Chapter Thirty-Five
“Is college everything you hoped it would be?” asks Mom.
It’s a big question, and it comes out of nowhere. We were in the middle of our call, and we were just talking about how well her latest painting has been going, and now she’s surprised me with this.
It’s been nearly two weeks since Zarmenus and I were called to Leeke’s office, and things have settled into a predictable routine. Everything has been strangely normal. Or, as normal as possible, all things considered. One night our floor disappeared, replaced with an endless black void.
But other than that, things are steady. I love all my classes, and Zarmenus has stuck with his promise of being a better roommate.
He’s even started coming to all the Gaymers meetings, which I’ve enjoyed.
If Tyrell suspects us, he hasn’t said anything, and if Adam is still trying to convince people we’re not a real couple, it’s not working.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’d say so.”
Speaking of, Zarmenus is currently by his side of our closet, trying to pick out an outfit while I talk to Mom. We’re going to a tailgate organized by the school, and after that we’re going to a football game with the Point Piranhas going up against the Trinity College Lions.
I’m excited, mostly because I’ve figured out a way to take the night off from schoolwork, which has been getting so intense I spend most of my time thinking about it.
I’ve put a lot of hours in at the library, and not because I want to avoid Zarmenus, although the threat of a supernatural horror in our room does make the library a slightly more appealing study space.
“I’m glad,” she says. “And how is Zarmenus?”
I feel a little guilty having to lie to Mom and Dad about our relationship. As far as they know, we’re really boyfriends. I know it’s the right call, though. They can’t be trusted with a secret like this. I’m sure they’d accidentally give us away.
“He’s good,” I say.
“Oh, your father’s home,” she says. “And he has news.”
She hands her phone to him.
“I got fired!” he says.
His upbeat tone does not, in any way, match what he said.
“What?” I ask. “Why?”
“There was some cooperate restructuring, and my position is no longer needed. But it’s good news, Owen, because I already got a new job!”
“This happened a few weeks ago,” says Mom, filling in the blanks. “We decided not to tell you, because we know you have a lot going on.”
I go quiet for a moment as that sinks in. All this was happening and I had no idea?
“You could’ve told me,” I say.
“I know,” says Dad. “But we didn’t want you to worry. The good thing is that it all worked out! I’m actually getting a fifteen percent pay raise, and we’re using the severance to go to Ireland.”
It makes sense: they’ve both wanted to go to Ireland, where Dad was born, for years.
I haven’t heard Dad this excited in a long time.
The coffee shop failing sucked a lot of the joy out of him.
But this makes sense. Plus, this way he’ll never have to see his old boss again, the man who had made his life miserable for nearly a decade.
“I always say when one door closes another opens,” he says. “You just have to keep your hopes up. Anyway, we’ll let you get back to it, give our best to Zarmenus.”
“All right, love you. And that’s great, Dad. I’m so happy for you.”
“Love you, too.”
I end the call and catch Zarmenus watching me.
“It’s so cute the way you talk to your parents,” he says. “How are they doing with the whole empty-nest thing?”
“Pretty good, I think,” I say. “They’re eating at a lot of restaurants, which they never used to. Dad always sends me the pictures. How are your parents handling it?”
“Mom never talks about her feelings, so I’m not sure about her. But Dad apparently misses me a lot. He’s started training for the bloody triathlon. It’s one of the hardest physical tests in Hell, and it’s all he talks about now. Hey, is this shirt cute?”
He’s holding up a black shirt that honestly doesn’t look that different from his other black shirts.
“Or I could wear that shirt you gave me,” he says before I can answer. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
He puts it on, and it makes me laugh. Seeing Zarmenus in linen is something I never expected. He looks so cute, and younger than he usually does. Normally he looks at least a little dangerous, but now he looks surprisingly wholesome.
“Oh shit, we’re going to be late,” he says. “Hurry up and get ready.”
Who is this boy, and what happened to Zarmenus?
