Inner Demons (3 page)

Over the course of the next two weeks, I spent every afternoon down in the training room below the gym. We didn't work on a single routine, but when I asked Lark about it, she told me not to worry. We were walking together toward the gym one day after school.

“We never actually work on the routines unless we know someone is watching.”

“Then when do you learn them?” I didn't want to be the only one who didn't know the routines come game time.

“Remember that black diamond necklace Brooke gave you for the tryouts?”

I nodded.

“Similar to that,” she said. “Mrs. King has developed a spell that allows memories and abilities to be stored inside an item. But the genius is that instead of a necklace or something like that, she stores the memory of our routines in our actual cheerleading sneakers. All we have to do is put them on and we just sort of know the routine.”

I laughed. “You've got to be kidding me. How is that even possible?”

“Are you really going to question it after every thing you've seen so far?”

Lark waved to a couple of guys who passed in the hall. I wondered what they would say if she told them her cheerleading routines were stored in her sneakers. They'd send her straight to the looney bin.

“I know,” I said. “It's just still so unbelievable.”

“But you've been doing magic since you were little, right?”

I shrugged. “I guess, but it's not like I knew what it was.”

“Still,” she said. “That's really rare. Most of us didn't even know we had these abilities until we made the squad and Mrs. King taught us what to do.”

“I have a question.” There was something that had been on my mind ever since Mrs. King's first speech about the history of the Order of Shadows.

Lark stopped and studied me. We were near the entrance to the gym, but she hesitated, then stepped to the side of the door. “What is it?”

“If everyone with these abilities is a descendant of a shadow demon, then why are only a few of us chosen to join the Order of Shadows? I mean, Agnes obviously had a lot of power, but she wasn't chosen. Why?”

I hadn't spoken about Agnes much since her death. It was a sore subject for me. I really thought I could trust Agnes. I thought we were friends. Before she tried to kill me, that is.

“I'm not sure,” Lark said. “Maybe there's more to being chosen for the Order than just having natural abilities.”

I couldn't help but wonder what made them choose one girl over another. If we all had the same heritage, didn't we all deserve to know how to use our magic? Didn't we all deserve to know where we came from?

“Don't look so worried about it,” Lark said. She looped her arm through mine and pulled me toward the entrance to the gym. “You were chosen, right? That's all that matters.”

On the outside, I plastered on a smile. What I was really thinking, though, was that behind every secret in the Order, there was an even darker secret.

Time seemed to fly by. I studied my magic every afternoon, then went home and practiced some more. I kept my door closed and my curtains shut tight so that no one could see what I was up to.

Sometimes I got a headache from too much magic usage, but it seemed to be getting better with time. It was fascinating to finally understand how to control this power inside of me.

When I was a little girl, my powers were terrifying. Every time I got upset or angry, I lost control. I didn't understand it, but I blamed myself when my adoptive father, Heath, was killed. It was my fault. To me, that meant my powers were bad. Evil. Dirty.

I never knew they could be used for something so beautiful as creating a shimmering orb of light or healing a wound. Of course, I'd learned through training that some shadow witches have special abilities. Mrs. King was primarily a healer. She couldn't bring someone back to life, but she could heal even the most horrible wounds if she reached the person in time. Not every shadow witch could do that.

Of course, healing was a top level ability. Mrs. King told us it would be dangerous for someone at our low levels to try such a powerful spell. Instead, we started small. Like with the lights. Most of our training focused on physical objects. Moving water from one glass to another or writing on the chalkboard without using our hands. It was definitely fun, but I was anxious to move on to deeper tasks. I knew there was so much more to it than simple telekinesis.

As a result of my practicing, I wasn't spending as much time with Drake. He didn't complain about it or anything, but I could tell he was feeling left out. I promised him that I'd make some time for him after the first game. So far, I'd managed to avoid the topic of Homecoming.

When the day of my first game finally arrived, I couldn't believe how much time had flown by. Nearly two weeks of training was over in the blink of an eye. Soon, I was lacing up my sneakers, putting on my Demons uniform, and getting ready for my first school pep rally.

“Here,” Allison said in the locker room. “Stand still.”

She pulled the backing off of a temporary tattoo and pressed it to the side of my face with a wet paper towel. My stomach turned as I thought about the first time I'd gone to a Demons game. Agnes had worn a Demon tattoo on her face and wanted me to wear one too. She was the ultimate fan girl.

That was also the night she murdered Tori.

I swallowed hard. Hopefully there would be no more deaths. I wasn't sure my sanity could survive it.

“There. Now you look like a cheerleader.”

I forced a smile onto my face. “Thanks.”

“Oh, but you need to take your necklace off,” she said.

I shook my head. “I don't ever take my necklace off.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Fine, then, but you better at least hide it under your uniform.”

I tucked it inside the top of my uniform and headed out into the gym.

Mrs. King had pulled us out of class half an hour earlier for a quick practice. I was even more nervous than I thought I would be. My toes kept tapping against the floor.

Lark had been right about the shoes. The second I slipped them onto my feet, the cheers and routines slipped into my memory as well. I knew them as if I had been practicing them every day for weeks. Unfortunately, that didn't mean I was exempt from screwing up. The shoes held the knowledge and muscle memory of the routine, but they didn't completely take over our bodies and make us perfect.

It wasn't the routines that were making me nervous, anyway. It was the thought of putting myself out there in front of the entire school. I was more comfortable being the girl dressed in black and sitting on the top row in the back corner.

“Don't look so nervous, Harper,” Mrs. King said with a laugh. “You'll be fine.”

I smiled, but I really felt like throwing up. The sensation only got worse as soon as the rest of the student body started rolling into the gym. I had always thought of Peachville High as a small school. Where did all these students come from?

