Expel

  “Please—I’ll be in a tent by prom.” She looks dejected just thinking of the idea. “So, I’ve totally taken over at the bowling alley. I don’t have you down for hours yet. Let me know when you’re ready. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve been having Chloe pinch hit.”

  “What?” Chloe is like a virus that hits you coming and going. I’d rather eat dinner out of a public urinal than brush elbows with Chloe at work.

  “I needed someone. There were three shifts to cover, and desperate times call for hiring desperate people. Besides, she was way mellow while you were gone.”

  “That’s because I was gone and the fact she was able to hold a private candlelight vigil next to Gage every night.” She was probably kissing him, licking his face like a cat—groping him inappropriately.

  “True, she went before and after work.”

  “Well, someone call the Vatican. We’ve got a real freaking saint on our hands.”

  “I don’t want to upset you or anything, but she’s totally opened up to me. You know, we used be good friends before she ditched me for the bitch squad. I mean it’s not like we’re BFF’s now or anything, but she’s talking to me again like a real person. Who knew Chloe Bishop had a heart?”

  “If she’s got a heart, it’s because she ate one for breakfast. Don’t let her fool you. She’s a heartless, soulless bitch that will annihilate anything and anyone who gets in her way.”

  She gives a slow nod. “She may have mentioned the fact, she lives to take you down.”

  “I can’t really take it personally. She lives to take down anything that stands in her way of Gage.” In fact, if I had to guess what she was doing on all those questionable light drives with Ellis, I’d venture to say she was working on rearranging Gage’s genetic code to somehow include falling in love with her. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit to find out she accidentally dismantled the universe in her impotent efforts at procuring his affection. One day Chloe is going to screw up gravity and turn us all into space debris trying to crack the code to Gage Oliver’s heart. “Besides, I nailed her to a wall.” An image of Logan’s film playing at the bowling alley runs through my tired brain. “There is no way she’s going to get in the way of my relationship with Gage ever again.”

  “I don’t know,” Brielle circles over me with a look of apprehension. “I’d watch my back if I were you.”

  “Chloe’s the one who’d better watch her back. If I get proof she took down Logan and Gage, she’s going back to hell, and I’ll make sure to lock the door behind her this time.”

  “Fighting words,” Ellis slings his arm around my shoulder. “Who’s going? And how’s your hand?”

  “Never mind. I’m going to see Gage after school, and my hand is one hundred percent.” I wiggle my urine free fingers.

  The sky peels open. A flood of rain collapses over the awning we’re huddled beneath. A violent spray of lightning bathes the world around us with its unusual brand of daylight.

  “Party Saturday at my house,” Ellis leans in as though this were a breaking news update. “I might need to take a quick trip with my love honey Friday night just to ensure a good time is had by all.” He bumps into me when he says love honey, our new light driving safe word.

  “Saturday is Valentine’s Day!” Brielle hops when she says it. “I have this whole romantic thing planned for me and Drake. We’re going to the falls to build a fire, if the weather doesn’t ruin things.”

  “You can’t go to the falls,” Ellis scoffs. “You have to come to my house. I’m having a special event.”

  “Brownie bake off?” I ask. That would explain the light drive. “Oh, and no to Friday night.” I’m tiring of that whole routine of me taking him back and losing my boyfriend in the process while all Ellis ever seems to lose is a few lousy brain cells.

  “Better than a brownie bake off,” he assures. “You’ll have to come over and find out for yourselves. Trust me, no one is going to want to miss this.”

  “You’re hanging Chloe from a tree, and we’re all going to take turns beating her with a baseball bat?” I ask, hopeful. The visual alone is enough to brighten my day.

  “Yeah,” his eyes bulge at the thought. “Something like that. Only there won’t be any candy spilling out when she finally cracks open, more like snakes and rats.” He snarls into me. “Just be there. Don’t blow this one off or you’ll be sorry,” he warns. And with that, he treks off into the storm.

