Page 64 of The Demons We Hide

Liar.

As if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, her smile returns and this time, it feels more genuine. It reaches her eyes. “Words are important,” she says. “What we say and what we believe. The words that we write and the words that we say affect us.”

You’re so pretty, Juliet. You take such good care of yourself. You like it when people watch you, don’t you? Like it when they see all the things you won’t let them touch, but you’ll let me touch, won’t you?

The foul taste of something acrid and bitter fills my lungs, bites into the back of my throat, and threatens to soak into my tongue. Ms. Beck goes on, unaware that I’m no longer sitting in the room with her even if I can still hear what she says.

“Words are the weapons no one even realizes they’re using,” she continues. “They can cut down a person twice your size or lift you up to make you feel like you’re flying. War is not won necessarily by guns and bombs and soldiers, but by words—by the ability of a good leader to inspire their people. So, no, Juliet, I do not curse.”

She’s right. Words are dangerous weapons. I never realized it until she said it in so many words, but those words are what keeps me up at night.Pretty girl… pretty girl…

Want this.Don’t want this.You want this.

My stomach cramps and my throat tightens. My skin grows hot, the scratch of my clothes too close, too much. The heater kicks on and I nearly jump straight out of my seat at the sound.Why is there so much noise?

“Juliet?” I lift my head at my name and Ms. Beck leans forward across her desk, brow creasing. “Are you alright? You look a bit pale?”

Reaching up, I wipe a hand over my brow. It comes away damp with sweat. “I’m fine.” Another lie. I need a cigarette or maybe some weed. Something that will calm me. Which means that I need to get this counseling session over with. “I’ll try not to curse, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Ms. Beck blinks as if she hadn’t expected that concession from me, but I don’t care. She leans back and then nods. “Well, I appreciate that,” she murmurs. “That’s very mature of you.”

I bob my head, feeling as if each of my limbs are slowly detaching from my main body. My toes tingle, as do my fingertips. I glance at the clock. How long have I been here? Nope. Not even twenty minutes. Lovely.

“There is one more thing I’d like to discuss with you,” Ms. Beck says, shuffling a few papers off to the side of her desk as she turns towards her computer. “I’ve received some correspondence from Mr. Morpheus Calloway. He’s expressed some concerns about your living situation and?—”

“You can’t tell him anything about me,” I snap, cutting her off. “That’s illegal.”

The counselor pauses and stares at me for a moment. “I haven’t released any of your private information, Miss Donovan,” she says, her lips turning down. “But his concerns do strike up some of my own. I understand that your home address when you filed for transfer from Silverwood Prep was the unit of one of the apartments that unfortunately burned down a few weeks ago.”

“Why does that matter?” I shift on my seat, eyes darting back to the clock. I’m not going to make it the full time. I already know.

“I want to make sure that you’re in a place that’s safe.” Ms. Beck’s voice is that calm, soothing pseudo-concerned kind that nurses get when you have a breakdown in a doctor’s office and I hate it. “Morpheus is your uncle?—”

“He’s not!” I can’t stand it anymore. I grit my teeth and glare at her. “Morpheus Calloway was my father’s business partner,” I tell her. “You know that—everyonein fucking Silverwood knows that. He isnotmy uncle.” She gapes at me, but I keep going. “Don’t play this bullshit with me. You hate me too. Just as much as everyone else.”

“Juliet. I don’t hate?—”

I can’t let her finish. “I’m done with this.” I stand up and grab my bag.

“Juliet!” My heart thunders against my ribcage. As I turn towards the door, I hear her chair scrape across the floor and that sharp, too fucking loud, sound is the last straw.

I bolt. Fleeing from the counselor’s office, down the hall, and out of the school building before she can call me back. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going as I run, my backpack slapping against my spine, but I know it needs to be away from here.

26

JULIET

Afew weeks after I officially move back into Nolan’s house and have become exactly what Gio warned me I’d be—a Scorpion Girl—I find myself stationed on the bleachers after school. Huddled in an oversized hoodie that isn’t mine, but one of theirs, I flip through a text book, jotting down notes on the little sticky papers I’ve attached to the inside. Midterms are coming up and from my last grade report, I need to step up my game if I’m going to be accepted into Eastpoint University.

To my utter shock, the Scorpion Kings aren’t all brawn and no brain. In fact, Lex has the best grades out of all the guys and often spends extra time at Nolan’s going over various subjects with both of us.

Now I’m sitting here, freezing my ass off in the cold as they hoof it across the field, back and forth with their coach whistling and yelling at them to keep it up. A metal clang followed by a loud curse has me lifting my head and turning to find Roquel and Mads both hopping up the bleachers as they move towards me.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, shutting my book as the two of them make it to my side. Roquel slumps down and then squeals.

“Fuck! That’s so cold!”

I roll my eyes but reach for my backpack next to my feet and pull out an extra sweater, handing it to her. She takes it gratefully and puts it down before plopping down on top of it. Mads sits on my other side, wincing slightly at the cold but otherwise not nearly as bothered as Roquel.

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