Drusilla looked up at the old, dingy house. It was leaning a little more than it was yesterday. Drusilla groaned. Mary hopped into her seat. Drusilla cranked Tank to life. She gave a side-glance to Mary to see if she was alright. Mary sat in the passenger seat looking perfect and scrolling through her phone. Her blond hair was in soft waves with a pink headband in it, neat makeup in natural tones, and baggy clothes that hid her suggestive outfit from their father. Mary's green eyes caught Drusilla's. Drusilla drove.
“You could be such a pretty girl if you wanted,” Mary said.
“Mary, not today.” Drusilla groaned. “We've been over this every day, and-”
“And I'm right!” Mary declared dramatically.
“Yes, well, I don't want to be a 'pretty girl'. It's not who I am.”
“But-”
“But, nothing. I can't just start wearing pink and twirling my hair.”
“Well, yeah. You keep chopping it the fuck off,” Mary fired. “I am just trying to help you.”
“I know Mary, but-”
“It’s not who you are, got it.” Mary rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. “But maybe if you tried to be cute, you’d get laid, and then you’d walk around with a big smile on your face instead of being a big, old bitch to everybody. Maybe Paul would-”
Drusilla slammed on the brakes at a red light. Mary's rib cage collided with the seat belt and flung her back against the seat. Frightened children cringed in the middle of the crosswalk. An elderly crossing guard blew his whistle and pushed the red stop sign in Tank's direction. Drusilla glared at the old man, wishing she had mowed him and the children down. She shot a glance to Mary, who was breathing heavily.
“Paul would what, Mary?” Drusilla had to fight to keep from yelling.
“Oh, come on, so him and his friends didn't get it at first. I'm sure-”
“He and his friends,” Drusilla corrected. “And Paul Hunt and the other traitors jumped me. I think that's way beyond 'didn't get it'. What are you, crazy?”
“It's not like you didn't get them back for it. I'm sure Paul is still carrying scars,” Mary replied.
Drusilla thought on that. “Emotional or physical?”
“Well, I'm sure he still has teeth marks,” Mary said
Drusilla laughed and hoped it was both. “The scumbag.”
“You'd look cuter with a red lip. That black on black on black is so bland,” Mary said, quickly switching back to her main point.
“I'll think about it.” Drusilla said it more to shut her up than anything. Mary always tried to dress her up. It was sweet really, but it was too bad Drusilla hated sweet.
Elderberry was a small, bland little slice of East Coast suburbia. Most of the town's money came from the wineries. Drusilla sneered at the boring, neat homes, shopping center, mall, and finally Elderberry high school. Drusilla's heart sank to her stomach as it did every weekday morning. Mary went into the back of the van to strip out of her sweater and baggy jeans. Drusilla parked. Mary slid open the side door to hop out in her pink halter-top and white miniskirt. She kicked her sneakers into the van and slipped her pink-socked feet into white pumps. Mary walked as if she were on a catwalk to the driver’s side for Drusilla's approval.
“Well?” Mary said.
Drusilla took one look at her sister. She was way passed mortification and now was just mildly guilty. “You look like you're ready to break dress codes.”
Mary smiled. “Perfect!”
Drusilla rolled her eyes at that. “You have condoms, right?”
“How else do you touch all the boys?” Mary smiled.
“Not every boy plays nice, Mary,” Drusilla warned. “Maybe I should try to teach you how to kick box again. What do you-?”
“Can we stop at the garden supply place after school today?” asked Mary.
“I have work today,” Drusilla said as she played with her hair in the side mirror. Her bangs weren’t keeping in the triangle point she wanted them to. She would need to cut them again. It was annoying how fast her hair grew. “Tomorrow I'm off, though. We can go then.”
“Awesome – love you, bye,” Mary said as she made her way towards the school.
