled and watched as I took my first bite of the ice cream.

  “You know that coffee ice cream is made with real coffee?” She asked seriously. “Bonnie wouldn't let us have it because she said it'll make us even more hyper than we already are. She bought it specially for you. See? She has all our favorites here.”

  I giggled and nodded as I swallowed my bite. I had, indeed, noticed Bonnie had thoughtfully provided us with my favorite, as well as Amelia’s favorite (vanilla), and Vincent’s favorite (chocolate).

  “That's true,” I said to my foster sister, “coffee has caffeine in it, so yeah. Probably not a great idea to let you guys have any. Best to stick with your own favorite flavor.”

  “Won't it make you hyper, too?”

  I shrugged. “No, it won't, because I'm already a coffee drinker. I'm used to it.”

  “Today, my science teacher said anything with caffeine in it could give you a heart attack!” Vincent exclaimed suddenly.

  Bonnie smothered her laugh and began to put away the tubs of ice cream that had begun to melt.

  “That might be true Vincent, caffeine is a stimulant and it accelerates the heart rate.”

  “Yes, that's what he said!” Vincent replied.

  Vincent looked at me pointedly. I shrugged and took another bite.

  “Oh my god Roz, are you trying to kill yourself?” He asked.

  I almost choked on the cold, creamy goodness and glared at him. The way my summer had gone, he’d come closer to the truth than he could have known. But of course I'd never admit that.

  “Vincent,” Bonnie admonished, “Eating coffee ice cream, or drinking a cup of coffee once in awhile does not mean a person is suicidal!”

  “But my teacher said-”

  “That's enough of that,” she said sternly. “We like to remember to have healthy food and drink habits around here, but we will not assume someone is trying to kill themselves simply because they enjoy coffee. Honestly. I have coffee everyday. Do you think I’m trying to kill myself?”

  Vincent looked at his bowl sheepishly and shook his head.

  “Alright then,” she admonished, “No more talk of that.”

  “Sorry Roz,” he said. “It's just that Mr. Edwards talked about caffeine today in class-”

  “Stop,” I said softly, “It's cool. No need to explain.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek and glanced at me awkwardly, obviously feeling badly about it. I knew the whole thing wasn't that big of a deal, but it had struck a nerve in me.

  It was true. The entire summer, I had been so devastated by losing Jimmy that I'd lost myself to the darkness. I'd been so consumed by my sorrow that I hadn't cared if I lived or died. I had gone down two dress sizes from lack of eating, and spent too many sleepless nights and sleep-filled days to know who I was anymore. Or, care.

  But now, things had changed. I had been pleased for the distraction from a new year of school, only for Parker to come in and destroy that so-close-to-happy feeling.

  It was in that moment I made a bold decision. I would take better care of myself and my health. I would live my life, regardless of Parker’s presence in it. I would hol
d on to any sort of hope I could collect and cling to.

  I was suddenly determined to keep myself healthy, and to go back to eating better than I had the past couple of months. Because now, I had a purpose. I needed to be strong, both in body and mind. Because I knew deep down, it was going to take a lot of physical and emotional strength to make Parker Evans pay for all of his many, many sins. And pay, he would.

  ***

  The rest of the week continued to pass by me in a flurry of new school year activities, such as forms needing signed by guardians, schedules needing changed (which the administration office was quick to shoot me down over), and new friendships developing all over the junior hall.

  One friendship, in particular, had me and the girls curious- Parker Evans and Elizabeth Tate.

  The Pastels, Odie and myself kept close tabs on them, curious as to his motives for allowing her company. We watched everyday in the lunchroom as she'd disgustingly throw herself at him. We watched them together in the halls as she'd cling to his arm and bat her heavily fringed eyelashes at him.

  He was careful to keep his gaze from finding mine, but there were several instances when I could feel his aqua eyes upon me, and I'd have to repress a shudder.

  Strength, I would remind myself. Let him think you don't care, so his guard will be down when you finally get your revenge.

  The Pastels continued to discuss the anomaly of his aura. On Wednesday, I had asked if they could see Elizabeth Tate’s aura as well, in hopes of finding out if she had a decent soul or was something darker. They explained they could only see the soul manifestation of magical folk. Which, in a roundabout way, had answered another question I'd had. Did Elizabeth Tate possess powers, like them? Like Parker? Apparently not.

  For that, I was thankful, because it meant that when the time came, I'd be able to fight Parker with one less set of powers attacking me. It was already going to be hard enough going toe-to-toe with a warlock, I didn't need any other sort of magical foe adding to it.

  He was always a gentleman in the classes we had together. He'd hold the classroom door open for me, or he'd pass me a pencil if I happened to break mine. I wouldn't say a word in these moments when he was clearly trying to make amends. I'd simply accept the pencil or walk through the door, silently acknowledging his presence.