Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5) (41 page)

For a minute, I envision myself strapped and secured to the four posts of my bed with Gage at the helm, wielding a whip. An entire torrent of fire explodes inside me and I sway on my heels.

“Skyla?” Giselle holds the bag up and the zipper speeds down as if it were possessed.

An entire barrage of leather leashes and spikes and everything not holy and definitely not nice, rains down over us.

“What is this?” Mom holds up a collar with a three-way chain dangling from it.

“Holy Hannah mother of God!” Tad snaps the lead from Mom before the baby can use it as a teether. “Here’s your reward, Lizbeth, for encouraging her to make her senior year memorable.” He turns to Gage and me. “Congratulations on your license to practice depravity. I’m betting Skyla here will be testing positive in her B-A-B-Y exam very soon.” He holds up a manacle as hardcore evidence. “This is a very bad influence on your sisters.”

Like I’d let them watch.

“Oh.” Giselle inverts the pink tote of defilement. “It isn’t even your bag. It belongs to a Dr. Isis Edinger.”

“Izzy?” Tad secures the collar to his chest in her defense.

“Didn’t she mention she dropped off a bag for us?” Mom covers her lips in horror. “Is this what she meant by innovative material to put the spark back in our marriage?” 

“Sweet babe in a manger!” Tad’s eyes pop from their frame. He bends over and starts snapping up the deviant devices like they were manna from heaven.

“Come on,” I say, walking out the door. “I think a bag of bad influence just vomited all over the floor.”

Gage slips his arm around me.

I’ll let you be a bad influence on me anytime
. He dips into my neck and inhales the scent from my hair.

I reach up and gently bite his earlobe.

“I already am.”     

***

We hightail it to West for our first day back on the field. Giselle begged to come with us before we “fed her to the Kraggers” so she could explore the campus. I’m not sure if Giselle fully grasped that line when she said it, but I like how quick she’s catching on. Although, knowing the Kraggers the way I do, feasting on flesh is not beneath them. 

The sky above may have hinted at sunlight this morning, but it quickly reverted to the mainstay weather pattern on the island, casting a blue-grey film over the landscape with fog proliferating around us like a clap of flour.

“It feels like we just left.” Brielle laments as we head onto the thick lush grass just shy of the football field. “Summer just flew by.”

It’s unbearably muggy out. I remember a day like this last year when I arrived on the island. It was the afternoon Gage told me we would marry someday and I didn’t believe him or his impossibilities. And now, everything I once thought made no sense, takes on more clarity than the simpler things that I once knew. Gage and his prediction seem as logical as breathing, but then so do the visions I’ve had of walking down the aisle with Logan, and, of course, I can’t forget the fact my uterus will one day sponsor an entire race of hybrid Sector-Celestra babies. If Marshall has his way, I’ll busy myself into the next millennium creating a whole new species of celestial beings. For a second I envision myself—my hair in rollers and my robe open in the front with long flesh-colored socks where my boobs once perked with pride. On second thought, every single one of those visions makes absolutely zero sense.

Logan jogs over with his girth as wide as a building. He looks regal in his practice uniform with Cerberus barking out his silent approval from over his shoulder. He plucks off his helmet and reveals beads of sweat in the shape of half-moons under his eyes.

“Hey, handsome.” It comes out low, spontaneous, and inspires Logan to slide his arm around my waist and offer a sideways hug.

“You see the schedule?” His features darken.

“Did Gage hack into the mainframe again?” Not that I’d mind. Spending my junior year with Gage was bliss. He was a comfort to have around—but still, Logan would be, too. “Do we have any classes together?”

“Four,” he mouths, breaking out into a killer grin. “Trig, English, government and we definitely have chemistry.” He smears it with a smoldering look.

“Of course we do.” I bat my lashes.

“Unfortunately, a few other people have it, too.” He casts a quick glance onto the field. I see Gage’s jersey, number forty-four, jogging out and getting into position to catch the ball.

“You, me, and Gage, huh?” Senior year will be interesting, that’s for sure.

Giselle comes up after several minutes of exploration.

“That three-headed dog nearly frightened the spirit out of me.” She presses into Logan with a heartfelt hug. “So, do you think I can cheer?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Brielle pops up and answers before Logan can say anything. She’s still leery of “Emerson Kragger” buddying up to me so quickly. I don’t dare tell her the truth about Giselle. The fewer people that know, the longer Chloe will be under my thumb.