“But what about... never mind,” Drusilla sighed. There she goes, Drusilla thought as she watched Mary's back. Off to break hearts, or penises, or whatever she thinks she's doing. Drusilla shook off her worry and gave herself one final look over before locking up Tank. Her makeup was already smudging; of course it was. Fuck! If she wanted to look beautiful, she'd let Mary dress her. Drusilla moved past the van towards the building. Another fucking day. If she was lucky, nothing interesting would happen. Or did she mean unfortunate? Whatever. Drusilla rolled her eyes at that thought and moved in the direction of school.
The car came out of nowhere. It was a sleek, fast, silvery blue. Loud, crappy music blared at her from within the vehicle. It was like a large techno spewing land-shark, and it was darting for her. Drusilla's stomach lurched. She could feel her body start to lock up on her. The car was going to hit her. She forced her body into action and jumped back, hoping that she wouldn't end up a bloody smear. Drusilla fell back out of the driver's path. The car skidded to a stop and reversed. Drusilla crinkled her nose against the burnt rubber smell and lifted her hurting body off the asphalt. Someone was going to die for this.
The driver rolled down the window with the click of a button and swallowed hard. Drusilla didn't recognize him. The new guy stuck his shaggy head out of the window. His crystal eyes and brown skin paled as panic set in. He would have been cute if not for the fact that his brains were located in his ass, Drusilla thought. She picked herself off the pavement and dusted grit off her. She shot a glare at the guy. He had on a blue and white flannel over a baggy gray shirt.
“Shit, are you okay?” he asked in what must have been half a panic attack. “I am so sorry.”
“Hey, man, what's that? Techno?” Drusilla asked in a friendly voice.
“Um...” The new guy looked confused a little. “No, dub-step.”
“Who the fuck listens to dub-step?” Drusilla yelled as she kicked the driver side tire. Heat clotted in her face and warmed her rage. “Learn to drive, Asshole!”
“Hey!”
Drusilla walked in front of his shiny car. Her black-polished middle finger held firmly up at him the whole way around. Welcome to Elderberry High, you big bag of dicks, Drusilla thought as she sneaked a peek at his shocked face. His large eyes blinked at her with disbelief. Drusilla wished she could flip his car with him in it. The fuckhead. Speeding through a busy parking lot with her in it. He should have had the good sense to do that shit when Paul was in the parking lot, or Pan. It would be awesome if Pan got mowed over by that fuckhead. Drusilla looked at the new guy again. There were enough assholes to go around at this school.
*
Michael Prince made his way through the cramped traffic jam that was Elderberry High's hallways, and he was lost. He had a map in one hand, a class schedule in the other, and with the welcome he got, there was no way in hell he was asking for directions. Michael looked around. The faceless student body bustled past him clumsily. Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was all giving him a headache. He should go take out his contacts and plop on his glasses. Maybe once he found out where he was going, Michael told himself.
“Michael Prince?” Michael thought he heard. He looked around. It sounded like an echo. There was no one. Michael went back to his map. “Michael Prince?” Again, Michael looked around and no one was calling his name. What was this? “Michael Prince?” Michael turned to look. Nothing. Okay then. He turned back to walk away.
The hand clapped down on his shoulder, and Michael jumped. A scrawny beanpole of a guy stood there as if he had popped out of the ground. He was mahogany skinned, with closely clipped hair and a green and white shirt that hung off of his shoulders. His jeans had holes in them.
“Where did you come from?” Michael said.
“Hey, didn't mean to startle you. I was calling your name. You are Michael Prince, right?” he said. “I'm George Geppetto.”
“Oh, cool,” Michael said. “Are you supposed to show me around?”
“I like to help out the new people.” George shrugged and held out his hand. “Let me look at your schedule,” then he yanked it out of Michael's hands. “Okay, cool. Your classes aren’t too out of the way from each other.”
