Speed Demon (9 page)

“Ha ha, aren’t we funny. Never. Okay, so I threw my apple peel over my shoulder—”

He interrupted me. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s not important! But I threw it too hard and it went through the gap in the plastic in the hole in the kitchen wall and into the garage.” I paused for air. “Then I went to get it and it was by the van and it was oozing.”

“Oozing?” His eyebrow went up.

“Like the way my shower drain did last time. Oozing this foul nasty red slime like open heart surgery and, and, I don’t know . . . it was just seriously yucky.”

“Yucky?”

“Yes, yucky!” Why was he repeating everything I said? “Then it had a face in it.”

“In the apple peel?”

“Yes. And it growled at me. So what was it and what do we do?”

I felt worried. I sounded worried. I was sure I looked worried. Levi? Not so much. He might as well have been chillin’ with a Dr Pepper and a doughnut in front of Cartoon Network.

“Well, it’s obvious that when the peel went through the portal, a prison guard used it as a medium. But it’s still stuck in the apple peel, so it’s no big deal. And
we
don’t do anything.
You
have to close the portal.”

“Oh, here we go. Kenzie do this, do that, but I’m sorry, I can’t tell you what to do, how to do it, and even where to do it. Just wander around knowing nothing and trying to close whatever it might be wherever it might be.” I was pacing again and gesturing and biting my fingernails. “It’s not like closing a dresser drawer here!” I paused and looked at him. “Is it?”

He shook his head.

Blech. Of course not. I started ranting again. “I need something to work with here! I can’t be wandering around in Moron Land stumbling over random demon prison guards. If I’m going to be a slayer—which I don’t want to be, but it seems like I have zippo for choices—then I need some knowledge, some skills.”

Levi was smiling. Grinning actually, and it ticked me off. “What?” I asked, as grouchy with him as Marshmallow Pants had been in the family room. Too bad I didn’t have any handy razor-sharp claws. I could add my artwork to his face alongside the cat’s stinging red scratches.

“You’re handling this all really well.”

“Don’t mock me!” I glanced around for something to whip at him, infuriated.

“I’m not!” He actually looked shocked and he walked over to me. “I’m seriously not. I meant it. I know none of this has been easy and you’ve been cool with it all along. I know I popped out of your drain and screwed up your life and you’re dealing really well. I . . .”

“What?” I asked, still feeling put out but also feeling like if he kept throwing compliments my way I could get over it.

“I really respect you. Like you. A lot.”

Okay. You see what’s coming here, don’t you?

I melted a little. Let him take my hand and look at me pleadingly with those pale green eyes.

“K, I would help you if I could. I feel really bad about everything and I think of you as like my best friend, and I don’t want this to be hard for you.”

He thought of me as his best friend? That was really sweet. “Levi . . . it’s fine. I know you’re not doing it on purpose. But the Underworld’s rules suck, you know. I’m just saying.”

“They do. But I’ll try to help you. I really will.”

And then he kissed me.

Yep. He did it again.

And do you think I learned
anything
from the first time?

No. Nothing. Nada.

Zip. Zero.

My first thought was
No way
. I couldn’t believe he was just leaning in and going for it all over again after apologizing for doing it the first time. My second thought, post-lip connection, was
Wow
. The demon could kiss.

It was like when you take the first big bite of pink cotton candy and it melts in your mouth in a massive sugar puddle and your brain sort of freezes and your body jolts and your mouth zings, and after a few seconds you’re with it enough to think,
Good Stuff
.

The kiss was Good Stuff.

Proving that I was in fact a horrible person, I didn’t even hesitate once I realized the kiss was awesome, but slid my hands around his neck and kissed him back, our bodies pressing together. I could hear his breathing getting faster, feel the warmth of his chest against mine, and the tightening of his fingers on my waist. No idea where we thought we were going with it, but we were just going.

I had no clue how much time had passed, but it was likely a new president had taken office and we had completely missed our high school graduation while we were busy making out, and I didn’t really care.

Until the door to Zoe’s room opened and somewhere in the back of my foggy brain I realized that was a bad thing.

