Demon Girl (Keeley Thomson Book One)

by P. S. Power

  As a rule she wasn't clumsy, but if she was ever going to take a dive head first into anyone, it would probably be Darla, wouldn't it? It was like the whole world wanted to organize with her at its center. Drawing things toward her. It was a subtle thing, but Keeley felt the pull too. She tried to keep a smile on her face and seem lively, even as she felt a growing suspicion that the blond girl just wasn't what she seemed. After all, Keeley had powers of her own, in a way. Maybe Darla had something like that too? Everything just fell into place around her so easily.

  “Great, get with the others on that while I change really quick? Cooking in my cheerleader's uniform seems a little too much like some forty year old pervert's fantasy to be allowed I think. Especially if he's not even going to be eating with us.”

  It was a good point. Plus it would keep food stains off of it. Darla disappeared into the room at the top of the stairs, walking past her quickly. Just as she passed, everyone else in sight in the sunken living room, the girl whispered to her softly.

  “Watch Eve. I think she may try something. She has that look she gets.”

  Then, without breaking stride, she continued on.

  Keeley made herself smile again. What was she supposed to be looking out for? Physical attack? Forced make-overs? Being cheered at? How was she supposed to know? She'd only met the girl two hours before, if that, and hadn't even touched her. It was a way of getting information, but it was too hard to do casually. Really, she probably didn't want to know that much about the girl. For every bland normal thing she got, like a person's favorite color, she also got things that no one else should know. She didn't really want to know what she fantasized about before bed or that she accidentally killed her pet turtle at five or whatever it would be with Eve.

  Knowing secrets sucked, as often as not.

  Shrugging, she decided to just keep and eyes open and see what came. After all, the evening had only just begun. Eve had a bag with her, a very large one. She guarded it carefully and wouldn't let the others look in, even if they wanted. Gary kept trying, which had Hally nearly lying on the floor, laughter coming out hard. Some kind of in joke maybe, because Keeley didn't get it at all.

  “So, what do you want to eat?” She asked the group of near strangers, making sure the whole room heard, her voice pleasant sounding.

  That got laughter too.

  Keeley didn't let it show on her face, but decided right then that the main course had better not be her. For one thing it would take way too long for her to cook.

  Chapter Three

  “Mexican!” Gary yelled cheerily, right fist pumping in the air a little once, which caused gales of laughter.

  Buckets of it. Hally, already reduced to lying on the floor, half propped up on the cream colored sofa, actually squeaked and started crying, hiccuping, as she fought for breath. Even snorting. The soda she had in her hand nearly spilled as the last swallow the rust haired girl had taken tried to come out her nose. That didn't stop her from busting up. She fought for air and finally, desperately managed to speak.

  “Yeah... but... but... you hate tacos!”

  Then Keeley got it. Gay jokes.

  So, Rob was Mexican? That or Gary just liked dark skinned guys. That was normal enough. It didn't involve cooking and eating her at all. She just shrugged, making herself smile. It probably wouldn't help for her to keep trying to get ideas out of them until the laughing was done. She moved next to Hally, sitting, the girl patted her leg and put her hand up as if for help getting to her feet. She really didn't want to do that. The touch...

  Sighing, she figured it would happen, sooner or later, anyway. The first time was always the one that made her most uncomfortable. Oh, it happened each time, but once she knew someone it didn't matter as much. Whatever shocking secrets they held were a known thing and she knew to block them out. To expect them. Taking the soft white hand gently, she felt the wave hit. Stronger than expected. Stronger even than with Gary earlier. In a heartbeat she knew the girl. It was a close thing, powerful. Emotive and almost raw.

  Keeley knew that she was desperate to pass her classes, was actually bright enough, but feared she was a moron, and that she hid diet pills at the back of her closet behind a loose board that she hoped her parents, both drug counselors in their spare time, never found. They were just OTC things, but they'd freak if they got wind of it. They monitored her use of everything, both having been addicts in the past.

  Keeley also knew that her brother, younger than her, thirteen, was a perv who kept trying to watch the neighbor lady undress at night. Hally also was a little worried that she might have a crush on... pretty much everyone she knew, which suddenly included Keeley. That part was interesting, since the girl was also a virgin.

  Just as she managed to pull the girl up, still wearing her cheer outfit in its clashing blue and orange, Gary managed to calm down enough to talk again. He settled himself back in his chair, which looked soft and fluffy and matched the rest of the room, a very white and cream colored place perfectly.

  “But, you know... I love burritos.”

  That caused Hally to lose all muscle control again and nearly pull Keeley down on top of her. She knew enough from being hit and run into almost daily, not to resist, going limp instead, which meant she moved, but only halfway to the floor, pulling forward on her seat a good bit. The red-head at her feet grasped her arm and laid her face on her knee as she lost it. Tears and... other things getting on her jeans. When the girl realized she stopped making noise at least.