George showed Michael where the cafeteria, gym and the nurse's office were. Everyone around Michael seemed to melt into a blur. A half-dazed looking girl in a red hoodie walked past with her hairy boyfriend who had on shades and a gray blazer. Three really fat, blond guys that had pig-like turned up noses sneered at Michael as they passed. A tall, broad guy with a full black beard, a red flannel, and trucker hat flipped through a hunting magazine with a pretty blond standing triumphantly over a dead elephant on the cover. He was surrounded by worshiping guys.
Michael and George passed a row of lockers, and Michael spotted the goth girl struggling with her locker. She yanked on it violently, spun the combination lock around a few times, and tried again. She threw her fist into the already dented metal, and then yanked a couple more times. In frustration, she raked her nails along the locker. The screech of the metal made Michael want to tear out his ears. A few passers-by moved out of her way and gave her a wide birth.
“Who's that?” Michael asked George.
George's eyes widened. “Stay away from that,” George warned
“What do you mean, that?” Michael asked.
“It's a witch, don't touch it!”
“What do you mean, it's a witch?” Michael asked.
“Yo, I am not even joking. That's a witch; don't mess with it unless you want something bad to happen to you. Look at Jack Horner. He pissed her off for something or other, and he died a few days ago. Coincidence? I think not. He's not the only one, too.”
“Holy shit!” Michael exclaimed. “Someone died?”
“Yeah. Jack Horner was the school’s track star, but not after that got done with him. They found him in the woods. I heard his neck was snapped. Everyone that pisses the witch off gets it.” George wasn't joking. There was real fear in his eyes.
“But why did you call her an it?” Michael asked.
“Yo, man. If Drusilla Bonnet's around, I want nothing to do with the situation, and trust me, you don't either.” George said that, and like a flash, was gone.
Michael didn't know what was with George, but Michael walked over to Drusilla. She had gone back to scratching and pounding on the locker. Drusilla breathed heavily and little patches of pink were on her cheeks like little blush butterflies. Wow, Michael thought. He liked that. He liked the short, jagged hair too. It was different. He had seen goth girls before, yeah, but they always seemed so frilly. There was something feral about her, like if you weren't careful...
“Hey,” Michael said. “You need help with that?”
She turned to glare at him. “You know everything your friend said over there? It's true.”
“Not all of it. You're not an it,” Michael said.
Drusilla froze for a second. Then, she rolled her violet eyes and went back to spinning the combo lock. “What is this, some peace offering? Well, don't worry, you didn't make my list. You can go now.” She made a shooing motion at him with her wicked claws.
“I'm really good with locks. I'll have you out of here in two seconds.”
“Fine.” Drusilla gave a big sigh and moved out of the way. “The combo is 2-10-22.”
“Cool, I'm Michael Prince,” he said as he shifted in front of the locker.
“Somebody has to be,” Drusilla said, more to herself than him.
The maroon paint was flaked off from years of deep scratches. He fiddled with the locker. With ease, Michael unlocked and opened it. Drusilla shoved him away as she moved in to grab her stuff. She was strong, Michael noted. It excited him. Then, she turned to Michael. Her stubble peeked through the heavy makeup. She wasn't very pretty, but there was something about those eyes. Purple eyes. Michael had never seen purple eyes before, and never had he seen eyes as on fire with repressed rage. His blood rushed from one head to another in an instant.
“Thanks, now fuck off.” Drusilla growled as she slammed her locker shut.
Michael watched as Drusilla turned and faded away like a ghost in the crowd. Impressed, he lifted his chin, stood on the tips of his toes, and tried to spot her, but she was gone. Perhaps she really was a witch. Nice. Michael kind of liked the thought of that. Witches were cool. Drusilla Bonnet. “How interesting.”
*
Mary sat with her friends, Anne and Sarah, in homeroom. They weren’t really her friends. She didn't hang out with them outside of school, but they did make her look good. They gossiped, flipped their hair, and checked their makeup. Mary fell in suit. It was easy. Everyone was abuzz about Jack Horner's death. Mary didn't want to think about it, so she steered her friends away from that topic as best she could. Not like it was working or anything. What she needed was a distraction.
