An Evil Mind

“I’d have to fight Kanye,” he laments.

“Eh,” I wave my hand. “Just tell him his sunglasses suck. He’ll keel over and die.”

The guy sniggers. “I’m Kyle Morris. Nice to meet you.”

“Isis,” I say automatically. “Destroyer of Hearts and Dreams. And Any Cakes In A Two-Mile Vicinity.”

“Ravenclaw,” he offers his hand to shake. I grab it with my greasy one.

“Hufflepuff,” I say. He quirks a brow.

“Really? You don’t seem all that nice.”

“Oh,” I point what’s left of my hot dog bun at him. “Just wait until you see my friends. I practically run a charity show.”

“The guy you came in with?” He nods to Jack, who’s currently being exceedingly merciful and letting black bikini girl cling to his arm and jabber at him, and she has a pierced belly button and probably a pierced vagina and her name is Hemorrhoid, by the way. The girls in the hot tub Kyle came from are slowly starting to notice just how good looking Jack is, and they get out in a group, strutting past Jack and diving into the nearby pool with aching sexiness. The boys follow like hungry hounds.

“Yeah, the goober being goobed on,” I say. “He’s my friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“Is that like, some subtle cue slash question I’m supposed to confirm so you know whether or not you’ve got a chance to sleep with me? Because if so it’s very not-subtle and lacking finesse, really, next time maybe try a neon sign taped to your forehead that says LOSER LOOKING TO GET LAID. With the numeral two replacing to, obviously, to save time, because that seems to be all guys really care about – getting laid as fast as possible.”

Kyle takes it in stride, looking mock-wounded. “Hey, at least I’m being honest.”

I roll my eyes and wander over to the pool, trying my darndest and failing my darndest to not glance at the way black-bikini is grinding her hip into Jack’s as she leans on him. Charlie’s off in the deep end of the pool with a bunch of girls, even his grin somehow grumpy as they splash him. Last time I checked, spying involved a lot more grappling guns and poison dart pens and a lot less giggling. I stand at the edge of the pool and watch the moon reflecting on the water in a wiggly silver medallion. Kyle stands beside me.

“So, what’s your major?”

“I’m a freshmen. Undecided. Nuclear Thermophysics. Culinary Arts. Depends on how I feel when I wake up that day.” I hold two hands out and balance them like scales. “Destroy the world, or make a cake to celebrate destroying the world. The choice is so gosh darn difficult.”

Kyle laughs. “God, you’re cool.”

“It’s been said,” I agree. “Screamed, really. By my enemies. Just before I decapitate them.”

Suddenly there’s a sharp pressure on my ass, a squeeze. I jump, my squeal entirely ugly and entirely necessary as I look to Kyle, horrified. My first grope ever. He smirks and shrugs. I ball my fist into two bigger fists, but I never get the chance to throw them. Kyle goes flying, splashing into the pool with an embarrassing flailing motion. Jack stands at the place he used to be, expression cool.

“Oops,” He drones. Hemorrhoid laughs, and the other girls starts laughing, and so when Kyle comes up sputtering he has no choice but to laugh nervously with the rest of them.

“Haha, nice one bro!”

Jack quirks a disdainful brow at him. Charlie comes wading over and gets out, pulling Jack aside. Charlie’s words are rapid and low and hissy, and Jack’s are monotone. Hemorrhoid stands with me, sighing.

“He’s so dreamy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “ - if we are in opposite world, and dreams are actually nightmares.”

She ignores me and latches back on to Jack the second he separates from Charlie, steering him towards the pool. Jack goes along with it, grimace obvious. Why is he doing it if he doesn’t like it?

“You,” A voice hisses in my ear. I turn to see Charlie, anger etching his mouth.

“Me,” I say. “Now that the introductions are over, we can finally move on to tea.”

“You’re distracting him,” Charlie says. “You’re a goddamn distraction he doesn’t need right now.”

“Exqueeze me?”

“You heard me,” Charlie insists. “You see that red-head in the bikini? That’s an important source of info we need on our side. Jack’s gonna wind her around his pinkie, and he would’ve already, but you’re here, and for some f*cking reason he likes your dumb ass and is putting it off.”

“You’re mistaken. We hate each other. Platonically.”

“You’re cockblocking him,” Charlie snarls. “Now get the f*ck out of here, before I throw you out myself.”

“My, are you always this polite with the ladies, or am I the exception? Or perhaps it’s the dudes you reserve your politeness for? Understandable. Dude-asses are polite-worthy as hell.”

“Get. Out.”

Over his tanned shoulder, I see Hemorrhoid lean in and graze Jack’s cheek with her lips. Jack doesn’t recoil, taking it like a frozen statue, inclining his head only slightly in response. I get the message. I always get the message, because I’m Isis Blake and I’m last choice for teams in gym, always, and whatever we had has been swallowed up by the void of Sophia, by the pain, by the ice-cold shield against it all he calls ‘work’. The little ball-light of hope I held in the darkness flickers, weakening irrevocably.

“I was already leaving,” I say. Charlie watches me the whole way to the garage. My fury is the dull, aching kind, lingering even as I park and trudge up the stairs into the dorms. Yvette is, mercifully, not there. Her text from four hours ago reads; ‘staying at a friend’s, don’t worry’. Another booty call, maybe. I don’t care. It’s her life, and as long as she’s safe and happy, I’m fine with it. I’m curious, but the throbbing hurt from the night beats louder against my skull as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, hot moisture clouding my eyes.

I can’t sleep. Not until I say something. I grab my phone and text.

‘Do you know how many times you’ve made me f*cking cry?’

His answer comes later, much later. It wakes me in two hours. I imagine him in her bed, sitting over the side of it, naked and with her naked and sleeping opposite him. I imagine his tousled hair, his lean muscles, his blue eyes made silver by the moonlight.

‘Too many.’ He says. Thirty minutes pass, and then; ‘Find someone who doesn’t make you cry. Find someone better.’

***

‘Do you know how many times you’ve made me f*cking cry?’

I stare at the text, the sickly electronic light boring into my eyes like spears. Spears of guilt. Spears of regret. I shouldn’t be here, and what’s left of my heart knows that the second I read the words. I should be there, with her. I should be a normal college student, not playing at one while trying to catch a criminal.

Not f*cking the criminal’s girlfriend so she’ll give me dirt on them.

It had been boring and routine, the steps ingrained in me from my time at the Rose Club. I’d added every trick I could to satisfy her – satiate her so fully she’d be crawling on her knees for more in the morning, and next week, and the week after that. Her mouth is the only useful part of her – spilling the secrets of Kyle, and consequently, his partner Will.