IDGAF

I don’t know why Jasper waving his sex games in my face bothers me. It shouldn’t. I’m not stupid; I know how guys talk to one another when girls aren’t around—for better or worse. The twins spent many a night loudly describing their bullshit to one another on the other side of thin walls, plus the guys at other homes weren’t exactly angels. I’m not eager to be part of it, but I’ve always been able to shrug it off as dumbass boy hormones.

Then why does it bother me so much now?

Growling under my breath as I stalk across the quad toward the library, I keep my eyes on the ground while I stew. Maybe it’s because the fucker was obviously trying to get under my skin? That was the twins’ way of punishing me for existing though, and I could ignore them most of the time. Do I just want his approval? My social life has never been very active, but I want these guys to accept me, so that’s possible. It’s odd because I’ve spent a long time not giving a fuck about what people think.

“I feel so damned drawn to these dickfaces and I wish I knew why,” I mutter as Dottie clings to me. “Normally I would have figured out how to completely avoid Prince Asshole by now. But I don’t know the rules here and I’m not sure I can survive without people in my corner, even if they’re likely to stab me in the back.”

I climb the steep stairs to the hulking building with anger still vibrating through me. I have plenty of time to read during this long break and I’m going to use it. If I can learn the basics of this world, I can pull away from the toxic men who amuse themselves by being hurtful.

Wait… hurtful?

Frowning to myself, I yank the door open and stomp inside, flashing the stupid ID at the desk before I head as deep into the library as I can go. I need to lose myself in school work; it’s always been the best way to deal with the chaos of my personal life.

I’m sure it will work just as well in Hell as it did above ground.

The comfy corner I built my little nest in is secluded enough for me to read the children’s books without someone seeing me. I used my laptop to search the library’s files for curriculum at the elementary and secondary schools for rich demons so I could mimic the education the rest of the students received. It might look stupid to be reading such basic materials, but starting at the beginning has always been the best way for me to build a foundation.

Dottie is curled up with her snacks in my bag as I move through the sixth grade subjects while I chew on my granola bar. She’s been quiet and well behaved—something that helped me focus immensely. I think she tries to mimic the mood I need, but I haven’t gotten to familiar education just yet. It’s not mentioned in any of the young reader texts or books so far.

“I haven’t found that fairy tale the guys mentioned, either. Could it have been a verbal tale?” Sighing, I shake my head. I know verbal storytelling is big with humans and it might be with demons or other supernaturals too. That means sizeable gaps in my knowledge base will stay open until I figure out where I can go to get the urban legends and old wives’ tale type shit.

A rustling sound distracts me and I’m instantly on alert. I’ve caught the whispers in the hallways that I’m sure that idiot Bastion is responsible for. I know being the next member of Jasper’s stupid boy band isn’t making me popular with others who were hoping for the chance. It’s not the prize those guys think it is, but you can’t convince people about something they’ve already decided. So random noises coming from vague locations I can’t see could be nothing or a major problem.

“If I have to stab someone and get expelled, I’m going to be pissed,” I whisper to Dottie. She bobs her tiny head and shakes a fist as if she’s going to help. “Well, at least I have your support.”

Moving slowly, I put my book down and crawl out of the nook I created. There are a lot of fucking places someone could lurk in this section, and when I picked it, I was hoping I’d be the one doing it, not some psycho shithead playing a prank. Looking around, I find a large enough piece of furniture to crouch behind—if I can get over there without being seen. It would give me a good view of the space while I try to formulate a fucking plan.

“Here goes nothing,” I murmur to my kinkajou as I scramble across the pathway to the oversized armchair and duck behind it. Once I’m there, I press my lips together, closing my eyes so I’m listening for the sound of movement more carefully. If I made it, I’ll be safe for a few more minutes at least.

Normal people don’t hear sounds in a library and assume it’s someone who wants to do them harm, Kat.

Of course, my life has been nothing remotely normal and my experiences have my gut telling my brain to get fucked. Hyperawareness is a symptom of my trauma, but like the baseball player said, it doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get me. The quiet finally settles and I turn, opening my eyes so I can peek out of the crevice between this chair and the wall.

An eyeball is staring directly at me when I do, and I let out a high-pitched scream that makes Dottie go running for cover.

Who the fuck is that??!!!

“Holy fuck, Kit, stop! ”

The breathless sound of Oriel’s voice brings me back to reality, and I suddenly feel my limbs thrashing around. My limbs feel heavy and my brain is full of cotton—it’s almost impossible to focus on anything. Breathing hard, I put a hand on my chest as I mentally run through the ‘five things’ exercise slowly. I have to get the ‘fight or flight’ brain to disengage or I’ll hurt someone by mistake.

The one thing I know for sure is my hand is wrapped around the knife I carry in my pocket like a vise.

“Damn, man. This is not a normal response—he’s having a flashback. Or… he was and maybe he’s coming back? Don’t touch him.”

That’s X’s voice. They’re right; touching me now would certainly lead to someone being injured. It wouldn’t be the first time an innocent bystander was treated to a left hook, but this time, I’m armed.

Breathe, Kat. Just breathe in and out, do your exercises.

“This is bad, X. It’s just like when…”

“I know.”