The door opened and Mary flipped her long blond hair as she looked, in case it was a boy. She was so glad she did. He was new, a Latino guy, and oh so very sexy! He was tall, with dark messy hair and a muscular build. At least she hoped that's what was under those horrible clothes. He didn't dress well, but it was a good thing you didn't need clothes in bed, she thought. Yummy, Mary mouthed in hopes that he would see. He didn't seem to, but the only empty desk was next to her. This just kept getting better and better for Mary. The new guy made his apologies for being late and sat next to her.
“Hi, I'm Mary Bonnet,” Mary said before anyone could get a word in. Mary decorated herself with a wide smile and her hand outstretched.
“Oh, so you must be related to Drusilla Bonnet,” he replied. “I'm Michael Prince.”
Of course. Mary felt her insides curdle. Her friends snickered behind her. Michael’s perfect blue eyes shifted to them, and his eyebrows furrowed. Mary tried to wilt. Maybe looking sad could get the attention back on her. Michael Prince was unmoved. Shit! She was losing him. Work fast, Bitch. She hiked her smile back up and did her best to grab his attention. Michael's eyes flicked back on her, but not in the way she wanted.
“Yeah, I'm her sister,” Mary answered, feeling mortified.
“Oh my god, she actually admitted that!” Anne said to Sarah.
“I know! I wouldn't have.” Sarah cackled and Anne joined in. They laughed like hyenas.
Mary felt awful, but she didn't say anything. Michael shook his head, pulled out a notebook, and began writing something down. He didn't seem to be in the mood to talk anymore. Mary could feel the heat from her chest reach her ears. She quickly primped her hair to hide any redness. It didn't matter anyway. Michael didn't look up for the rest of homeroom. Fucking awesome, Mary grumbled to herself. Her friends went back to the topic of Jack. Mary half wished that she'd be next.
*
Drusilla sat in the corner of the art room, away from everyone else. It was how she liked it. No one bothered her. They didn't even bother to look at her. It was awesome. She could almost be herself here… almost. Drusilla's hands rested on the lump of clay, and she closed her eyes. She molded the clay in her mind into the shape of a functional teapot and opened her eyes. The clay was that perfect teapot. Just as she imagined it. She almost let herself smile, but she remembered where she was and closed her eyes. She imagined the teapot was a woman holding a basket and opened her eyes. The sculpture was perfect. It was exactly what she wanted it to be. The woman's long clay hair fell smoothly against the folds of her clay dress. A familiar, cold smile on her clay face. Drusilla smashed it down savagely and started sculpting with her hands. She wondered how closely she could match it to the lady. Maybe this time her sculpture would be closer than last time.
After the bell, Drusilla packed up her sculpture, but she didn't bother to wash the wet clay from her hand. It was clear to her that the lady would look nothing like what she sculpted with her mind. Still, it would probably land her a solid B. Not too bad. She yawned hard and grabbed her stuff before she made for the door. Michael Prince was in it, of course. Drusilla nearly kicked the fucker in the shin. Instead, she settled for glaring at him as he smugly leaned an elbow on the door frame. The bastard.
“We meet again,” he said.
“Awesome, now my life gets harder.” Drusilla shut her mouth. She didn't mean to be that honest out loud. Fuck!
Things were uncomfortable suddenly. Michael's eyes filled with pity under his furrowed brows. Drusilla didn't have time for this. She wiped her wet clay hand on his flannel and moved past him to make her way down the stupid halls. Michael Prince called after her, but she couldn't hear what he was saying over the blood pumping in her ears. That was a close one. Her heart thumped in her chest. She would have to pack up a little earlier from now on, but right now she wanted to get as far away from Michael Prince as she could. She didn't get very far before Mary hooked arms with her.
“What-”
“We need to talk.” Mary dragged Drusilla off to the girl’s bathroom.
