Grim Page 5
God, emotions can be so damn complicated when you barely feel anything besides hunger.
Speaking of hunger, as I open my locker, a rotting banana peel falls out and lands on the floor. I used to be a neat freak but being dead has sort of turned me into a slob. But I haven’t eaten a banana in over a year, so where the hell did this come from…
As I grab a couple of books from the top shelf of my locker, I discover that someone has filled up the space with a bunch of trash. Awesome. It smells like rotting death in here.
No, scratch that. Rotting death smells way lovelier than this.
Pulling a face, I sweep all the trash off the top shelf and onto the floor. Someone had to have put it in here as a joke, but who? Who has my locker combination? As far as I know, no one. Well, except for Thorn. He may have seen me put it in a couple of times. But putting trash into my locker doesn’t seem like his sort of thing. No, this seems like something Zane and his buddies would do. In fact, Zane and a handful of the guys on the team did it to a bunch of freshmen at the beginning of our junior year. Nina helped them, too. And while I didn’t help, I didn’t try to stop them either.
Kicking some trash out of the way, I stuff my books into my bag, bump my locker shut, and then turn around, scanning the hallway for the culprit of this stupid locker prank. A couple of people are watching me, but they quickly look away when I make eye contact. Other than that, no one seems suspicious. That doesn’t mean I’m just going to let this go. No, I’m going to find whoever did this and make them apologize.
See? I’m not so bad. Someone dumps trash into my locker and all I want is an apology.
Of course, I’ll make them get down on their knees and beg a little. Perhaps I’ll even tie them up for a bit … and sneak a taste of their soul …
Shaking the hunger from my mind, I start forward to my first period class, only to realize there’s a note in the midst of the trash I knocked out of my locker. Bending down, I scoop it up and read over the handwritten note.
Dear Death Girl,
Do this school a favor and drop out. No one wants your creepy-ass here.
P.S. You smell like trash.
I can’t help laughing. My favorite part is the P.S., like it was the only way they could tie in the trash they put in my locker. It’s comical in a way Nina used to be when she tried to roast someone.
For example, one time she tried to roast Zane after he insulted her shoes. Her clever response was: “Yeah, well, at least I can wear high heels, you know, because your feet are so big and probably won’t even fit into them.”
Everyone had laughed at her remark, but only because it was pathetically amusing. I made the mistake of laughing, too, and she’d been pissed off at me for days. Eventually, I apologized and told her I’d been laughing because she was funny.
She wasn’t. Nina was rarely funny when she was trying to be.
I glance down at the note again, assessing the handwriting, wondering if she’s the one behind the trash. She hasn’t spoken to me in over a year, but she has spread some nasty rumors about me, one being that I never shower.
Hmmm… I never shower. I smell like trash. It’s kind of along the same lines.
Plus she’s dating someone on the football team. And no, I’m not talking about Jason. She broke up with him a couple of weeks after I showed up at school looking like I spent all weekend making friendship bracelets with the grim reaper. And right after that, she started dating someone else. They’ve been dating ever since and are known around school as the power couple.
“And speaking of the pathetic, vomit-inducing couple,” I mumble as Nina and Zane enter the hallway, side by side, holding hands.
Yep, in case you haven’t guessed it, that guy Nina started dating is my ex-boyfriend Zane. The worst part is Zane and I never really broke up. He just started avoiding me. Although, it’s not like I actually tried to talk to him either. I was too distracted with trying not to drink everyone’s soul at that point.
About a week after my death transformation, Nina and Zane walked into the school just like they are now. That’s how I found out my relationships with my BFF and boyfriend were officially over, like almost everything else in my life.
The sad part is I didn’t even really care. Not about the actual loss of the relationships anyway. Dying made me realize how shallow and one-sided my friendship was with Nina. But my relationship with Zane? Well, I once believed he loved me, enough that I was going to lose my virginity to him, that night after the party actually. That had been the plan anyway, but then I died. And it’s really hard thinking about sex and kissing and all that lovey-dovey crap when your mind is constantly consumed by the desire to eat souls all the time.