  ***

  The week goes on with its peculiar rhythm of school and my daily visits to the hospital. I let Gage siphon off my fingers, feel his passion grow as he indulges on the salty brine of my affection. His face glows a rosy pink, his hair shines anew, black as the glossy feathers on Nevermore’s back. He looks all together splendid, nothing like the near corpse he was that first day I found him intubated and attached to the animatronic robot that assisted with his breathing. I plan on satisfying him with a lot more than what my bone marrow could ever offer once they release him.

  Thursday night after they evict me from the hospital, I nestle up on my window seat and stare up at the hazy night sky. The storm has blown over, and the white pristine breath of God once again finds a home on Paragon, cradling us like a child with a flower before it mercilessly plucks off the petals. Something malignant is brewing, there’s a sinister rush of excitement in the air. The evergreens attest to this as they gloat in the wind. An unsettling feeling has plagued me ever since I left the Transfer that day.

  A gentle peck erupts on the other side of the glass. I jump back startled to find Nevermore grazing at the window with the necrotic tip of his beak. I roll out the casement and let him crouch inside.

  “Hey, you.” I say, sealing out the roving fog. “I absolutely hate that you have to live out there like some kind of animal.” I land my warm palm over his back, stroke his feathers soft as a dream. He stands tall, regal. Nevermore is an exceptional size even for a raven.

  I am an animal. He twitches and shudders beneath me.

  “Maybe,” I twirl my thumb over the top of his head. “But you were very much human once upon a time. Isn’t that right—Heathcliff?”

  He lets out an unexpected caw and sends me pressing my finger over my lips in an effort to reprimand him.

  “Tad will snap your neck and prep you for the frying pan if he finds you in here.” Ironic because he didn’t bother doing that to Gage when he caught us in bed together. My father would have sawed him in half at the waist for committing such a carnal crime even if it were totally chaste. “I think Tad’s afraid of you.”

  He should be. I’ll peck his eye out if he tries imprisoning me again. Now, back to subject at hand, Skyla—my name. Who dispensed such worthless information?

  “Your lady love,” I hold my breath a moment before filling him in on the dirty terms of my agreement with Ezrina.

  Skyla, it expels from him with great sadness, she’s resorted to trickery in order procure a body for herself. She’s desperate to break out of that prison cell of a carcass—the sentence she’s been handed is too much for her to bear. Don’t you see? She realizes she’s asked the impossible. The Justice Alliance is in no manner going to entertain a retrial.

  “Are you sure?” I guess Ezrina lying to me to get what she wants isn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility. God, she really is like me. “Anyway, lest you forget, my mother practically runs the judicial circus in the sky. This is a no-brainer. Of course she’s gonna help me out and get you guys a new trial. That’s what nepotism is all about.”

  Oh, so you think we’ve suffered out our punishments for the simple fact we didn’t have the right familial relations? Oh, dear girl, don’t you know by now that there are rules to comply with and that those rules are set in stone?

  “Let me guess—the word covenant is involved,” I sigh, annoyed. That’s all Marshall ever gripes about is covenants and promises. You’d think the infrastructure of the universe would come unhinged if people didn’t do what they promised.

  I
t is a covenant. There is no way to undo what the Justice Alliance has deemed a worthy punishment. This is an eternal grievance, and we must live to accept that. I myself realize those terms and Ezrina does as well. It looks to me like she took full advantage of the fact one person in particular didn’t, my dear, and that person would be you.

  I swallow hard at the thought.

  I’d better find a way to beat Ezrina at her own crooked game, or I’ll be hacking up corpses for a good long while.

  Marshall blinks through my mind, and I push back the thought. He said I was on my own, and judging by the pissed off expression on his face while he was wiping my spit out of his eye, I’d say he meant it.

  I’ll have to get Ezrina a new trial myself.

  And I don’t have a ray of hope to cling to.

  Chapter 11

  Sweet Release

  Friday, everything feels gloriously normal again.