“Damn it, Mary -” Drusilla started, but…
“What did you do to the new guy?” Mary asked.
“What?” Drusilla felt oddly hollow all of a sudden. “I don't -”
“I really, really like him, Drusilla.”
“You really, really like everybody, Mary. You keep going through these guys, and it's always the same. You 'really, really' like them, but once you've had them, you’re over it. You move on to the next guy. That's not very safe. You could...” Drusilla stopped. She had to fight hard to swallow down the crushing emptiness that was consuming her.
“This one’s different. I do really, really like him, and it's not my fault that once I’ve slept with them, they get all boring. I'm not going to be with some boring guy, I have standards.”
Mary leaned against a pink tiled wall in exactly the same way Michael Prince had. The bathroom was filthy. Drusilla really hoped that Mary intended to wash that arm after this. Drusilla knew she wasn't going to, but she really, really wished she would. All kinds of germs lived in a school bathroom. Who knows when the last time someone got around to cleaning it. It was a one-way ticket to... Dysentery land, or... whatever. Drusilla shook herself. She was getting off topic.
“I wasn't trying to make it seem like your fault.” Drusilla sighed. “I just think you should slow down with this guy, is all. He gives me the shivers.”
“Whatever, Mom!” Mary giggled, then gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth. Drusilla didn't say anything. For a long while she and Mary just watched each other. Drusilla couldn't move.
“Is this about Mom?” Drusilla said, finally. “Is that why-”
“Fuck Mom, and fuck you for bringing her up!” Mary exploded. “That whore left us, and she's not coming back! Even if she did come back, I'd fucking spit in her face. Fuck her! I hope she's dead. I hope-”
“I'm sorry.” Drusilla sighed.
“Don't you fucking be sorry for that sack of shit. You didn't make her leave us. She decided to abandon us! That bitch gave up. She's the reason you and Dad keep-”
“No, Mary. She's not the reason Dad and I fight.”
“I heard you this morning.” Mary scraped her front tooth along the edge of her glittery pink thumbnail. “Every word.”
“Let's not talk about that, okay?” Drusilla pleaded. Mary didn't say a word. “Okay?” Drusilla pressed. Mary still didn't answer. “Damn it, Mary, you have bigger problems than Mom right now. This Michael guy...” The emptiness burned in Drusilla's gut.
Mary bit off her nail and spit it into the distance. “They were boring. I don't feel shame about my failed relationships. Michael's different. He's new and exciting. How could that turn boring?” Mary asked.
“I don't care who you do, Mary, I'm just saying that you should be more careful. Sometimes people wind up hurt. I don't want to see you go through... that. Okay?” “I'm a big girl,” Mary replied.
“Are you, Mary?” Drusilla asked. “You're a sixteen year old girl.”
The bell rang. Mary sighed angrily. “Look, just don't mess with him, okay? For me.”
“I'm not interested in him.” So, why this feeling?
“No, I mean, don't fuck him up. I know how you do, Dru.”
“You’re late for class, Mary.”
“Promise me,” Mary said.
“I don't want to mess him up,” Drusilla said. “You hate being late, Mary. You're going to get in trouble.”
“I'll be fine,” Mary replied. “That's what tits are for.”
Drusilla watched with a heavy heart as Mary ran off. Then, Drusilla faded into her next class. Math class. She appeared seated in the back corner as if she had always been there. The spell took a lot out of her. Math was something Drusilla was good at, so the class went by easily enough. There wasn't much she could screw up on, and people generally left her alone, so it was okay. Drusilla worked in peace until the bell rang. She packed up and left for her next class, English.
In the hallway, she passed Paul Hunt and his gang of meathead jerkoffs. Paul was tall, meaty, with broad shoulders and a full, dark beard. He was captain of the wrestling team and President of the wilderness club, which was an excuse of a club to go hunting. That day, he had on a red flannel with his dirty jeans and brown boots. Redneck chic, Drusilla thought.
