From down the crowded hallway, Cissy spies me and waves. “Hey, Myla!”
I step up to her locker, my brain still a blur. “Morning.” I’m pretty sure Cissy gabs on about some change to gym class. I can’t process her words, so I do my best to smile and look interested. Then, I hear something that sounds like blah-blah-blah Ryder library blah-blah-blah.
I blink and shake my head. “What did you say, Cis?”
“You’re going to the Ryder library after school today, right?”
“Yup.” Maybe I can read up on being a half-ghoul. Yay.
“Great. See you later!” She steps into the crowd. I start the long slog over to History class. Looking up, I half-expect a little black storm-cloud to hover over my head.
I reach my classroom and settle into a chair in the last row. Zeke slides into the seat across the aisle from mine. Blech.
“Hey, Myla.”
“Hi.”
A genuine grin warms his chiseled features. “Did I tell you what Cissy did the other day?”
“No.” I’m pretty sure he starts talking about Cissy, but I’m having issues with my attention span today. I can’t understand a word. Instead, I focus on his cheery face and animated hand gestures. It’s like watching a kitten chase a ball of string. He’s so happy; I can’t help but smile. After a while, his words become clear.
“My parents really like her.” Zeke tosses his mop of golden hair. “They’re showing her the ropes of diplomacy; she’s a natural. Like at this political dinner, she smiled and made small talk with some of the most boring losers ever. It was great.”
Miss Thing claps her hands. “Your attention, class!” She strides across the front of the room, her long robes swaying with each step. Unfortunately, she’s decided to wear her hood down today, and the combination of her bright red lips and bald gray head is downright spooky.
“I’ve a very important lesson for you today.” Miss Thing stalks back and forth before her desk, her red heels click-clacking with each step. “You may have heard terrible rumors about demons.” She laces her long red fingernails under her chin. “I won’t mince words. Some say the demons may one day attack us, their beloved ghoul allies.”
I lean back in my chair, my brows rising. Anti-demon rumors? That’s new. Normally it’s all demon-love, all the time.
Miss Thing sighs. “Demons are poor, misunderstood creatures that are true friends to ghouls. Maybe not so much to quasis.” She taps her chin with her long gray finger. “But since you’re our minions, that means they’re really your friends too!” She glances about the classroom expectantly.
I scan the faces as well. Everyone looks at our teacher with open, accepting stares. My chest tightens with frustration as the word ‘minion’ rattles around my brain. We used to rule ourselves, sistah, and did a damn good job of it too.
Miss Thing gazes at one of the many Oligarchy glamour shots she’s taped to her wall. “Besides, our brave and handsome leaders tell us demons will be our allies forever. And we know the Oligarchy could never lie or make a mistake.” Her eyes flutter as she exhales. “So, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Huh. That was a lot of explaining for something not to worry about.
Miss Thing walks up to the board. Using super-screechy chalk, she starts listing examples of how demons have been trustworthy through the ages. Twenty minutes go by and she’s reached one and a half items.
Zeke shifts his weight; his chair lets out a soft squeak. I turn to him and realize he’s been whispering to me about Cissy this whole time. I smile and pretend I’ve been listening all along.
“It’s been so awesome having Cissy around,” says Zeke. “My parents don’t get a lot of support from the ghouls. Basically, they let us keep our house and that’s it. We have to pay for all the diplomatic events. It adds up.”
“That’s too bad, Zeke. I had no idea.”
“My parents are pretty picky, too. They worry about every little thing. Cissy’s really good about the details, though. Like at dinner, she figured out how to get floral centerpieces that were periwinkle instead of cerulean. Mom was pumped.”
Wow. I have no idea what he just said.
“That’s totally cool, Zeke. I’m happy for you.”
“Anyway, she’s a great girl.” He smiles. “And you’ve done an awesome job adjusting to our relationship. I know it must be hard, seeing us together all the time.” He arches his eyebrow and winks.
Just when you think it’s safe to have a conversation with Zeke Ryder, he turns back into the Lust Monster. My voice drips with a healthy dose of venom. “I’ve adjusted, Zeke. You should too.”
The rest of the day zips by and before I know it, I’m driving my green station wagon over to the Ryder mansion.
Betsy putters up the long curve of the mansion’s driveway. Cissy and Zeke stand outside the front door, their bodies stiff with rage. Both their mouths are set into thin lines. I wave through the closed window. They glare in reply.