Page 111 of Devils' Day Party
“You hit Calix's car because you wanted to talk to me?” he clarifies, his voice edging on cruel hysteria, like he wants to maintain the status quo, put me down, destroy me … but that he's holding back.
“How else could I get your attention?” I ask, lifting my face up to his. “I work so hard at being invisible for you, so that you'll leave me alone. Something like that, it's hard to undo.”
Raz is silent for several long moments, as customers come in and out of the doors to the convenience store.
“I've thought a lot of things about you over the years,” Raz starts, his voice hesitant as he eyes me with narrowed red eyes. “But invisible? You've never been invisible to me. I couldn't forget you if I tried.”
It's hard to fight back the sudden rush of emotion, the memory of my mother's words telling me, if you stay up long enough to see the sunrise, paint it. Of that text from Luke, telling me that Pearl was dead. Again. Of Calix's story, told over coffee in the Mud Street Café.
“Maybe, just for today, you hold my hand?” I repeat, and Raz's eyes narrow, but he nods, just once, almost reluctantly. His gaze follows me as I head for the doors to the cooler and pull out an iced coffee, taking it to the counter before I realize I don't have any money. “I've got it,” he says before I even get a chance to ask, chucking some cash on the counter before following me outside.
Glancing quickly over at the car, I see that Barron's in the front seat, hood pulled up, his big body bent over the screen of his phone. While he's not looking, I take his sketchbook from the trash and flip it open.
My face stares back at me from light and shadow, from beautiful organic lines, heavy with all the sentiment and emotion that's missing from the rest of his work. He puts up a façade with his art, the same way as he does with his emotions. Only in here is he real.
“Jesus,” Raz says, staring at the notebook over my shoulder. “Stalker, much?” I tuck the sketchbook under my arm and head for Little Bee, pausing when Raz grabs onto my arm. “Where are you going?” he asks, and I smile, nodding my chin in the direction of the passenger side door.
“Climb in, and I'll show you,” I tell him, getting in the driver's side and waiting with heavy tension for Raz to join me. After a moment, he does, folding his long body into Little Bee and curling his lip at the torn gray seats and the stickers plastering the dashboard. Most of them are the antithesis of everything he believes in. Well, that his dad believes in anyway.
“This car is a shitbox,” he observes, leaning back in his seat as I put us in reverse and remove my bumper from Calix's car, the very same car I sat in just a few days ago, where I stripped naked as he clutched the steering wheel in white knuckled hands.
“Thanks for noticing,” I murmur, but I smile anyway, taking us straight to Crescent Prep, over winding roads with golden fall foliage on either side. We don't talk much. Mostly Raz just stares at me, like he's expecting me to pull a serious Devils' Day prank on him. “Do you know where Pearl usually goes during lunch?” I ask, wondering if I can't nail two birds with one stone today.
Save Pearl. And spend time with Raz.
“Pearl?” he asks, blinking through his sudden confusion. “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck Pearl. She's the one who got me sent to Crescent Prep in the first place.” Raz's scowl is legendary. Actually, at this point, it's pretty obvious that he never really hated me. The way he looks now? That's true ire burning in his bloodred gaze.
“How?” I turn to glance at him briefly before flicking my attention back to the road. I've had enough trouble with cars during this stupid time loop. Cars, and death. Two constants. Now, if I could just get through today without anyone dying, I'd consider it a win.
“Does it matter? She's a nightmare, barely human.” Raz puts his foot up against the dash, resting his head in his hand as he looks over at me, calculating as always, sharp as he always is. “What do you give a crap about Pearl anyway? Doesn't she hate you, too?”
“She calls me Trailer Park,” I say, purposely vague as we head up the gravel driveway toward Crescent Preparatory Academy. “If that means she hates me, then I guess you're right.”
We park in one of the front spaces, and I decide I'll use this as a test for Raz. Will he help the Knight Crew smash up Little Bee and then drag her to the woods? Or is everything going to be different today? It almost seems too easy.