Not that I didn’t completely not care that the two of them ended up dating each other. When I first found out, I was a little pissed off at the betrayal. Mad enough that I actually stalked Nina for a while and came close to drinking her soul one day when we coincidentally ended up in the women’s bathroom together—okay, maybe coincidentally is kind of a stretch, since I followed her in there with the intent of eating her soul. Luckily, she went into one of the stalls and started crying. I’d never seen Nina cry before, and it made my tiny bit of humanity momentarily take over, enough that I decided to walk out and let her be. Sometimes I regret my choice. Like right now.
As Nina’s gaze finds me in the throng of people congesting the hallway, a smirk pulls at her lips. Then, cupping Zane’s cheek, she presses her lips to his.
I roll my eyes. If she thinks she’s making me jealous, she’s wrong. The last thing I want is to kiss Zane. However, I wouldn’t mind pressing my lips to his to sneak a taste of his soul …
As my mouth starts to salivate, I shake my head. Focus, Remi. You’re thinking about souls too much this morning.
I need something else to focus on.
Glancing at the note in my hand, I decide that’ll be an okay distraction for now. I stuff the piece of paper into my back pocket then lean against my locker and let my gaze track Nina as she continues making out with Zane while they walk down the hallway.
When they pass me, she breaks the kiss, throws me another smirk from over her shoulder, then spins around and sashays toward the bathroom. I wait a hungry beat or two before I slowly stalk after her, keeping a bit of distance between us.
She doesn’t notice me following her as she pushes people out of her way, slams her hand against the bathroom door, and steps inside.
I pause before walking in behind her, taking a moment to sniff the air. And no, not because I like the smell of shitty toilets. Give me some credit. I may be dead and spend my nights drinking criminals’ souls, but I’m not that disgusting. The main reason I’m smelling the air is to determine if Nina is alone in there or not. As far as I can tell, the air only reeks of her expensive perfume and overpriced body wash.
Jackpot. She’s alone. Just how I want her when I confront her about the trash incident.
Pushing into the bathroom, I let a grin spread across my face as I round the corner and into the sink and stall area. But my grin immediately morphs into a grimace.
Nina isn’t alone. A small, thin girl about my age, wearing holey jeans, a baggy T-shirt, dirty converse sneakers, and square-framed glasses is with her.
Revenna, Thorn’s only friend. I guess Nina’s overwhelmingly stinky perfume masked Revenna’s scent.
I spin around to leave, figuring I’ll corner Nina later when she’s alone.
“God, you’re such a loser,” Nina says to Revenna as I reach for the door handle. “Do you even shower or brush your hair?”
“Y-yes,” Ravenna stutters, something she’s done since grade school.
Although I’ve heard her talk to Thorn before and she can speak evenly, I think the stuttering comes out when she’s anxious. And with how much she’s teased, she spends a lot of time stuttering.
“You’re such a liar,” Nina sneers. “You smell worse than the toilets. Seriously, people like you shouldn’t even exis
t. You’re a waste of space.”
Now, I may not have much of a soul, but I have a sore spot when it comes to Nina getting any form of satisfaction. And that sore spot developed the day she started dating Zane and spreading rumors about me. It should’ve started before then, but sadly, it took me dying to realize what a bitch my ex-bestie is.
Not wanting her to get any form of satisfaction, I move away from the door and turn around to intervene her little bully fest, telling myself I’m only doing this because I hate Nina. But deep down, much to my demise, a tiny part of me pities Ravenna.
“Now, now, Nina, I really don’t think you should be judging other people on how they smell.” I fan my hand in front of my nose as she spins toward me, startled. “Not when your perfume smells like a flower tried to out-scent a sewer and lost. Seriously, I don’t know why you pay so much for it when you could just as easily splash a bit of toilet water all over you and get the same effect.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “That sewer scent is coming from you, not me. Or did you not get my note this morning?” She smiles smugly.