We were caught.

Oh. My. God.

I jerked back away from Levi and turned to see who it was, wiping my wet lips, rubbing my damp hands on my dress, trying to calm my heart down, and praying like crazy that it was just my sister or even my mother. That wouldn’t be nearly as bad as anyone else at the party.

But it wasn’t just anyone.

It was Adam.

$#@!%!

Now that was bad. Mucho Bad. Grande Bad. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, could only stare at him, registering the hurt and horror on his very, very cute face.

Adam didn’t say anything.

Levi was quiet too, for once.

There was a long awful pause where I felt all the tortilla chips I’d eaten churn and start to crawl back up my throat.

Then Adam just turned and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

I could hear his feet on the steps as he ran down them.

“I’m sorry, Kenzie,” Levi said into the stunned silence, and I felt my whole head go hot, then clammy. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Chapter Seven

I sucked.

Plain and simple.

There I was, dating the guy I had crushed on for a year, who treated me like a rock star, and who put up with my being grounded for driving a minivan through my kitchen, whose friends were nice to me, and who had defended me against his mother, and what did I do?

Made out with a demon.

Who did that????

Me. Kenzie Sutcliffe. Stupidest sixteen-year-old on planet Earth. That’s who.

I stood there gasping for air, feeling sick to my gut, no clue what to do to make it all better. To make it go away.

“I’ll talk to Adam,” Levi said.

That set me into motion. “No!” I said, running for the door. “That will only make it worse. I mean, what can you possibly say?”

“That it was all my fault,” he said, following me.

I moved faster, out of my room and down the hall, wanting away from Levi, my very own walking talking Mistake. I had no clue what I could possibly say to Adam, but I had to say something. Apologize. Beg for forgiveness. The usual things you do when its clear a relationship has landed at the bottom of the toilet and its all your fault.

But when I hit the family room and glanced wildly around, Dirk said, “What’s going on? Adam tore out of here.”

“He left?”

“Yep. A minute ago. Looking like he’d taken a baseball bat in the face.”

Ouch. Twist the screw of my guilt a little harder. I ran for the front door, ignoring Levi’s suggestion to just let him go, and hauling myself as fast as my heels could take me. Adam was backing out of the driveway in his truck, so I waved my arms and called to him. “Adam! Stop. Please.”

To my amazement, he actually did. He rolled the window down when I got to the driver’s side and just stared at me, his face white in the dark. “What?” he asked.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” I said.

Yeah, good one, Kenzie. Because everyone always believes that lame, completely stupid, illogical, I’m-caught-and-don’t-want-to-admit-it load of crap I had just handed him.

He clearly agreed because he scoffed. “Really. It looked like you were making out with Levi to me. That’s not what it was?”

“No . . . it was a kiss. Guess you were right about the fact that he likes me. I honestly had no idea,” I said, biting my lip and trying to look innocent, knowing I was lying, knowing he knew I was lying, hating myself and a certain houseguest from hell and the fact that I couldn’t do anything without screwing it up.

“You were kissing him back,” he pointed out.

“I don’t think . . .” I couldn’t do it. It was pointless to lie when he had seen me. “I’m sorry,” I said instead. “I didn’t mean . . .”

Adam’s jaw twitched. “Bye, Kenzie.” Then he looked behind him and backed up slowly to avoid the roaming packs of trick-or-treaters, and I was left standing there, the wind cutting through my trapeze dress and my heart honestly actually truly breaking.

I had no idea it could even feel that way—sort of squeezed and crushed and flat and empty. I had fun with Adam. His smile made me smile. He could pick me up and swing me around even though I was five foot nine. He was the only person who said “dude” repeatedly and it didn’t annoy me.

Dude, it hurt. I had just ruined the rest of my junior year of high school.

I walked inside, determined to avoid everyone and run up to my room and let the tears that were begging to run down my face a chance to do their thing.

Except everyone was huddled ten feet from the front door, between me and the stairs to privacy. There was whispering, and Justin was rubbing Darla’s back, and there were expressions of shock and I knew then that they knew . . .

