White Hot Kiss

When the bell rang, I already had my stuff packed, ready to make a clean exit. I needed air—preferably air that Roth wasn’t sharing. Surprisingly enough, he was already out the door by the time I stood, walking so fast he appeared to be on some sort of mission. Maybe Hell had called him back home? I could only hope.

“What is your problem?” asked Stacey.

I brushed past her, scooping long strands of hair out from underneath my bag’s strap. “What? I have a problem because I’m not in heat?”

She made a face. “Well, that just sounds gross.”

“You’re gross,” I threw over my shoulder.

Stacey caught up with me. “Honestly, you have to explain to me what your problem is with him. I don’t get it. Did he ask you to be his baby mama?”

“What?” I made a face. “I already told you. He’s just bad news.”

“My favorite kind of news,” she said as we filed out of the door, “is bad-news boys.”

I gripped my bag tighter as a sea of pink and blue souls filled the hallway. A banner hung down, interrupting the flow of the pastel rainbow. “Since when did you start liking bad boys? All your past boyfriends qualified for sainthood.”

“Since yesterday,” she quipped.

“Well, that’s really...” I stopped by the row of lockers, wrinkling my nose. “Do you smell that?”

Stacey sniffed the air, then immediately groaned. “God, it smells like raw sewage. Probably the damn bathroom’s backed up.”

Other students were starting to pick up on the scent of rotten eggs and soured meat. There were giggles, a few gags. Apprehension stirred in my chest. The smell was foul—too foul—and I couldn’t believe it was only now that I was smelling it.

I was going to blame Roth for that, too.

“You’d think they’d cancel classes with a smell like that.” Stacey started to tug her shirt up as a shield, but must’ve realized there wasn’t enough material there. She clamped her hand over her mouth, muffling her voice. “This cannot be safe.”

A teacher stood outside his class, waving his hand in front of his face. My eyes burned as I turned away from him, trailing behind Stacey. In the stairwell, the smell was stronger.

Stacey glanced at me on the landing. “See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” I replied, stepping out of the way of several taller and bigger seniors. I looked like a freshman standing in their way.

She tugged on the hem of her skirt again with her free hand. “Hopefully the smell is gone by then. If not, I’m starting a protest.”

Before I could respond, she was bounding up the stairs. I headed down the steps to the first floor, trying not to gag.

“What the Hell is that smell?” asked a petite girl with a lilac-colored soul. Her hair was blond and pixie short.

“I don’t know,” I murmured absently. “Our lunch?”

The girl laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” Then she frowned, squinting at me. “Hey. Aren’t you the girl who lives with the Wardens?”

I sighed, wishing the mass of bodies on the steps in front of me would move faster. “Yes.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Eva Hasher said you and the old black dude who’s always picking you up from school are their human servants.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

She nodded vigorously. “That’s what Eva told me in history class.”

“I’m not a servant and neither is Morris,” I exclaimed. “I’m adopted. And Morris is part of the family. Big difference.”

“Whatever,” she said, pushing around me.

A servant? As if. A darker pink soul with stripes of red crept into my vision—Gareth Richmond. The boy who maybe stared at my butt.

“This place reeks.” He held his notebook over his mouth. “You know the gym is going to smell even worse. Think they’ll cancel class, Layla?”

Huh, he did know my name.

He lowered his notebook, revealing a megawatt smile. The kind I imagined he used on many girls. “They can’t expect us to run laps breathing this crap. You’re a pretty good runner, by the way. Why didn’t you ever go out for track or something?”

“You...watch me run in class?” I wanted to smack myself after saying that. It sounded like I’d accused him of being a creeper. “I mean, I didn’t know you paid attention. Not that you’d pay attention. I just didn’t know you knew I could run.”

He glanced down the stairs, laughing.

I needed to shut up.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you run.” Gareth caught the door before it smacked into us, holding it open. “I’ve seen you walk, too.”

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or flirting. Or if he just thought I was an idiot. Honestly, I didn’t care because all I could think of was Stacey suggesting I hook up with Gareth to start a war with Eva. Talk about awkward thoughts.

“So what are you doing after school?” he asked, falling into step beside me.

Tagging demons. “Um...I’ve got some errands I have to take care of.”

“Oh.” He tapped his notebook off his thigh. “I’ve got football practice after class. I’ve never seen you at any of the games.”

I looked at the empty trophy case by the double doors leading to the gym. “Football isn’t really my thing.”

“That’s a bust. I always throw a party at my parents’ house after the games. You’d know that if—”

Someone tall, wearing all black, materialized between us. “She’d know that if she cared, but I doubt she does.”

I stepped back quickly, startled by Roth’s sudden reappearance.

Gareth had the same response. He was a tall boy, big and brawny, but Roth exuded a kick-ass air. The human boy clamped his mouth shut. Without another word, he inched around us and hurried into the gym, the doors swinging shut behind him. I stood there, dumbfounded as the first warning bell rang. It sounded far away.

“Was it something I said?” Roth mused. “I was just pointing out the obvious.”

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him.

“What?” He grinned impishly. “Come on. You don’t look like the type of girl who watches football, hangs out with the cool crowd and ends up deflowered by the senior jock in the back of his daddy’s Beamer.”

“Deflowered?”