  After school, a thick layer of snowy vapors swallow up Paragon before spitting us back out into the carnal reserve of daylight with harsh biting rain. Marshall completely ignored me during class. He acts as if he’s relegated himself to simply being my math teacher. I secretly hate the non-attention. I desperately miss the hypersexual bantering albeit one-sided, but I’ll never let on. I’ll just get my community service moved to the ranch ASAP and let him molest me with his eyes and suggestive verbal assaults once I get there. It’s win-win.

  Chloe runs us ragged during cheer while prepping us for the almighty All State competition coming up in April. It’s at the end of spring break, and the school is invited to the Cain River campsite, all expenses paid, in exchange for fixing up their dilapidated facilities. Which is great because that means I’ll be spending an entire week with Gage, and, well, technically Chloe, but she’s beside the point per usual. Plus, we can nix all of the cupcake drives and bikini carwashes Chloe had mapped out to raise funds for our misadventure and focus on what really matters, spending time with Gage in a hotel room.

  Logan struts over in a pair of saggy jeans that hang far below the waist and threaten to fall off his person as he debuts his new swagger. He’s unforgivably paired it with a skin tight shirt with the effigy of a dragon imprinted on the front—red sequins sewn on as eyes.

  Holy crap. He looks like a complete douchebag, but I’m not going to say anything. Or maybe I am.

  “What’s with the scum wear?” I ask, stepping out of formation while the bitch squad continues to gyrate around me. That’s all that’s left of the team now, the bitch squad and me—another reason for me to resent Drake for knocking up Brielle.

  “You like?” He taps his chest, gorilla style.

  “No, I don’t like. Nobody likes.” Logan is really making it easy for me to get over him, and I’m not sure I like that either.

  “You busy after this?”

  “Yes, with Gage.” I’m surprised he even has to ask. “Can I have a ride? My car sort of ran out of gas, had to hitch a ride with Brielle this morning.”

  “Messenger,” Chloe barks and motions for Logan to get the hell off the field, “back in line.”

  “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride.” He crimps a frown. The slight look of hurt lingers in his eyes.

  Chloe yanks me into the team huddle.

  “We need to start up Saturday practice. I’ll need everyone here by seven.”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day,” I protest. “Some of us have places to go tomorrow night.” I suppose all of us, since we’ll most likely all be at Ellis’, but more specifically I’m talking about me and Gage.

  “In the morning, Messenger. Seven in the morning,” she screams it in my face.

  “Nice,” I say, wiping the saliva she just assaulted me with, off my cheek.

  “One more time!” She claps.

  We start in on the routine for the All State competition. I kick and jump and put one thousand percent of my concentrated energy into the effort. At the end of the routine I take leave of my senses long enough to let Emily, Michelle, and Lexy hoist me into the air, hopeful that I might land back into the safety of their arms the way I’m supposed to and not impress myself into West Paragon’s field the way I envision. Surprisingly, they swaddle me like a baby before ejecting me to the ground in one piece. I look over to Logan for approval, a thumbs up, a nod—but he’s too busy texting to notice.

  A light drizzle starts in. The sky dims to pitch in an instant. Strangely it feels and looks like midnight. The days on Paragon are often cut short with a boil of black clouds—daylight seems something of a myth in general. But just knowing I get to see Gage sets my heart on fire, fills me with an unquenchable light brighter than a nuclear blast on the inside.

  “If the weather’s crappy we’ll meet in the gym.” Chloe claps, officiating the fact practice is over, still not sure why Ms. Richards lets her run the show. “Good job, Messenger.”

  Everything stops around me. Even Michelle looks up from her sleep deprived stupor to gawk at Chloe in shock over her slip of the tongue.

  “Thank you,” I reply. Chloe is trying to lure me into quicksand. I can see the snarl tugging at her lip, the tightrope she had to walk just to get the words out in a level manner.

  “Replicate the moves you somehow managed to pull off here today, come April, and I won’t be compelled to twist your head off for ruining the championship.”

  There’s the verbal venom I’ve grown accustomed to.