Zarmenus lets go of my hand.
We’ve been holding hands for practically the entire day.
We held hands all throughout the tailgate, which ended up being really fun.
We ate the best chili I’ve ever had, and we weren’t attacked by any demon hunters or bothered by any paparazzi.
Now we’re way back in the bleachers of Point’s football stadium, surrounded by a sea of students, waiting for the game to start.
“Bathroom,” says Zarmenus. “Be back soon, babe.”
He plants a kiss on the top of my forehead. Avery, who is seated down the row from us, pretends to gag.
Before the tailgate, we hung out in Tyrell’s dorm room, where he played music and people drank.
Zarmenus and I sat side by side on Tyrell’s bed, our hands interlocked.
For almost the entire time, we were holding hands.
It’s all for our act. But there’s no denying how much I liked it. Even if it’s fake, it’s magical.
“I’m so jealous,” says Tyrell, pulling me from my thoughts and back into the stadium. “I miss Myron.”
As relieved as I am that he believes us, the now familiar sting comes back. Will we even hang out like this once the truth comes out?
I think about telling him the truth, but it’s too risky. Between his social media and the articles that he’s writing for Point, he would be the worst possible person to figure out about our lie. If he chose to, he could spread the word to the entire world in minutes.
“So things are going well?” asks Tyrell.
“Yeah, he’s amazing,” I say. “I’m so lucky. How are you? I love your stories by the way, I read them as soon as they’re posted.”
“Thanks. I’m okay. Truth be told I’m pretty worn out. Leeke’s practically writing everything that gets posted on her own now. It’s not really what I wanted, you know? I feel like I’ve sold out and the worst part is I’m not even getting paid.”
“You could quit?”
“No way,” he says. “This might not be ideal, but it’s for my future. I’m a freshman with national exposure, and last week I had a journalist at the New York Times reach out to say how much they love my work. I can put aside my morals if it means I get the future I want.”
He has no idea how much I can relate.
“All right, folks,” calls an announcer, their voice booming around the stadium. “Give it up for the Point cheerleaders and Petey the Piranha!”
The Point cheerleaders run out onto the field to the song “Bat Out of Hell,” but that’s not the thing that’s concerning.
It’s the piranha, who is dressed in a devil costume.
He runs out into the middle of the stadium, and is lit by flashing orange lights.
The guitars on the song wail, and the routine begins.
Petey strums his giant fake guitar while the cheerleaders tumble and flip around him.
Across from me, I see Zarmenus as he returns from the bathroom. He’s now holding two paper cones of bright orange cotton candy, and doesn’t yet seem to have noticed the Hell-themed show going on below. He reaches his seat and offers me one of the cotton candies before sitting.
“For you,” he says.
“Thanks, babe,” I say, trying out the word for the first time.
Avery makes a retching noise. The song switches to “Gives You Hell” by the All-American Rejects.
The cheerleaders have now produced ribbons of red and orange, twirling them around as if to mimic flames. I brace for Zarmenus to be outraged or offended, which he might very well have the right to be.
Instead, he laughs. He turns his head, catching me gauging his reaction.
“What?” he says. “It’s funny.”
“It doesn’t offend you?”
“Not at all,” he says. He leans in close to whisper in my ear. “The prophecy, remember? This means I’m doing my job right.”
Once the routine is done, the game starts. There are screens around the stadium, and I recognize one of the players on the Point team.
He’s one of the guys Zarmenus brought to our room back when we were just roommates.
I feel a stab of jealousy.
But it’s not worth thinking about, because we’re not a real couple. I have no right to feel jealous.
Zarmenus nudges me, pulling me out of the thought spiral. He’s already nearly finished with his cotton candy. He’s silent, but his free hand is turned to the side, an open offer. I think about turning him down because I want to hold his hand so badly, and to indulge that is risky.
I take his hand. Like last time, I marvel at how warm it is and how nice this feels.
I’m glad he doesn’t have the magical ability to read minds.