“Freak alert!” one of Paul's friends shouted. Pan. Always fucking Pan!
Drusilla smiled to herself. At least the day wasn't a total suck fest. With one look, Pan was on his knees in pain. Drusilla felt the power drain from her in one long rush. Everyone around Drusilla panicked. The smell of feces began to permeate the air. What a shame he wore light colored shorts, Drusilla thought. She pulled back and let nature do the rest. She was tickled pink.
“Well, Pan, at least I'm potty trained!” Drusilla called back. The rest of Paul's lackeys ran off in the direction of the nurse’s office. Paul wasn't laughing. Drusilla walked right up to him. He had a nasty expression on his face.
“That was amusing,” Drusilla said. Her eyes flashed dangerously.
“You're dead,” Paul growled.
“Aw, like your buddy, Jack?” Drusilla said wickedly. The sticky sweetness of it made her smile.
Paul wasn't so tough all of a sudden. Drusilla lifted a brow and walked away. That felt good. Drusilla hadn't actually killed Jack. She didn’t quite care that he was dead, but she hadn't killed him. That didn't mean she wouldn’t take advantage of the fact that he was dead. That little stunt would get everyone off her back for a while. At least Drusilla hoped it would. She walked like a supermodel down the halls. Passing a few of Mary's friends, Drusilla flipped them the middle finger and laughed as they flinched.
*
Drusilla slipped into the lunchroom after English. She sat at her table alone and pulled out her sketchbook and a brown paper bag. Drusilla ate her butter, honey, and sprout sandwich on whole wheat bread as she flipped open the book. The red hoodie girl and her hairy boyfriend entered the lunchroom and gave Drusilla a wide birth. Drusilla looked up, and her eyes locked with the boyfriend's yellow ones. Drusilla knew a wolf when she saw one. She tried to remember the girl’s name. Maybe Ramona, or Ronda.... whatever, Drusilla thought. She rolled her eyes and began to sketch.
She barely had time to get the jester drawing down before she heard the heavy lunchroom doors creak open. Drusilla could feel every footstep Michael Prince made toward her. Her eyes flitted up to stare at him angrily. She watched his eyes linger on the open page of her sketchbook. He quirked a brow and started open his mouth, but…
“Yo, Prince!” called George. “Over here!”
Drusilla was grateful. She locked eyes with George for a dangerously brief moment. Then, she tucked into her food. Food was an easy distraction from the bullshit. Drusilla sketched and ate. Every once in a while, she felt eyes on her and she looked up. Michael's back was to her. A slight hollow feeling stirred in her stomach. Her eyes flicked to Paul. Paul looked away. Drusilla sighed and looked away.
After the lunch bell rang, Drusilla packed up her stuff and put her book back in her bag. She stood and threw her trash away, and then off to study hall. Her study hall was in a cramped, crowded classroom. She hated it. There was no way she could get a seat that was any farther away from the others. The best she could do was to position herself behind the only other empty desk. That way it was between her and them. The rest was a matter of ignoring their chatter.
She pulled out her book and continued to sketch. As the other students filled the seats, someone sat in Drusilla's empty seat. Her eyes flicked up, and of course, Michael Prince. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Drusilla tried her best to look back at her book. Michael Prince lifted a brow. Drusilla was very confident that it hadn't worked and resolved to scratch his face if he tried to talk to her.
“Do you want a cookie?” Michael offered. Drusilla flicked her eyes up to see that yes, he did actually have a cookie.
“No, thank you,” Drusilla said before turning back to her sketchbook.
“Are you sure?” Michael pressed. “You seem a little hangry?”
Drusilla dropped her pencil on the page and looked at him. “Michael, what does that even mean?”
“Nothing, don't worry about it,” Michael said, and plopped the cookie onto her desk.
“Listen up, you nuisance. I will-” Drusilla began, but then she remembered her promise. “You're very lucky someone at this school likes you or else I'd crush you like that!” Drusilla snapped her fingers and a spark zapped Michael Prince behind his left ear with a crackle. Michael grabbed his ear and hissed in pain.
