The door flew open. “Is there some way I can be of service to you?” Tarkenton asked.
Arriane carefully set Tarkenton’s paperweight hog back on his desk. She patted its head. “This is a real nice pig. I’ll give you a quarter for him.”
“GET OUT OF MY CHAIR!” Tarkenton thundered at Cam. He turned to Arriane and Roland. “Who are you delinquents?”
“We’re fallen angels,” Roland said.
“Don’t insult my religion!” Tarkenton commanded, his face twisted. “I could have you arrested for breaking and entering. And you, Mr. Briel, you’re suspended for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. Leave campus before I have you removed.”
“Please don’t suspend me, sir,” Cam said. “I need to be here.”
Roland squinted at Cam. “Are you kidding me, dude? You care?”
Cam cared. The days were long and lonesome when the girl you loved was in school and you were not. His bet with Lucifer ended in four days. If he was going to free Lilith from this hell, he needed every moment he could get with her.
Three Days
At lunch the next day, Lilith, Jean, and Luis met in the band room.
It was finally free, since the Perceived Slights were all busy at a prom court meeting. Lilith had walked by their table in the center of the cafeteria after grabbing a sandwich and had noticed the empty seat where Cam was supposed to sit. He hadn’t been in homeroom or poetry that morning either, and Lilith was trying not to wonder why.
“Hey, Luis.” She mustered a smile for the drummer in his blue tank top and fingerless leather gloves.
“Hola,” Luis said, playing a tight drumroll. He was getting better. He was almost good.
“That sounded fly,” Lilith said.
Luis grinned. “Fly’s my middle name.”
The battle was three nights away. They were down one guitar player—again—and far from having their act together, but Lilith was determined not to give up. She would figure out a way to pull this performance off.
“I take it we’re not waiting for Cam?” Jean asked, giving her a sympathetic look. He had taken off the top of the Moog synthesizer and was tightening the screws inside.
“Nope.” Lilith sighed. “Just us.”
She was rusty and exhausted. She’d been nauseated since yesterday when she’d boarded the bus and felt every kid’s eyes on her. At first, she’d been stupid enough to think that people were suddenly noticing her because they’d heard she’d won the lyrics contest. But not one person said anything to Lilith about the Four Horsemen playing her song at prom.
Instead, Cam’s horrible news eclipsed Lilith’s good news entirely. By now the whole school had become a buzzing hive of students spreading the same ugly story: The last girl Cam had dated, a girl who’d been in love with him, had killed herself when they broke up.
Lilith knew Cam had known other girls. But this latest story…
Suicide.
“It sucks,” Jean said. “I mean, Revenge will be great, but without Cam…”
Lilith knew what he was thinking. Cam was a great musician. He was charismatic onstage. He brought a needed edge to the band. Revenge would be lesser without him.
Plus, he really wanted to be in the band. She knew that because he’d called her home phone seven times the night before.
“Don’t answer it—” she’d said to Bruce a second too late.
“Hello?” Bruce had said, then held out the phone to Lilith, mouthing, “It’s Cam.”
Lilith had quickly scribbled a note and held it out to Bruce.
“Sorry, Cam,” Bruce said. “She says you have the wrong number.”
Lilith had mouthed for Bruce to hang up the phone quickly and groaned once he did. “Thanks.”
“Why don’t you want to talk to Cam?” Bruce asked. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Lilith told her brother. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
“But I like him,” Bruce said.
Lilith frowned. “I know. Just don’t pick up the phone again.”
It was possible Cam had called more than seven times, but seven had been her mom’s limit. After that, she’d disconnected the phone. And in the silence that followed, Lilith’s heart began to ache. She hadn’t meant to let him get close enough to hurt her, but here she was, hurt and bewildered and longing for him to make things right.
She would have to go back to looking out for herself, expecting nothing from anyone, guarding herself against pain.
Now Jean put down his screwdriver, rubbed his jaw, and studied Lilith. “You don’t mean you believe those rumors? Cam’s a good guy. You know he is.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lilith sat down against the wall between two giant xylophones. She took out her notebook and riffled through the pages.
“What are you doing?” Jean asked.
“Making an edit to the chorus of ‘Somebody’s Other Blues’ before we practice,” Lilith said.
“Wait, does that mean we’re not breaking up?” Luis let out an audible sigh of relief.