"Why don't you go back to Hell?" I spat, fury boiling in the pit of my stomach.
A dry smile played on his lips. "Haven't you heard, Cupcake? The Devil has yet to enter the realms of Hell."
Follow the tale of Demi Lawson and Aidan Benson as they each...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Shit," Aidan swore.
"Ooooh," Briella exclaimed from next to me, her hand stilling so that it was hovering over her chalk drawing on the concrete. "You said a bad word!"
"Spare me, Brie," he sighed, throwing a glance at her. "And zip up the coat, or you're going back inside. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."
"Sorry, Aidan!" She quickly zipped up the jacket and then continued on her fairy drawing.
I mean, I thought it was a fairy. The thing had wings.
"I don't know what the hell is wrong with this thing," Aidan tossed the screwdriver down in frustration.
I looked up from my own drawing on the sidewalk and turned my attention to where Aidan was crouched down in front of the exposed motorcycle engine.
Upon our arrival to his house after picking Briella up, he had gone back to the elementary school to retrieve his bike. When he got back to us he complained about something being wrong with the engine and had been trying (and failing) to figure out the problem.
"Do you want me to look at it?" I offered.
Aidan paused in hesitation, looking at me warily. "Umm I don't know-"
"Oh, come on," I stood up and dropped the chalk, brushing the powder from my hands as I walked over to the spot he was at on the driveway. "It's not like I'm going to ruin it."
"Yeah, you see, I'm not so sure I believe that," he quickly grabbed my wrist before I could touch anything. "Are you a mechanic?"
"Are you?" I shot back, pushing his hand off. "I've fixed plenty of engines before, Aidan."
"Handing tools off to your brother and/or dad does not equate to fixing engines."
I narrowed my eyes, but chose to let the comment slide. "So what's wrong with it?"
"Dem-"
"What's. Wrong. With. It?" I repeated slowly.
Aidan stared at me before sighing. "The engine is seized up. It isn't turning over."
