The Devil & Me

Chapter Thirteen: Purgatory

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The morning was filled with the sound of movement. Cassius stirred beside me, rubbed down my arm, and sat up. "What time is it?" he asked. He stretched to look at my face. "I know you're awake."

I opened a single eye. "Now I am." I peeled the blanket away from my body and folded my legs underneath me. I watched him stand, clearing the empty plate. (After I finished crying, I realized I was hungry), and returned with two glasses of water. I took one and swallowed it down.

"Are you going home right now?"

"I should."

"Do you want to?" I bit the inside of my cheek. He set down his half-emptied water glass. "Maybe wait a few hours," he said. "Come to the kitchen. My mother wants to meet you." I winced, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, it's fine. Nevermind." I slid out of bed. He could introduce me as his...school friend. His mother would probably fill in the rest anyway. I didn't know why I was so squeamish. I'd made his bed and layed in it. I was feeling stiff in my jeans and tank, both of which smelled like sleep. "Could I shower first?"

He led me to a bathroom, pointed me to the towels, and closed the door. I pulled my braids to the top of my head and stepped inside. The whole room was bright white, with crisp tiles, and sparkling lights overhead. It felt like a hotel bathroom, to be honest.

When I finished, I rifled through my duffle bag and found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I'd seen Cassius walking around barefoot. It had to be a rule in their house. So I padded down the hall with no shoes toward natural light and laughter. I entered the living room.

A man stood with his arms wrapped around a woman. They were dancing, it seemed, but she was balancing a tray of steaming potatoes and he was grinning like a fox. The woman's eyes darted to me, darted back, and then back at me. She untangled her body from the man's.

"You must be Camille." She set the tray down and came toward me. "Yes, Camille, right?" She took my hands in hers. They were warm and soft. Her nails were painted nude, and the sapphire ring on her finger glinted. It was a large rock. "It's so good to meet you. Cassius told me about you."

"Oh. It's good to meet you too. I'm a⁠⁠—"

"I'm his father," the man said. He came to shake my hand. His smile was wide on his face. "You can call me Ivan."

I blinked at him. "Could I call you Mr. Ambrose?"

"Ah, that makes me feel like my father. And old."

"You are old." Cassius's voice came from the kitchen, and he emerged with a plate of scrambled eggs. "Are we eating at the table or can we go back to the room?"

"And make grandchildren?" I choked on my own breath. "No. Come set up the table." Mrs. Ambrose picked up the potato tray and moved deeper through the apartment, back into the kitchen. Mr. Ambrose nodded to me and followed. Cassius and I were left standing shoulder to shoulder.

"I'm going to say I'm your school friend," I said. "I don't want to lead your mother on."

"But you're not my friend." I looked up at him from the corner of my eye. "I mean, you are if your friends try to fuc⁠⁠k you⁠⁠—" I pinched his arm and a grin grew in the corner of his mouth. "Under those circumstances, we can be friends."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious." He turned his head and pressed his mouth against my temple. "You said you want me and I want you. Now we have each other. It's very simple, isn't it?" His fingers stroked my back. "There's no one to judge us, there'll be no more trickery at school. I'll make you happy..."