75. Rafe
Chapter Seventy-Five
Rafe
I pick up my phone for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, staring at the dark screen.
Summer had sent a picture of the All Souls invitation for the three of us to a group chat we used last year.
It consists of all my brothers, her, and myself.
She didn’t make a new one to omit the one deceased member, and nobody said anything about it.
Summer
Idiot One and Two, guess what we got?
The small picture is partially blurry, but you can see Summer and Alice holding the invitation triumphantly, both of them holding on to me, forcing me into the frame.
My horns are short and twisted into sharp points.
I avoid looking at myself in the mirror as much as possible, but I can’t avoid this picture.
Zach
Fuck off, that’s not real.
Zane
There is no way you’re invited to All Souls before us, even less of a chance RAFE is invited before us.
Zach
Also, Rafe, you look like you have two dicks on your head.
Luke
I think he looks nice.
That pisses off Summer, who immediately goes on the defensive.
Summer
Zach, shut up. You look like a scrotal sac.
Zane
She’s not wrong.
Zach
Send us the invite. It clearly got delivered to the wrong house.
Summer nudges me. “They don’t want to be called a scrotal sac by me. They want to hear it from you.”
I wince and type out a half-hearted reply.
Rafe
Summer is right about the invitation and status of sac faces.
Opening my phone to reply means I have to see all the texts I’ve been ignoring. My stomach turns, seeing how many my mom has sent. At least one a day since I fell. She even includes pictures, but most of them are I miss you. Hope you’re doing well. We love you.
Before I can think better of it, I hit the dial button and put it to my ear. I wasn’t ready for them to see me like this. I’m sure Summer has been sending them updates, but it is different doing it face-to-face.
The phone rings only once before she answers.
“Rafe?” my mother breathes into the phone, and I can easily picture her sprinting to answer. She has a chosen ringtone for each of the kids, and my heart aches knowing one of them will never be heard again.
“Yeah?.?.?. It’s me,” I say shakily. There’s a little strangled sound on her end, and I know she’s trying not to cry. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”
“Rafe, you should always call. I’ve missed you so deeply,” she whispers, her voice clogged with emotion.
There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence.
“We got invited to All Souls,” I blurt out, hoping to fill the space. “It’s an annual party?—”
She laughs through her tears, the sound filling me. It reminds me of her scent and warmth, of a home I no longer belong to. “All Souls, huh? That’s a big deal, Rafe. It’s always been the party, even when I was at school.”
“Right.” I clear my throat.
“How are you?” she asks softly. “Are you adjusting?” She whimpers. “Please, just tell me you’re okay. I need to know you’re okay. Really okay.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. The pain and worry in her voice is proof that I’m a shit son. “I’ve been going to the gym,” I offer lamely.
The gym is still the only time I’ll leave the house.
It still feels risky to cross campus, even early in the morning.
There is always the chance I will lunge at someone and take them down.
I can feel every being who gets too close to the house.
Yesterday, some freshmen dared to knock on the door and run away.
It could have been just an innocent game, trying to rile up the Disaster Duo, or it could be the more insidious assumption that someone knows a demon lives in this house. I really hope it isn’t the latter.
All Souls is a bad fucking idea. I was invited, but I don’t have to go.
Summer and Alice will have more fun without me.
It will be easier to embrace the hedonist paradise if they don’t have to worry about me mauling everyone who comes close.
I know they will try to convince me to go, but it won’t work.
“Summer mentioned you have been seeing her trainer. It’s going well?” More of that hope in her tone leads to more of that twist in my stomach. She deserves a better son, someone who doesn’t feel so different from everyone around them.
“I guess. I’m sorry, Mom, I have to—” I choke on the words, but not because they’re a lie, my truth taste died when I fell. It’s because I simply can’t bear to even say the words .
“Of course, Rafey,” she says, but her voice trembles. “I’m just happy to hear your voice.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Bye.”
“I love—” she begins, but I’ve already ended the call, unable to hear those words from her, unable to say them back, unable to break her heart any more than I already have.
Alice gets home before Summer does, right as I’m grinding brimstone in the food processor. She nods at me, and then her maniacal smile is the only warning I get before she’s using a runed measuring tape to measure my torso. I frown as the enchanted tool wraps around my shoulders.
“Alice, what are you doing?” I ask, my annoyance clear in my tone.
She hums, writing down the numbers that illuminate on the tape as it wraps around me. “Nothing, just research.”
I bat at the tape, and it scrunches up, looking at me. I stare at it, a little impressed that a normally inanimate object is able to project such offense at my interference. “Whatever this is, I don’t want a part of it,” I say, waving my hand between Alice and the measuring tape.
She rolls her eyes. “Listen, I get that you’ve got this angry, broody male look into the darkness, no one can understand my tortured soul thing going on.” I blink at the description. Broody? “But you’re going to All Souls.”
“Alice—” I start, mentally ready to list all the reasons it is a terrible idea for me, a demon, to be surrounded by people, food. But Alice jumps off the stool she’s perched on and opens a cupboard, slapping a bottle of clear liquid against my chest.
I catch it and look down at the label, the word lifegiver written across it in big black letters.
“What is?—”
“I fed Summer that every day for five months. All the nutrients a body needs to survive in harsh conditions.” Alice’s dark eyes slash at me, carving any pretenses away with their unusual intensity.
Usually everything is a game to Alice, and it always ends in murder.
Except Summer. Summer matters to Alice. Even more than I do.
Alice will always choose Summer, and Summer will always choose Alice.
“It kept her alive when all she wanted was to die. ”
“Why are you showing me this?” I ask, rolling the glass jar in my hand.
“To guilt-trip you.” Alice smirks, taking the jar back and putting it away. “If Summer can survive those months, you can suck it up for a few days for her sake.”
I wince. “All right, I get the message.”
She smiles, flashing her fangs. “Plus, if you attack anyone, I’ll just kill everyone present. No witnesses.”
“Thanks? I think.”
“You’re welcome, demon baby. Thank you for your consent to order costumes for you,” she says, swanning up the stairs.
“I didn’t!” I shout after her, but she’s already gone.