I frown a bit, wishing Oriel had completed that sentence. They all have such a long history and I don’t know any of it. No one will tell me, either. It makes me feel like I’m ice skating uphill to prove myself—and I hate that I seem to care about proving myself at all.

Oriel’s energy moves back a bit and the pressure on my lungs decreases. I guess he was close enough for me to sense him, but not actually feel his touch. That was for the best, but now that he’s further away, my senses are calming a bit. I blink, forcing my eyes to focus little by little so I can at least see what the fuck is going on.

“Kit, we didn’t mean to frighten you. We came to apologize… well, no, not apologize.” X pauses for a second, then continues. “O and I came because we weren’t okay with Jasper’s behavior. He was being a douche—a disrespectful douche who needs to make his own apologies.”

O snorts and I want to smile. Jasper Eversore will never admit he was wrong, much less apologize—even I know that. My right arm untenses and I can stop the knife hand from flailing, so I do. Both of them let out a relieved noise, which makes me want to smile again. The two of them aren’t bad, honestly. Add in Salem and I feel like I have at least three people who I believe would help me if I needed it. I’m not sure about Anton yet and I know Zav and Slash only do what serves them or their Prince at the moment.

Jasper can sit on a fucking cactus and spin.

My vision adjusts as my pulse goes from a brass band to a lower tempo, allowing me to see the elegant Xerxes and goth-y O sitting on the ground on either side of me. I loll my head to the left, giving Oriel a grateful look—at least, I hope it is—and then to the right to do the same for X. The room is quiet as they give me space to regain control of the rest of my faculties. I swallow hard when I know it’s time, then gingerly push myself out of the supine position to sit up.

“So…” I croak in the raspy post-episode tone I know so well. “That happened.”

Oriel tilts his head at me, his brows furrowed. “It did.”

“For fuck’s sake, O,” X mutters as they shake their head. “Kit, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong.”

My lips curve a little because I know that. Part of my therapy was accepting I can’t blame myself for these reactions. I have a condition—several, in fact—just like people with epilepsy or diabetes. It doesn’t matter that mine is caused by my brain anymore than it matters their pancreas causes a diabetic’s sugar crashes.

“I know,” I rasp. “But I’m… sorry… you had to experience it.”

A fiercely determined look comes over Oriel’s face as he practically growls, “Do not apologize for something you can’t control. I scared you and I should have known better. It was obvious you have trauma from your past life up there. My silly stalking caused an attack and I’m the one who should be embarrassed.”

Uh… what. No one has ever said they were sorry for triggering me; I always have to hang my head in shame.

“Kit Kat, I don’t know what the hell the fucking humans do when people have issues, but at least some of us down here are more evolved than that.” X gives me another gentle smile, holding a hand out. “You don’t have to talk to us about what causes this but if you make sure we know what triggers you’re aware of, we can try to accommodate you.”

Swallowing around a dry throat that’s closing up with emotion, I nod slightly. It takes a lot of effort, but I reach out to take their hand and squeeze a little. The touch sets off a round of tremors and I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t cry. This dude thing is hard as fuck when I’m up in my head like this, but I know it will be really suspicious if I burst into tears right now.

“You look like you’re going to fall apart at the seams,” Oriel says softly. “Can I come closer? I don’t want to make this worse, but you seem like you need… reassurance?”

Nodding silently, I continue to hold on to X’s hand as the broody crow shifter scoots over until he’s within centimeters of me. I bite my lip, then look up at him through the strands of hair flopping in my face. He groans, then carefully pulls me into his arms for the best damn hug I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

Oriel feels safer than a fucking armored car, and I have no idea why.

Chuckling, X lifts our twined hands, watching me closely before they put a light kiss on my knuckles. “You, little Kit Kat, are an interesting bit of trouble for our group.”

I turn bright red at the kiss, not sure how to handle it. X is with Anton, for one, and I’m not a damn guy, for the other. There’s so many complicated layers involved in this situation and I do not have the brainpower to parse it out.

Then again, I’m clinging to the loner like a monkey and I have no idea what rules there are around that.

“You guys are being really nice and I hate you have to see this, though.” I sniff, pushing back tears again as I pull back from Oriel’s shoulder. “Everyone keeps saying how cutthroat this place is, and I can handle that. But I also have this thing I have to keep people from knowing because it will make me weak in their eyes.”

More than one thing, right, Kat?

I’m not sure if I imagine the soft brush of lips on the top of my head, but my body warms just the same. After a moment of the two of them looking at one another, Oriel finally speaks. “Kit Kat, X and I are on your side. You can trust us; I know that will take time, but you can. I think the others will be on your side, too, but they need time. Most of them don’t… vibe… like Xerxes and I do.”

“He’s right. Annie is a softie once he’s in and Salem seems to dig you. The rest? We’ll work on after the induction.” X grins a bit and shrugs. “Who the fuck knows when Jasper will remove his head from his big dragon ass, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?”

I nod, letting out a slow breath. “Okay.”

“Now, how about you tell us what you learned while we were searching for you? I don’t give a shit if I miss a class or two and you don’t have any for a bit, right?”

My eyes narrow as I look at the fabulously dressed cobra shifter. “Are you using me as an excuse to skip?”

“Maybe. But you’re a fantastic excuse, Kit Camponella, and don’t you dare suggest otherwise.”

If they put it that way…. How can I say no?