So it was her. That little wench.
I sniff my pits then dismiss her with a flick of my wrist. “Nah, I smell like deodorant and my shampoo, which may be cheap as shit but doesn’t smell like it.” I also smell like souls, but it’s not like I’m going to tell her that.
She rolls her eyes. “You think you’re so clever, Remi, but you’re not.”
“Maybe, but I am kind of funny.”
She crosses her arms. “No, you’re an idiot.”
My lips curl as my joking mood turns dark. “If I’m the idiot, then what does that make you?”
Her overly lipstick stained lips twist upward. “An idiot’s ex-best friend.”
I crack my knuckles and inch toward her. “I may very well be an idiot, but we both know I’m the idiot who can kick your ass.” I lean toward her, and she visibly stiffens. “And right now, I really, really want to.”
Her breaths rush out of her as her eyes widen.
Grinning, I lean closer and stick my hands up at the same time I whisper, “Boo!”
She lets out a squeal and jumps back, her back bumping into the wall. “Goddammit, you’re such a freak!” she snaps, panting loudly as she backs toward the door with her eyes locked on me and her knees shaking. She continues to shake until she gets the door open and is halfway out in the hallway. Then her nerves relax as a smirk spreads across her face. “And you really are an idiot, Rem-Rem. You’re an idiot for not realizing I was sleeping with your boyfriend behind your back for months while you two were dating.” With those parting, sealing-her-fate words, she skitters out of the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind her.
My normally cold blood heats underneath my skin as anger pumps through me. What the hell? Did she really sleep with Zane while I was dating him? Knowing Nina, she could very well be lying just to get me back for making her almost piss herself. Then again, knowing Nina, she also could’ve very well be telling the truth.
“I-I wouldn’t b-believe h-her,” Revenna stammers, reminding me that I’m not alone.
I slowly turn toward her. She’s leaning against the wall as if she’s afraid of me. Yet, unlike most people, she makes eye contact.
“Believe who?” I question, crossing my arms and staring her down.
Sucking in a breath, she pushes from the wall and straightens, adjusting the ponytail holder that’s struggling to tame her curly black hair. “N-Nina.” She points at the closed door then clears her throat and takes another deep breath. “S-She …” She clears her throat again and mutters, “Don’t stutter, you idiot,” underneath her breath before sighing. “I’m pretty sure she wasn’t hooking up with Zane while you were dating him.”
“How would you know?” I ask, mildly curious.
She steps toward me. “Because I overheard a conversation between them when they first started dating that completely contradicts what she said.”
“And how would you overhear a conversation between them?” I ask. “No offense or anything, but you don’t really run in the same crowd as them.”
“I know, but I’m quiet and average, and you’d be surprised how much those qualities help you become unnoticed, even when you’re right there in front of someone.”
A small drop of pity tries to surface in me.
“I’m not looking for pity,” she adds, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just returning the favor.”
Now she has me confused. “What favor?”
“The one you just did.” She scratches her wrist. “You know, when you walked in here and stopped Nina from bullying me.”
Her words make me sound like a superhero, which I’m so not.
“That’s not what I was doing,” I lie. “I just hate Nina and look for any opportunity to get under her skin.”
As she scrutinizes me closely, I examine my black fingernail polish, pretending to be deeply bored.
“All right, if you want to pretend it was all for you, then I guess that’s how I’ll return the favor.” She pats me on the arm, startling me. Me, motherfucking Remi, the undead girl who just kicked a warehouse full of human traffickers’ asses last night.
But it’s also been a long time since someone has touched me.
I wonder if she can feel how cold I am.
She doesn’t appear to as she pats my arm again and gives me a warm smile. “You’re not as bad as everyone believes. Or scary.” As the bell rings, she offers me another smile then moves toward the door.
