Page 7 of The Devil

“Maybe,” he replies after keeping me hanging for a few beats of silence. What would you do if it did?”

He watches me intently but with a casual attitude written all over his body language, then takes another drag on his blunt.

“I’d smile,” I tell him, so I do.

He laughs softly before dropping his blunt to the floor and stamping it out with his foot.

“Bad news, my topolina,” he begins, “I’m having people over on Friday and I’d better not see you there; you wouldn’t set the right vibe for all the dry humping and fucking.”

“Oh, really?” I pout for theatrical purposes. “You not wanting me there is gonna keep me up all night in anguish. Mind you, I do still have a copy of the tour guide I went on today, so I’m sure that will keep me just as entertained as your little party.”

Lucius quirks his lips at me for a while before leaning in close, so close I think he’s going to touch me or something else as equally abhorrent. It makes me nervous, and I suddenly become aware of how hard I’m having to work to keep my breath steady and even. As he moves in closer, I lean back on the spot to try and avoid contact. My heart beats loudly between my ears as he lifts his hand and reaches toward my hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp, sounding strangely pitched.

With his smirk still in place, he pulls his hand back to reveal a single green leaf that had been nestled in amongst my straggly loose tendrils. I swallow down my pride as he places it inside my hand, before eventually turning to leave. As he walks away, I feel half relieved, but also half annoyed that he had the last word in our little exchange.

Chapter 5

Helena

In the last few days, I have kept myself busy in the garden with Owen, the gardener. In doing so, I’ve managed to avoid Lucius and having to hang out with Meri’s irritating friends. I did the latter on the Wednesday just gone and it was an experience I decided I never wanted to repeat. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to be inside of a teenage chick flick, that was it; all drama and squealing over Scarlet’s recent breakup with David. Even I found myself feeling sympathetic for the poor guy. To have put up with her narcissistic whining and gaslighting for as long as he did, the sad sap must need a good week or so on an exotic island just to re-cooperate and perhaps reassess his taste in women.

The story goes he found Scarlet kissing his best friend at one of their social gatherings. Her excuse for cheating was she had heard a rumor that he was cheating on her. She didn’t want to look like the party who would be cheated on, so she convinced his best friend to kiss her. His friend’s excuse was less dramatic – she’s a good-looking girl who wanted him to kiss her. Who was he to say no?

David caught them, an argument ensued with accusation after accusation that I eventually lost track of, until he finally declared he never wanted to see either of them ever again. Her friends feigned sympathy, but then gossiped and bitched about her like crazy whenever she left the room, including Meri. Once I had managed to collect myself over Scarlet trying to convince all who would listen that she was the injured party and that somehow, David was the villain of the story, I tried to remain impartial. They weren’t my friends and although I shouldn’t judge others, I obviously do.

Lucius hasn’t been seen around the house since I had him following me around like I was his pet poodle, waiting for me to poop so he could go back inside. I’m relieved for his absence seeing as he seems to make me feel even more awkward than I normally do. He challenges me in such a way I cannot ignore him; he forces me out of myself. Not many people outside of my family do that with me, especially not boys who look the way he does. It's intimidating and sets my heart to racing, though I can’t work out if it’s in a good way or an epically bad way. Dad would advise me to keep away at all costs and to not engage with a boy like him. If I am to think about a boy in that way, then I should stick to nice guys who will treat me the way he treats my mother. In other words, someone who will love me unconditionally and without any risk. And he’s right…isn’t he?

Boys aside, it is now the day after my glimpse into all things teenage and girly, and I’ve decided to stay well clear of them. I’m currently hiding out in the cooling shade of the garden. It’s incredibly hot and I already have a sheen of sweat clinging to my body and it’s only mid-morning. It looks attractive on Owen, but just plain gross on me, much like if I wore Meri’s makeup, I would end up looking like a clown. Life has deemed me to only be comfortable in my own skin and seeing as I am more than content to hide in the shadows, I don’t mind that at all.

Owen comes sauntering up to where I’m crouched before a bed of newly upturned soil and offers me a cold drink of something, which I’ll take whether I like it or not. I’m parched and in danger of setting off one of my migraines, an affliction I’ve been prone to ever since I hit puberty. I smile with genuine thanks for the offering at the same time as he crouches down beside me. It would seem we’re going to have a break together, something I’m not used to unless it’s with Mom or Dad. I watch him pick up a poor, unsuspecting worm and throw it over the back to stop my trowel from cutting it in half. It makes me smile, for I feel a kinship with him; I’m forever rescuing snails, bees, and other creepy crawlies from coming to a tragic end beneath somebody’s boot.

“So, how’s your stay going?” he asks without looking at me, for he’s too busy filtering through the soil for other bugs, stones, and weeds. “Feel like one of the natives yet?”

“Not really,” I reply with a happy-go-lucky shrug of my shoulders. I’m used to being the outsider. “I haven’t even seen Aunt Jen yet, or Paul for that matter. Do they even live here?”

Owen chuckles gently at my side as he straightens up and tilts his face toward the sun. His skin is weathered, looking as though he’s never worn suncream in his life, but it only makes him look all the more rugged and manly.

“As far as I know, but they’ve not long been married and I guess the privacy of Paul’s apartment in the city is rather appealing at the moment, if you know what I mean.”

“I think the worms know what you mean, Owen,” I reply with a theatrical shiver, to which he looks at me and laughs heartily. “Can’t say I want to picture anyone doing what you mean, let alone my aunt.”

“It’s the most natural thing in the world you know,” he says as he goes back to rooting for minibeasts that he can save. “Wouldn’t be here without it.”

“You could say the same thing about childbirth,” I retort as I look out over the sunny lawn to where a guy of about Lucius’ age is sauntering toward us with a casual walk that says he’s been here before. “Can’t say I want to see that either. Who’s that?”

I point to the guy who is getting ever closer to us, grinning from ear to ear as we come into focus. Owen pauses in his mission to rescue worms so he can follow my line of sight. The man offers him a smile and a momentary wave of his hand. He looks the antithesis of Lucius, so much so, I wonder if they are friends; he appears much too affable for Lucius’ tastes. Owen returns the welcoming gesture, then gets to his feet again. By the time the guy reaches us, I’m feeling a little inadequate on the ground, particularly with these two incredibly tall men looking down on top of my head. I make to stand, rather ungraciously, but still come up short next to them.

“Hey, Eric, Lucius isn’t here at the moment, think he went to meet Paul in town,” Owen says to the guy who nods in an ‘oh well’ kind of way. His eyes then dart to me, looking me up and down in my gardening gear and dirty skin.

Returning his attention to Owen, I think he expects some sort of introduction, but when one doesn’t come, he holds his hand out for mine. Not wanting to appear rude, I take his hand and shake it. His grip is firm but warm and he’s all smiles and politeness when he looks at me.

“It would seem Owen, here,” he nods his head over to the gardener who is smirking to himself, “has forgotten his manners. I’m Eric, a friend of Lucius from back when we were in high school.”

“I’m Helena, Meri’s cousin,” I answer quietly, still shaking his hand rather uncomfortably. He smiles with acknowledgment and then breaks our contact. I immediately pull my hands into my back pockets and smile tightly. I know I’m already blushing, it’s a curse of mine, to be embarrassed by every single man I come across. I think Owen’s gotten used to it now, but this guy sees my crimson cheeks and appears to look a little smug about it.

“Just got back from college in New York, I was hoping to catch up with the asshole,” he explains as he looks around and takes in the gardening that Owen and I are doing. “Mind if I hang out here till he gets back?”

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