How to Save Your School From Soul Stealing Demons

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

"About time. I was wondering when you'd grow a pair."

I breathe out in relief as the weight falls from my shoulders. "So you guys don't hate me?"

Renny raises a shoulder. "I did for a few hours. But Watts helped put me in your shoes—wasn't that hard when I thought about the way I tried to change myself for my parents. And now you're here, so... I think it's safe to say you're forgiven."

Watts steps aside to let me in. "You snuck out?"

I shake my head as he closes the door. "I told them the truth about baseball, and my art, and that I had a commitment tonight that I couldn't break, grounded or not."

Renny gives me a once over, pursing her lips as if to say she's impressed. "Wow."

I'm beyond grateful they've forgiven me for my stupidity, but there's still one more wrong to right. I look to the living room, then the kitchen—both empty. "Is Ambrose upstairs?"

The two of them freeze, then share a look. I can't read exactly what it means, but I can guess: I must be screwed. Ambrose is probably mad enough that my apology won't fix my mistakes.

"He's meeting us here at one," Watts finally answers.

"Oh." I look between them, wondering what all the awkwardness is about. And then I realize—if Ambrose isn't here, and neither is Watts's family, the two of them were here alone until I showed up. I raise my eyebrows. "Oh."

Renny crosses her arms and stares me down, silently daring me to make a comment. I fight to hold back a smile as I notice things I hadn't a second ago—messy hair, flushed faces, the fact that one of the decorative couch pillows is lying on the floor.

Somehow, I manage to hold my tongue, turning to Watts instead. "How's your..." I gesture vaguely to my side.

He shrugs as we head to the living room. "It's okay."

"Don't bother trying to convince him not to come." Renny sits next to him on the couch and picks up the pillow, holding it in her lap. "I've already tried."

And it's obvious Renny would be way more likely to sway him than I would. I know what he's thinking, though— it's exactly what I should have thought about yesterday. The four of us are depending on each other. And like Watts, I don't intend on letting any of them down again. No matter what it takes.

────── 〔⛧〕──────

When Ambrose showed up, he didn't even seem surprised to see me. He acknowledged me with a nod, and a smile that I would have missed if I wasn't looking for it. And since then, just like Ren and Watts, he's been treating me like I didn't basically leave them for dead less than twenty-four hours ago.

In case I haven't said it before, let me say it now: this past month has been totally bat-shit, but it's also given me the best friends of my life.

The four of us went to the town diner again for an early before-the-dance dinner, aka what very well may have been our last meal. And yeah, you read that right—our last meal, as in, I ate it, too. Because somehow, even though it sounds totally insane, my appetite was affected more by Mom and Dad than it is by the impending fight with Joan.

Now we're sitting in Ambrose's truck, parked up the street from Norman's house again. The dance starts in less than an hour, giving us just enough time to sneak in, get the book, sneak back out, and get to the dance before any shit goes down. 

If Watts was right about Joan having a connection to the journal, then I'd better hope I was right about her being too busy with her evil plan to come fight with us again, since we'll be weaponless. It's one thing to sneak into Norman's house when there's a chance at getting caught—can you imagine if he caught us wielding a baseball bat, a sledgehammer, and an ax? Then maybe the police would start to believe stories about murderous teenagers.