“Ouch!” Michael’s eyebrows crinkled together as he rubbed his ear.
“I don't often break promises, Michael. Don't make me.”
“What are you so afraid of, Drusilla?” Michael asked.
Drusilla shook her head and went back to her sketch. She could feel Michael’s eyes on her, but she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of an answer. She just let him stare, sketched on the page, and waited for the bell to ring. It took forever. Drusilla was half ready to snap and shove her pencil up Michael's nose. She chanced a look at him. He was reading a very old paperback, the cover was cracked and faded. His large, blue eyes slid in her direction, and Drusilla felt her face grow very hot. She snapped her attention back to her sketchbook and waited for the damn bell.
*
After the last bell rang, Mary got her things and headed for the parking lot. Drusilla was in the back of Tank, digging for something when she got there. Drusilla's too short skirt was not covering a thing while bent over, and her leggings were stretched to the brink. Mary almost giggled at the pink and white polka dot panties showing through.
“What are you looking for?” Mary asked.
Drusilla stood upright and yanked the hem of her skirt down. “My stupid button up for work.”
“Oh,” Mary said. “What time's work?”
“In a half hour. Enough time to hit the market to get you some dinner. I didn't have time to shop last night,” Drusilla said. “We'll go shopping for real when we go to the garden supply store.”
“Sure, whatever you want,” Mary said as she pulled a diet grape soda out of her bag and cracked the top open.
Drusilla slid the door shut. “Did you have a good day?” Drusilla's eyes lingered on the soda can, and Mary knew Drusilla was calculating how many chemicals were in each sip. Drusilla shook her head and opened the passenger door for Mary.
Mary shrugged and got in. “Not really,” Mary said with a burp. She sipped from the can, then tilted it towards Drusilla. “Want some?”
Drusilla's face fell. “No, thank you.”
Mary shrugged, “It's not your fault,” and downed the can before crushing it and tossing it in the messy back, “in case you're wondering.”
“What's not?” Drusilla put an arm around her sister and gave her a little squeeze.
“The way today turned out.”
“Did nothing good happen?” Drusilla asked.
“I heard you made Pan shit his pants. That was pretty awesome,” Mary answered.
“I thought you liked Pan? You dated him for a few weeks, at least.”
“Yeah, he was alright, but he wanted to get high all the time and drag race his pinto, Tinker. Plus, he was a lousy fuck. I mean, like he just laid there and waited for me to do all the work and whined at me when I wouldn't. He's a fucking man-child. It's so grody. Plus, he treats you like shit, so none for him.”
“That sucks,” Drusilla said as she hopped into the driver’s seat and buckled in.
“Yeah, ugh,” Mary said.
Then, they both stopped. Michael Prince was walking through the parking lot. Drusilla took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. Mary felt that. She shot Drusilla a quick glare, then went back to watching him. He was so perfect, Mary thought. He waved at them. Mary beamed and waved back. Drusilla sighed heavily next to her. Mary glared at her sister.
“Don't do that. He'll come over here,” Drusilla growled.
“Oh, stop. He's nice.”
“He is a buffet of dicks!” Drusilla half shrieked as she and Mary watched him.
Michael stopped for a second. He looked at them. Mary shrank in her seat. She was pretty sure that he heard Drusilla. Drusilla looked as if she could care less. She revved the engine and shot off. Tank nearly hit Michael on the way out of the parking lot, Drusilla's middle finger up at him. Mary groaned into her hands as Drusilla giggled to herself.
“You're a buttface,” Mary grumbled.
“Oh relax,” Drusilla sighed, “it's not like I killed him.”
Thank you for reading the first chapter of my up coming debut novella, Fairywing. If you have enjoyed this sample Fairywing will be out 3.23.2021. Reviews are appreciated. thanks again.
D. H. Torkavian