Devils' Day Party

by C.M. Stunich

Today, I’m wearing two masks: the one on my face, and the one that is my face. I can never be my true self within these walls, not without risking everything.

She’s right: I did let Calix trick me into bed, even when I knew his words were a lie, his intentions rotten, his love a trick.

She’s, like, maybe five foot two and pregnant as fuck. It’s a bit terrifying to look at sometimes, her dress shirt untucked,

“You know, some part of me wants you to get pregnant.” He flexes his jaw, turning to look back at me with a face as sharp and cunning as a fox's. “Because then I'll be allowed—no, encouraged—to be with you. Otherwise, my dad will never let me have a girl like you.”

“And then you went and picked Calix. How? How could you pick Calix?” Raz laughs, and the sound is far from pleasant. “All those years and all I wanted was you. Every girl I fucked had your face. Every movement I made, I did for you. But you let his cruelty go and punished me for mine. I'm mad, Karma. I'm righteously pissed.”

Nothing lasts forever. That is the nature of beautiful things.

“Did you know there's a species of fireflies where the females blink their lights to draw in potential suitors, and then eat them?” Barron says absently, turning to look at me over his shoulder. “They remind me of you.”

If I start the morning upsetting Calix and Raz, but leaving Barron alone, he lets us out of the cabin, and we head to see the butterflies again. Every night, despite knowing it’s coming, I let him kiss me.

Sometimes, it's easy to forget how a simple question or an easy smile that doesn't mean much to you, can mean the world to someone else. “You should always be nice, Raz, because you never know when someone's so full of pain they might snap.”

“Kiss me, Karma. And then ride me. I don't care if I see a ghost. He can watch if he wants, but we're not stopping until the goddamn ghost tour.”

“Marry me, Karma,” he says as we begin to pick up the pace, his hands on my hips encouraging me to go faster, plunge him deeper, rock harder. “Run away with me after school is out; I'll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Marry me. My parents have my older brothers. They honestly don't give a fuck about me. They'll give me money and tell me to get lost. I'm just asking you to get lost with me.”

“Je t'appartiendrai malgré tout. Toujours,” he murmurs as I drift to sleep, wrapped up in Calix's arms and feeling his breath in my hair. Regardless, I’ll still belong to you. Always. I have no choice but to spend the next three days crying at home.

Words sit on the tip of my tongue, desperate to escape, to bridge the gap between us. Remember when we had breakfast at the Mud Street Café? Then we went to the hotel, and you skimmed my bare arms with your fingertips. You even mentioned a ghost you saw as a child, and you owe me that story! We fucked on those crisp, white sheets, and you looked down at me like you would never leave. Instead, I say nothing.

We think our actions have little effect on the world around us, but that isn't true. Just one person, one moment, one single word can change somebody else's world entirely.

Was it okay for Raz to bully me because he didn't know how to express his feelings? Fuck no. But people are human, fallible creatures capable of beautiful destruction. We're also capable of selfless acts, acts of true love, acts of compassion.

There's just something about blurting a dark secret into the bright light of day that chases away all the shadows. It isn't easy for most people to lie well enough to escape, even if it's only their body language that gives away their treachery.

“Karma, you're shaking like crazy, and there's blood all over your shirt …” “Don’t worry; it’s not mine,”

“I knew.” Raz turns back to me, face dark, as serious as I've ever seen it. “But I didn't care. Because if Calix wasn't such a coward then you'd fall for him, and I wouldn't stand a chance. I'm a selfish, ugly bastard, Karma. I wanted him to fail. I wanted it more than anything.”

There's an edge to it, like he's balancing on a precipice, but there's a tenderness, too. I realize then that I've seen this expression before, more than once, but that I've just never recognized it. With a gun to his fucking head, Calix Knight admitted he loves me.

This all started because I drove my moms' car off the edge of the road, because I died, because I didn't appreciate what I had when I had it. Goodnight, little devil, I tell myself as I start to drift further from consciousness. And good luck in the next life.

“We're not treating you differently because you tried to kill yourself,” Barron says in that deep, low voice of his. “We're treating you the way we should've treated you all along. Your suicide attempt was a wakeup call for all of us. You won't be here forever, Karma, waiting around for us to get our shit together.” Barron pauses and glances out the window as we pull up to Crescent Prep. “Life doesn't often give do-overs, now does it?”

“And every day, we make a dozen decisions that affect everyone around us. Today, I'm going to assume we're all moving to New Orleans to live happily ever after. That's good enough for me, that I'm happy right now, here, today.”

Tomorrow. What a novel fucking idea. I actually have a tomorrow coming, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me.