  “God, sorry! So gross... Here...” the dash to the kitchen produced some paper towels and enough mopping of her leg to make Eve wiggle her eyebrows at them comically.

  “I never suspected that you liked... tacos so much Hally...” The tone was playful, not attacking and sent Hally into another fit of giggles.

  That was the scene when Darla walked back in, smiling happily enough, glad it seemed, to have everyone around, even if she didn't get the joke yet. She didn't have a problem with what was going on, and looked directly at Keeley and winked.

  Still with the winking. It made her wonder what the heck was up with that. It was so vastly contrived that everyone should have been able to see it, right?

  “So, what's for dinner?”

  “Um...” Keeley looked at the others, clearly in no shape yet to make a discussion at all. Shrugging she winked back. An awkward thing, but... maybe she just didn't get the whole playful friend thing yet? When in Rome, Keeley decided with a small lift of the shoulders.

  “Well... The decision seems to be Mexican so far. Gary submits he doesn't like tacos, but I think we all seem to like burritos. There has however been conjecture that Hally might secretly be a Taco fan as well... Cue maniacal laughter in three... two... one...” This all came out deadpan but the room exploded then when they realized what she'd just said.

  Naturally.

  Keeley would have thought they'd been doing drugs already, except that she knew for a fact now, somewhere in her head that the only thing Hally did was her diet pills and Gary would drink, but only rarely, and then mainly just to fit in and not seem overly strange. Darla scooted in next to her on the sofa not touching and nodded, waiting until the room was just nearly quiet before speaking, which took half a minute.

  “OK then. Everybody good for hot beef in their burrito?”

  After that Keeley had to shake her head at the girl and cross her arms.

  “Not fair. They're weak and easy prey right now. We could tell them that grass is green and they'd freak out.” She sighed and tried to look put upon, though really she'd much rather have people happy and laughing than bored. It would be safer for her by far. Bored people were dangerous people. Especially in groups.

  Darla crossed her arms and gave Keeley a dour look, shaking her head sadly.

  “I think you may be right. Instead of torturing them, let's get dinner started and see if they can all calm down in time to eat. Everyone good with rice and refried beans for sides?”

 
No one answered, too busy laughing. Laughing meant acceptance it seemed, so the blond led Keeley to the kitchen.

  The meal prep was amazing once Darla started moving. She pulled an electric griddle from a cabinet, a huge stainless steel one that matched the rest of the room except the wooden floor and the light blue and white streaked marble counters, and set to making the tortillas from scratch. It took mixing, kneading and then letting the dough rest first, so they chopped up bits of steak into fine strips along with little cubes of potatoes and fine pieces of green and red pepper and started frying each in separate pans. Then using a little oil, some spices and fresh tomatoes she mixed up salsa for the whole thing.

  Keeley helped chop and stir, but the whole thing really impressed her. She hadn't really been aware that you could make tortillas and salsa at home. It made sense, but... wow. It hadn't been what she was thinking at all. Really she'd figured that they'd just thaw some things or open some cans. Like what they did at home.

  Darla... flowed. She moved from one thing to the next without pausing at all, without hesitation, not just like she knew what to do next, but gracefully, as if dancing. She stirred and mixed, making the tortillas at the same time, all of them nearly perfect rounds.

  The one Keeley did came out a strange oblong shape.

  The work was all done forty minutes later and Hally, now wearing a pair of blue shorts and a green t-shirt that strained a bit unfairly over her bust line, moved to set the table in the dining room quickly. The plates were fixed in the kitchen, Darla making each one look at least as nice as what they'd find in a restaurant and signaled Keeley to help her get the food to the table with a small smile.

  “I figure, if you're going to eat, it might as well be good, right? It's one of life's pleasures, so stinting on it when you don't have to just lowers the quality of existence.” She whispered as they walked into the other room.

  The others all sat, apparently knowing that if they weren't ready, Darla would probably take the food away. Keeley got all this because of the nervous way they sat, poised and ready for the food to come. That or they were starving, but she didn't think that was the case. The food really smelled wonderful though, so it could have been that. Her own stomach started to complain about not having eaten in a while about then too.

  “Thanks Darla, you too Keeley. This all looks great.” Gary said, not touching his food yet. Manners? From modern American kids? Well, not impossible, but from television she'd half expected a fight to break out before anyone ate.

  The other all just sat too, so the idea that it was manners seemed likely. They weren't all going to pray before the meal were they? Her dad liked to do that at holidays and large gatherings as if to try and trick people into thinking he was religious, even though they hadn't been in a church as a family for years. Not since she was a kid. They'd gone until she was about twelve and she started pointing out all the easily seen inconsistencies in the bible and what the pastor said. She'd only meant to give them a chance to explain it to her, but they asked that she not come back instead. Since then Keeley hadn't really bothered with the idea. Still, she could bow her head and mumble “amen” if that made the others feel better.