A whistle blows from across the field and the coach waves the team over.

“Tonight’s the bonfire,” Logan says, walking backward. “I’m in charge of pizza. You like extra anchovies on yours, right, Skyla?” He gives a wink, and a quick bite of heat rips through my stomach.

We watch as Logan shrinks onto the field. Gage pauses to wave in the background. Here we are, senior year, with Logan and Gage by my side. In months, it will all be over. It hasn’t even begun and already it feels as if it’s swimming by way too fast.

“Listen up,” Chloe barks. Ms. Richards stands next to her going over her roster, looking decidedly like Ezrina in the process.

Em, Nat, Michelle, and Lexy have their permanent scowls stamped across their faces. It’s all staring to feel familiar again—Brielle is right. It’s like we never left.

“First game is in two weeks,” Chloe shouts as if we were standing an entire planet away. “We have a new teammate.” She holds a hand out toward Giselle. “And I want everyone here to make her feel welcome. We’re a team and it’s about damn time we started acting like one.”

Giselle and I exchange looks. Clearly, whatever dirt Emerson had on Chloe has garnered us the Holy Grail of blackmail. I’d be remiss to let this precious piece of defamation slip on by. I’ll have to figure out a way to extract that knowledge from Emerson’s once-defunct brain. I’ll ice pick my way into her grey matter if I have to.

We run through a few quick routines with Giselle struggling to keep up.

“I promise I’ll teach you everything,” I pant as we take a quick break.

The entire lot of us, collapse in a circle on the lawn.

Lexy and Michelle use one another as a backrest, grumbling over how sore they are from a few short cheers. Chloe lands next to Giselle and extends her long tan legs until the tip of her feet hit Emily’s sickly pale flesh. 

“This is our last year, guys.” Brielle stretches the words out slow. “We’ll never have summer cheer again. We’re going to be so lost after this.”

“Get over it.” Em is the first to console her. “You’ll probably have another mutant swimming in your gut by spring. You might even end up on one of those ‘who’s the daddy shows, or you can be America’s next favorite knocked-up teen. You can move to Hollyweird and we’ll all say we knew you before your hormones kicked in.”

“I’ll never leave,” Chloe sings. “There’s magic here. It’s home. Sometimes I think that not even death could keep me away from Paragon.”

I cut Giselle a quick look and avert my eyes over to the field.

“Remember Mr. Mendelson?” Brielle asks as if he were a huge road bump in their scholastic career.

The bitch squad bursts out laughing, their cackles spear into the sky with an adolescent ecstasy.

“He was our P.E. teacher in ninth grade,” Brielle informs.

“Yeah,” Nat adds, “he pulled double duty as our sex ed instructor.”

More explosive laughter ensues.

Brielle tucks the tip of her pinkies into her eyes to stop the tears. “He would wear these short-shorts and jog around the field with no underwear. I swear it was like a daily challenge to be the first one to spot his hairy balls.”

Eww. I offer an uncomfortable smile to Giselle. I’m not sure if she’s up to speed on either sex ed or hairy balls in general. We could be talking serious tabula rasa here. 

“Things have really changed this year.” Nat’s features take a turn for the serious. “Kate is gone.” She plucks at an auburn curl, tight as a spring and lets go. “I’m not with Pierce anymore.” She says it slow like she’s stoned—her face immovable without emotion. She glances up at Giselle. “So you’re really coming to West?”

“That’s right.” Giselle hones her newfound ability to sound like she hates everything. “And I’m going to stay—even you try to hack my head off in the middle of the night.”

Michelle’s face pinches.

Oops. Probably should have clued Giselle in on the fact I may have been guilty of that offense myself on at least a couple of occasions.

Lexy smears a grin across her face. “I think we should get to know you better. You know, initiate you into cheer.”

I smell an accidental homicide, by way of hazing.

“We’ll throw you a party,” Chloe offers. “Just the people from West so you can get to know everyone.” She eyes Giselle with malicious intent. Chloe is the cat and Emerson is the mouse she plans on eating for dinner. I’ve learned the hard way that any party of Chloe’s ends in broken hearts and tragedy—with vomit and Fems parading around as mythological creatures. 