“I am, too, scary,” I say defensively.
She just keeps on smiling as she walks out, leaving me alone with the foul stench of dirty toilets surrounding me, along with a buttload of confusion.
“I’m scary,” I repeat confidentially as I turn toward the mirror. My eyes look as black as singed souls, the look contrasting startlingly with my zombie-pale skin. My lips are stained black and match my outfit, and my long, brown hair is a tangled mess of waves. “I totally look scary,” I tell myself again. “That Revenna girl is just crazy.”
Yeah, that’s it. She’s the crazy one.
At least, that’s what I try to convince myself. But the truth is, after spending the last year with everyone skittering away from me, Revenna’s little arm pat and not being scary remark has me extremely unnerved.
I Think My Sidekick Might Despise Me
I have one class with Nina throughout the day, and it just so happens that Zane is in the class too. It’s third period Biology, so instead of sitting at desks, we sit at tables with partners. Nina and Zane share a table toward the front, while I sit near the back. Usually, I don’t pay too much attention to them, but today, I’m literally trying to burn holes into them with my gaze. Too bad I don’t actually possess that power.
“Longing for the old days?” Thorn mutters from beside me as he draws a doodle of a skull on his notebook.
Yep, I share a table with him, and he’s spent many hours bitching about the fact. Not that I believe he’s totally serious. He’s the one who chose to sit down beside me on the first day of class. Although, he did make a big show of muttering how he had no other choice, that there weren’t any chairs left to sit in. Which, I guess was true, but deep down, I think he doesn’t despise me as much as he tries to act like he does.
“What’re you talking about?” I ask without taking my eyes off Nina and Zane.
They’re holding hands, and she keeps whispering in his ear when the teacher turns his back to write on the board. Every time she does, Zane smiles. It makes me want to know what she’s saying. And that annoys me enough that I’m starting to debate vagina-punching myself in an attempt to knock some sense back into me. Not that I actually think my vagina is where I carry my sense, but it’ll be painful enough to distract me from my stupidity.
“You’ve been staring at Queen Bitch and Dumbass Douchebag for the entire class,” Thorn replies. “I’m guessing you’re longing for the old days when the three of you wer
e friends and almost made up an entire brain.”
My gaze slides to him. “If you’re implying that I only have a third of a brain, you’re completely wrong. There’s totally a whole one up there.” I knock my knuckles against the side of my head.
His eyes glint wickedly. “You may have about a half a brain, and those two have a quarter each.”
I shake my head. “No way. I have like three-quarters and those two each have an eighth.”
He stares at me for a beat or two. “Yeah, probably.”
My lips part in mock shock. “Did you just say something nice about me?”
He dramatically rolls his eyes. “If you think having three-quarters of a brain is a compliment, then I guess I did.”
I let a smile spread across my face. “Aw, I think my new bestie is starting to like me.”
He rolls his eyes again then returns his gaze to his notebook as he goes back to doodling. “Stop calling me your bestie. It’s so damn annoying.”
I rest my elbow on the table and prop my chin on my hand. “What’s better then? BFF? Best friend? My other half? My secret keeper? Oh, what about my sidekick?”
His gaze cuts to mine. “Implying that I’m your sidekick would mean you’re implying you’re a superhero, which you’re not.”
“Maybe I am, though,” I tease. “I mean, usually superheroes keep their identities a secret so, for all you know, I could spend my nights getting rid of bad guys.” Not that I believe I’m a superhero. It’s just fun messing with him.
He snorts a laugh. “Like you know anything about superheroes.”
“I actually do,” I tell the truth for probably the first time in a long time. “And FYI, that remark was awfully judgmental of you.”
“Like you’re one to talk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you’re a judgmental snob.”
My lips part, this time in real shock. “I am not.”
He rolls his eyes again. “I can list off ten incidents just off the top of my head that prove you are.”