Page 118 of Satan's Spawn
Blinking away thoughts of Crayton I clear my throat. “Sorry, what’d you say?”
“I said…it must’ve been you, silly.”
I chuckle, trying my best to hide my disgust as I lay back on the bed. I reach for the blanket again and bring it up to my chin, staring at the ceiling for the second time as I say, “Yeah, you’re right, Hen. It must’ve been me.”
22
BEX
FALL
One week.
It’s been one whole week since the—almost—kiss with Crayton.
And I haven’t seen him since.
In fact, nobody has seen him.
Later that night, regardless of my embarrassment, I went storming into the bathroom, ready to demand an explanation for the bruise on my neck, but found Saint waiting for me once again.
Same as the next morning.
And the morning after that.
I received strict instructions from Saint on Crayton’s behalf: that he’s the one to give me the meds each day, and I was to keep collecting all of Crayton’s work from his teachers, complete it then drop it to Saint every night in order to receive my evening dose of medicine. Effectively continuing this ridiculous arrangement between his best friend and I in his absence. Other than those fine details, it’s the most I’ve heard from Crayton.
And not a peep from the school.
No teachers, no Mr. Beaumont, not even Beckett has had much to say about Crayton’s absence while I was collecting his weekly classwork.
It’s as if his vanishing act is nothing new to them.
It’s new to me, though.
And it angers me even more being denied the answers I need.
“Mornin,’ gorgeous.” Saint smiles as he opens the door to his room, squeezing his way out into the hall and closing the door behind him, as usual. “Sleep well?”
Accepting another day of defeat on trying to sneak a peek into the room he shares with Crayton, I fake a smile. “Splendid.”
Saint hands me a pill and a bottle of Smartwater, a routine we developed since he’s taken over this hostage situation.
“Ready to go?” He asks, regarding another routine we’ve started since Crayton has gone AWOL.
Egg sandwiches and coffee in the morning from this fantastic bagel store everyone goes to.
“Yep, got the full order from the troops.” I hold out my phone, which has a lengthy description of what both Hendrix and Archer want for breakfast.
They may not like Saint, but they sure do like this bagel place enough to have him fetch them food from it.
“Will there ever be a day your sassy little friend decides to take the ride?”
“Doubtful.” I shrug. “She really doesn’t like you.”
“Everybody likes me.” Saint grins as we start moving. “It just takes some people longer to realize it.”
The journey to the bagel store took a lot longer than expected, the trip costing us fifteen minutes into first period due to rush hour traffic. I’m running like a chicken without a head into the building, holding several coffees and bags of sandwiches as Saint leisurely strolls behind me.