“I don’t need a party,” Giselle hisses. “You can get to know me here. Ask me anything you want. I love to share. I’m very generous with what I know.”

“I’m sure.” Chloe incites a challenge with her eyes. It spells out
I’ll kill you all over again.

A whistle goes off and Ms. Richards calls us into position.

We get up and dust the loose blades off our legs.

Chloe walks by Giselle and knocks into her shoulder, hard like a threat.

Whatever it is that Emerson knew is still lurking in that brain of hers. All we need is for Giselle to tap into it and let the corrosive knowledge flow like a fountain.

Senior year—the first thing that’s going down is Chloe.

Chapter 107

Light My Fire   

That evening, in keeping with tradition, Natalie Coleman has opened the beachfront property of her parent’s estate and is hosting an end-of-summer bonfire that spans both East and West.

The bonfire blazes up to heaven. It cuts through the mist with its tower of auburn flames. At least five smaller fires burn around it like a wreath. They send their metallic embers effortlessly into the night sky, appearing and disappearing like a series of flickering illusions.

I find Ellis over by the smallest one, alone, nestled in the sand. The hood of his sweatshirt is pulled low over his face and he looks a little too morose for his usual happy-go-lucky, suck-the-life-out-of-you self.

“Hey, you.” I lie down beside him and use his thigh as a pillow. Every muscle in my body is sorry I ever signed up for cheer.

“Where are the gladiators?” He mumbles.

“The who?” I glance up and notice his bottom lip is severely swollen and split on one side.

“That’s right,” he says, patting his injury. “Your boyfriends kicked some ass.”

“Sorry.” I bite down a smile. “I never asked them to do that. I swear.”

“I know.” A plume of fog escapes his nostrils. “Are you mad at me?”

“Surprisingly no.” The smoky mist opens up overhead and I see the stars in all their splendor. “New Moon’s tomorrow night.” I dig my feet into the cool sand. “So what’s the verdict? Am I taking a permanent vacation? Or do I get to live another day and go to some more of your killer parties.”

A devious smile buds on his lips. “My dad says he couldn’t get rid of you if he tried. Between my Mom’s threats and Kragger senior pledging his undying gratitude—he says you’re pure as gold.”

“Really?” I jump up and hug Ellis a real long time. I’m going to get my treble back—everything is going to work out in the end, I can feel it. “Funny your dad said that,” I muse, lying back over his legs. “My dad says the same thing. I’m pure as gold.”

A high-pitched scream saws its way over. I look up to find Brielle as the supplier of the ear-piercing infraction.

She skids into my leg like she’s sliding into home, kicking up a sandstorm in the process.

Drake lands on top of her and starts in on baby number two, right here in front of Ellis and me.

“I think he’s pecking her to death.” Ellis spits the sand out of his mouth as he says it.

“Should we intervene?”

“That’s how she wants to die.”

I wonder if I’d want to die that way. With Gage loving me with his kisses. An image of Logan wrestling me, pinning me to the ground with a fit of lust, interrupts the thought. Figures. I can’t get one good fantasy going because they keep intermingling. I have a feeling I’ll be subject to three-way nightmares for the rest of my natural life. Not that Ellis helped in that department.

“Dude, that’s so cool.” Ellis pops his bare leg beneath me. “I just effing read your mind!”

“Yeah, well, when you bite your fake girlfriend’s neck like it’s a piece of juicy fruit, that’s what you get. It’s a bloody perk,” I say it nonchalant as if I didn’t mind at all that he held me over the precipice of death while lumping me into a hotbed of erotica with Chloe of all people.

A flock of girls from East cackle past us.

He glides up from beneath me. “Excuse me. I’ve got some minds to read.”

“Don’t move,” Logan instructs. He takes Ellis’s spot and provides a much leaner, meaner, thigh for me to relax my head over.

“Word from the Faction Council is the New Moon take down is a no-go.” Logan’s teeth illuminate in the dark like white flames.

“Ellis just told me. Best news I’ve ever heard. Now all we have to do is figure out how to get the rest of our people the hell out of there—permanently.” Little Lacey burns through my mind and a pang of grief sears itself over my heart. 

Logan strokes his fingers through my hair, making tiny circles near my scalp. I can feel his affection for me in his touch. Something’s reverted in Logan. He’s been different all summer, but lately, it’s as if Gage wasn’t even in the picture anymore.