  Emily steps into Lexy. “I’m doing couple’s pages tomorrow night at Ellis’. You remember—mapping out your love life for the year and crap.” It seems to be a private exchange, but I can’t help but overhear. I would wash Emily’s underwear by hand if she wanted me to, just to listen to the wacky shit capable of coming from of her mouth. I’m that obsessed with her secret ability to draw out the future like a comic strip.

  “Oh, so Gage and I can get one, right?” I ask, inviting myself into the conversation.

  “You don’t need to be a real couple to do it, so sure.” She shrugs.

  Chloe still has everyone brainwashed into believing she and Gage are the real deal. I hope Gage is able to attend Ellis’ party, even if it’s a five-minute stint. I want to pull him into the center of the room with all of West and East surrounding us and give him a big fat welcome home kiss. Well, technically I’m going to give him his welcome home kiss tonight. It’s the F off Chloe kiss I’ll be giving him tomorrow night and basically every other time I kiss him again in public. I still can’t believe we’re finally free from her evil clutches. The wicked witch of East may be back on campus from whence she came, but she’s forever barred from forcing Gage to spend time with her again.

  “I want one,” Michelle insists. She pinches at the black unholy rose of horrors Marshall gave her as a token of his strange affection.

  “Sure,” Emily plucks at her short dark curls. It slithers around her finger like a thin black snake. “I’ll do yours first, I really don’t care.”

  Emily has a warm way about her. She could easily be arranging our lineup for the firing squad.

  Lexy cuts her gaze across the field at Logan. “I want mine to be a little more exciting than the one you gave me last year. I’d like to see more Oliver this time, turn in my lonely-hearts club membership for a real relationship, or a one-night stand. I’d definitely settle for a one-night stand.”

  “Me, too,” Michelle chimes in. She cocks her head over at Logan, who motions for me to hurry. “I guess I wouldn’t mind more Oliver either.” She lets go of the rose and licks her lips like a promise.

  Looks like her infatuation with Marshall might be waning after all. I can’t wait to share the news with him, but something tells me I should stay away. Bruising Marshall’s ego is never a good idea. Neither is discharging bodily fluids into his ocular region, but I’ve already done that.

  “See you in the morning,” I turn to walk off but Chloe catches me by the elbow.

  “Please tell Gage I’m glad he’s doing better.” There’s a hard glint in her eye, a shard of he
r broken heart catches the reserve light of day and signals me with her pain. And for the first time, my own heart breaks just a little for Chloe.

  “I will,” I say.

  “Oh, and, Skyla?” Her lips turn up at the edges. “I hope you enjoy your evening tomorrow night—as Logan and I have both learned the hard way, you never know when it will be your last.”

  Chapter 12

  Home Sweet Home

  Logan gives a NASCAR worthy performance all the way to the Oliver house, jackknifing into the driveway—laughing like fiend while doing so.

  “Holy crap,” I scream. “Are you serious?” I stare at his hauntingly beautiful face that has always been rivaled by his inner beauty—which by the way he’s managed to destroy faster than a brushfire with all this live for the now junk he’s fielding. “And what is up with you having a pow-wow with Chloe? She fed me all this bull about how the two of you really know how to appreciate life because it can end at any moment, crap.”

  “It’s not crap, Skyla,” he says it disgruntled while killing the ignition. “It’s true. And by the way,” he jostles his head side to side full with sarcasm, “you can’t pick my friends.” His gaze floats out the windshield just beyond the forest. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Bossing me the hell around?” He scoffs like it’s the last time that’ll ever happen.

  “No, I never boss you around. You broke up with me remember? You were the one who suggested I date Gage to protect our relationship from the Counts. You were the one who consistently kept quiet about important things I should have known from the beginning like the fact you were a Count yourself. It could be further deduced, that you my friend, bossed me the hell around.”

  “Wow,” his chin pushes back a notch. “I, Logan Oliver, really am an ass.”

  I give a little laugh. I might actually grow to like this self-abasing version of him.