  Instead they just started eating at about the same time.

  The food wasn't just good, it was great. Really superb.

  “Darla, this is fantastic.” She said after swallowing the first bite. She knew what was in it, but it was way better than she'd thought it would be. The spices had worked perfectly. Everything had.

  “Thanks. Always nice to know your efforts are appreciated.”

  The rest of the meal was... comfortable. Everyone made a point of including her as if she were an old friend, especially Darla. The blond girl kept making eye contact with her and nodding at the others as if they shared some secret information about them. Keeley just tried not to look confused and smiled back.

  She didn't trust the situation at all.

  After all, half the cheer squad and their homosexual boyfriend suddenly decide to pick her out of the crowd to be their new “best friend”? That made no sense at all. They'd been nice so far, but something was fiercely fishy about the whole thing. That the food was good helped to set her at ease, but that seemed, somehow she couldn't quite place, to be the point of the meal. Darla, who looked all cute and innocent with her blond locks and porcelain complexion, was playing her.

  Playing all of them. Like a violin.

  She could feel it strumming and vibrating across her mind.

  What that meant she had no clue. The girl didn't seem phony. Not at all. Except the winking. Taking a deep breath, ready to be hit with a rush of the girl's life, Keeley reached out and took Darla's left hand in her right, just below the table. Gently and trying to make it seem natural, not like she was making a move on the girl. Because that would be off putting, especially if that was the real reason she'd been invited. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly...

  Nothing happened.

  Nothing.

  Well, something did, Darla gave her hand a little squeeze and let her hand go, as if it were totally normal. But there was no information. No extra bits of data collected and stored, forced, into her mind. Just silence. Well, she did get a little, a faint trace of the story her shirt sleeve told for instance, about when it had been washed last, how it stayed in the huge closet in the main bedroom, but that was all.

  Freaky.

  Everyone she'd touched for years dumped info on her. It was her thing. Almost a rule or something and one of the reasons she avoided people. It had started when she was a kid, nine or ten, the exact date eluded her, because it was a gradual process, getting a bit stronger over time. But it had been everyone she'd come in contact with. Until now.

  Until Darla Gibson.

  For dessert they had ice-cream, the expensive kind, but store bought, though the whipped topping was real and handmade and the chocolate sauce for it, a fudge sauce, got made on the stove top. The cherries at least came from an honest to goodness store bought jar that was kept in the fridge. They ate that at the table too, soft music playing in the background. Classical.

  Because of course, that was what all the kids listened to these days, wasn't it? Everyone rocked out to Vivaldi on Friday night didn't they? Bring on those bad Brahms tunes?

  Keeley tried to keep her suspicion off her face. She didn't know anything after all. It was just all too odd to ignore. But everyone else did. They didn't even see it happening or chose to deny it for some reason. The information was all there. No one bothered with it, except Keeley.

  “Alright everyone, I have the evening's entertainment ready...” Eve said, dramatically and a little darkly. Her look was strange, brown eyes slightly hooded, lips pursed.

  It started to set Keeley's nerves on edge, so she scooted to the front of the dining room chair, an expensive wooden thing that had to weigh twice as much as it looked like it should. A good enough weapon if it came to it. Eve jumped up, a move so quick Keeley nearly did it herself, deciding that whatever was coming, it might be better to meet it on her feet. Not that she was a good fighter, she'd never actually been in a real fight in her life. A girl had pushed her once on the playground in the second grade, but then she apologized and helped her up. Still, she'd seen it done on television, it didn't look that hard.

  Just get rid of all the stuff that obviously wouldn't work in real life, like most of the fancy kicks and make sure to hit people with heavy stuff. It was a plan at least and that lasted in her mind, ready to be called into play, right up until Eve ran back in, holding the game box in her hand.

  “Ouija!” The girl cried, again going for dramatic, drawing the word out and making it sound like she wasn't holding a game from Milton-Bradley in her hand.

  Darla sighed and gave Keeley a sidelong look that spoke of her long suffering and kind spirit. How she had to put up with things like this on occasion, and how, when you got down to it, that just wasn't fair. Then she smiled and nodded.

  “Alright, if that's what you wan
t to do. I guess we can retire to the living room and set up around the coffee table. I'll get some candles to help set the mood. Hally, will you be a dear and get some pillows from the sitting room?”

  Keeley knew what a Ouija board was of course. They'd been reviled in church as a kid and occasionally caused problems on television, not that she bothered watching any more. It got a bit boring once she figured out that the shows only worked on fifteen different premises and rarely deviated from the norm. Everyone always knew what was going to happen, didn't they? There was no real point to it.

  All she had to do was help Hally with the pillows, the girl having shifted her brilliant hair into a ponytail not that different from what Keeley wore herself. Her scrunchy was pink, not brown, but she'd taken off her make-up, which left her face a little pale. Scared looking now, instead of happy and light hearted.