Isabella stalked up to me in her Jasmine costume, which at some point had been altered by the addition of an Abercrombie T-shirt that I was pretty sure was Levi’s. Iz’s mouth was tight, her face pale, her hands on her hips.

“Did you make out with Levi?” she asked me, not even bothering to keep her voice down.

Panicked, I just stared at her. I couldn’t answer that with a dozen people watching me in horrified curiosity.

“Hey, Isabella,” Levi said, coming to my side. “Leave Kenzie alone. It’s not her fault.”

Well, that just confirmed it was all true. I closed my eyes for a brief second. Not that anyone doubted it, because clearly Adam had told someone when he’d left, who in turn had told the whole room, and we weren’t going to be able to deny it. But Levi could have allowed me that illusion just a little longer.

And how was it not my fault, exactly? I was there, wasn’t I? I had kissed Levi because I had wanted it (eek, did I just admit that?). But it was time to take responsibility for it.

“So you did?” Isabella asked, darting her eyes from Levi to me again.

“Yes,” I said. “And we both know it shouldn’t have happened, and I’m really sorry that I hurt . . . anyone.” Meaning both Adam and her. I didn’t think she would want her crush on Levi broadcast.

“Uh-oh,” Darla said.

“Dude,” Dirk said.

“Levi,” Justin said. “Man, Adam’s your friend. What’s up with that?”

After that, it all disintegrated into tears, arguing, hands thrown up in the air, and lots of bodies stalking their way out of my house.

When Isabella left, declaring us no longer best friends, I couldn’t deal. I left the stragglers who were still hanging around for Levi to deal with and I ran upstairs and flung myself onto my bed as hard as I possibly could and cried until my eyes were swollen, my nose was running, and my throat was raspy.

Levi knocked on my locked door four times and gave me lots of pleading, “Can we talk about this?” lines, but I totally ignored him.

“I can hear you crying,” he said the second time he showed up.

Yeah, no duh. So what? I buried my face in my pillow and contemplated my fate now that everyone in the world hated my guts.

The last time he actually said, “If you don’t at least answer me and let me know you’re alive, I’m breaking this damn door down.”

Though part of me was curious to see if he actually would, I didn’t want the consequences from my father if more damage to the house occurred. Neither did I want Levi actually anywhere near me. So I dragged my wet, dripping, drooling head off my pillow and yelled, “Leave me alone!”

“Good, you’re okay,” he said, in obvious relief.

Okay?
Okay
? I was so not okay.

 

 

Monday. Always a less than exciting day. But this was Monday the day after Halloween. The traditional Day of the Dead. And in this case, day of my dead social career.

It was—and I know this totally sounds overdramatic, but really, if you had been there, you would agree—the single worst day of my entire life.

No one was talking to me. No one. Not even friends I’d had for years, not even random weirdos who normally look for anyone to glom on to. I was like bad breath. Moldy cheese. Acne. Teen pregnancy. Everyone was trying to avoid me. Weren’t we too old for this? Hadn’t we left all this clique crap behind us back in middle school? Hadn’t we learned not to judge until we knew the whole story?

Of course, the whole story was that I had in fact made out with Levi in my baby sister’s bedroom at a Halloween party I had thrown for the purpose of getting my best friend together with Levi and to which I had invited primarily my boyfriend’s friends, resulting in total humiliation for cheated-on boyfriend and utter devastation for best friend.

Blech. I wouldn’t talk to me either.

I spent the day in silence, moving from class to class, feeling like I was going to throw up as people whispered behind my back, avoided my eyes, and gave lame excuses why they couldn’t sit with me at lunch or couldn’t walk with me to English or math or whatever the way they usually did.

“Ohmigod! Like I totally forgot I have to pick up a flyer for the French trip right now. I’ll catch up with you later, Kenzie.”

Uh-huh.

Or “Wow, um, I have to go talk to my counselor.”

Because anyone ever willingly does that.

Others like Darla said it straight out. “I can’t talk to you because Reggie is best friends with Adam.”