“Like Jimmy. Jimmy wasn’t himself. You saw … you saw his eyes. They were black. Pure black. And he was saying all these creepy things about the seed—”
“They were both high as kites.” Tyler raises a brow.
“The thing is, no one would even blame you if you told him to do it.” Ben rubs the back of his neck. “What happened with your sister … what Jimmy did was way out of line.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, completely exasperated. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell us,” Tyler says. “Tell us how it is.”
Ali steps toward me. “Please … help us understand. Because we’re trying.”
“You’re trying? Trying to what?”
“We’re trying to protect you, Clay. But we have to know the truth.”
“The truth?” I say with a hysterical chuckle. “You want to talk truth? Okay … then tell me about the marks … the brand. I know you all have one. And I know what it means.”
“What, this piece of crap?” Ben laughs as he pulls up the leg of his Wranglers. “When we all stepped up to the council, we thought we’d get tattoos, for the Preservation Society—”
“But Ali’s afraid of needles.” Tammy rolls her eyes.
“So we figured a brand might be good,” Ben continues. “If it’s good enough for the OU football team, it should be good enough for us.” Ben gives the upside-down hook-’em-horns sign.
“Tyler used a coat hanger,” Ali explains. “Bent it up to make it look like the Preservation Society symbol, you know … the bull with the two horns and hoofs.”
“But we got wasted.” Ben laughs. “Mr. Miller’s rye is no fucking joke.”
“I don’t care what you guys say.” Tyler rolls up his sleeve to show me. “I still think it’s cool. It looks tribal or something.”
“It looks like a demented smiley face, or frowny face, depending on how you look at it,” Tammy says under her breath.
“I heard that, Tammy,” Tyler snaps, but then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Fine. Maybe it wasn’t my best idea.”
Ali smooths her hair down. “I’m just glad I had enough sense to put it somewhere I could cover it up. But do you guys remember Ben that night?” She tries to stifle a grin. “Ben wanted it in the middle of his forehead. Can you imagine?”
They all start cracking up at the memory and I can see it in their faces—they’re telling the truth, or what they believe is the truth. I mean, who knows what really happened … they all just admitted they were wasted. Maybe they don’t know what’s really happening to them.
“Hey, Tate,” Ben says as he dries his eyes. “I’m just curious. What’d you think it meant?”
I could make something up, laugh it off, but this could be my shot. Tyler’s always been so easy to read. If they’ve been marked for the Devil, and they know about it, maybe I’ll be able to tell.
“The mark,” I say as I drag my heel in the dirt making an upside-down U with two dots above and below. “It looks really similar to this ancient symbol called the Devil’s Portal.”
“The Devil, huh?” Tyler smirks, but there’s something in his eyes, an intensity, that doesn’t match his casual appearance. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been spending a little too much time with Miss Granger.”
“Miss Granger?” I narrow my eyes. I can tell by the way he’s leaning against his car, the careful way he’s holding his body, that he’s trying to sell me something, but what? I decide to take the bait. “And what would that have to do with Miss Granger?”
“You don’t know about her?” Ali pulls on her fleece jacket, rubbing her arms.
“Seriously, Clay?” Tammy rolls her eyes. “I know you’re a football player, but do you have to be such a cliché? You think we just happened to get an Ivy League counselor … in Midland? Please.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ben shakes his head. “She’s been spoutin’ off that Devil shit for years.”
“Years? But she just moved here last year.”
“Or just got out,” Tammy murmurs.
“Out? Out of where? College?”
“Oakmoor,” they answer in unison.
“What? That’s impossible.” I whisper, but there’s something about it that registers on the back of my neck, something about it that rings true. I remember that look in her eyes when she told me not to tell anyone about this or they’d send me to Oakmoor, like she knew firsthand what that was like. “I thought she was just a volunteer over there.”
“Checked herself in two years ago, right after Harvard,” Tyler says as he looks at himself in the side mirror and then pops it back in place. “But I’d still do her.”
Tammy and Ali smack him at the same time. “What?” He laughs. “She’s hot.”
“How do you know all this?” I ask.
“We overheard the council talking about it last year, debating whether they were going to take her on … give her a chance at rehabilitation.”
“That’s why all of us have had to go to counseling this year,” Tammy says.