I looked around at the other girls and Brooke caught my eye. She smiled and mouthed, “You'll be fine.”

Lark reached over and squeezed my hand and Allison kicked her foot against my white sneaker. I took a deep breath. Wasn't this the whole reason I wanted to be a part of the squad? In the end, it wasn't about pyramids and cheering on the team. It was about being part of a group. Having friendships that mattered. Belonging to something real for the first time in my life. These girls were just like me. So what if I didn't think I was the cheering type? So what if I had to put aside my black boots for white sneakers and my holey jeans for a short skirt and bloomers? This was my chance to learn more about who I really was. Cheering in front of the school was a small price to pay, even if I did end up embarrassing myself.

“Alright Demon fans,” the principal said into the mic. Everyone cheered and she held a poster high in the air. I couldn't see what it said. “Are we ready for a great pep rally?”

I plastered my best cheer smile across my face and did one more sweep of the gym to look for Drake and the other football players. That's when Jackson Hunt caught my eye.

My stomach flipped over and I felt lightheaded. What was it about that guy?

He was nothing like Drake. Drake was tall and muscular and popular. He got good grades and was the star quarterback of the team. Everyone loved Drake. But Jackson? He was mysterious. Aloof. Unpredictable.

Why was I always seeking him out in the crowd? No matter when or where, if he was in the room, my eyes found him. Today, he was wearing black jeans and a blue t-shirt with some band name on it that I didn't recognize. My breath caught in my chest as he turned toward me. His green eyes were his most charming accessory.

I met his eyes for a moment, then looked away. When I felt him turn away again, my eyes gravitated back to him. He was with a girl I didn't know. I'd seen her around school before, though. I was pretty sure she was friends with Mary Anne, but I'd never actually met her.

She had shoulder-length black hair with bright red streaks going through it like veins, and her tattered clothes looked like hand-me downs. Actually, her long black skirt and white tank top looked like something I would normally wear. Well, pre-cheerleading squad anyway. At my previous schools, she would have been exactly the kind of girl I'd have been friends with. Now, however, I felt a twinge of jealousy for the way Jackson was looking at her. His eyes were focused on her like what she was saying was the most important thing anyone had ever said before.

They both looked at me, and I jumped and turned away. Oh God. They knew I was staring at them. I shook my head and tried to concentrate on what the principal was saying into the microphone, but it was no use. I glanced over to see if they were still looking my way, but they were locked in deep conversation. In fact, it looked like they were arguing.

“Here we go,” Allison whispered behind me.

I threw one final look toward Jackson and the black-haired girl. They were definitely arguing, but about what? Me? Why had they both turned to look at me like that? Before I had time to question it further, Principal Watt was calling the cheerleaders to the front. When I looked over again a few minutes later, Jackson was gone.

That night, the energy in the stadium was contagious. Even though it was an away game, there were tons of fans there from Peachville. So close to the field, the smell of freshly mowed grass was in my nostrils. The roar of the crowd on both sides was deafening. I was so close to the action. I never realized just how exciting it could be to be down here so close to the game. I found myself really getting into the atmosphere of it.

I had no idea what most of the plays were called, but I could tell when Drake threw a great pass, and I obviously knew when the PHS Demons scored a touchdown. Drake was fantastic. He controlled the dynamic of the team. It was as if he were made to play football. I knew I should feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be dating him, but I still hadn't decided if I really liked him or not.

As for my cheering, I didn't do half bad. Not that I could really take all the credit for it, of course. The Demons walked away with yet another victory, making the team 5-0 for the year. By the looks of it, we were the team to beat.

After the game was over, Brooke and several of the cheerleaders grabbed our bags and loaded up onto the football players' bus. Luckily, they'd all taken showers in the guest locker rooms after the game and it smelled faintly like soap and deodorant spray. Drake led me to a seat at the very back of the bus where it was dark and cozy. When I sat down and scooted over to the window, he pulled a blanket out of his bag and handed it to me.

“What's that for?”

He smiled, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I think a blanket is typically used for warmth. You use it to cover your body, see.” He sat next to me and situated the blanket around my legs. “There. I don't want my girl getting cold.”

Every time he referred to me as his girl I felt a little sick to my stomach. He was one of the most gorgeous guys in the entire school, but there was something holding me back. I felt so much pressure when I was around him.

Under the big blue velvety blanket, I felt his hands caress my knee. I swallowed nervously. It wasn't like I'd never been touched by a boy before. It was just that I had a feeling Drake wanted more from me than just a touch on the knee, and for some reason, I wasn't sure I was ready to give more. We'd been dating for several weeks now, but we'd never gotten past kissing and the occasional over-the-clothing groping.

I shivered despite the blanket.

Drake's hand was warm against my cold skin. When I was out on the field, I'd barely noticed how cold I was, but now, my skin felt dry and frozen.

“Wow, you really are cold.” Drake put his arm around me and pulled me close to him. We slumped down deeper in the seat and put our knees up on the back of the seat in front of us.

“I felt fine on the field, but now that I'm sitting still, I'm freezing.”

The bus started up and a few more players made their way onto the bus. Drake leaned over and kissed my neck.

“You looked amazing out there tonight,” he whispered. “I could hardly take my eyes off you.”

I didn't know how to respond to that. “You did great, too.”

He leaned in and covered my mouth with a soft kiss. His lips were so warm and soft. I melted into him, but when his hand slip up my thigh, I jerked away.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to pull away. It's just... I don't know about taking this relationship to the next level on the back of a bus filled with stinky football players.”

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “We all took showers.”

I rolled my eyes. “That's not what I mean.”

“I know. And it's fine. We don't have to do anything, but I hope you'll share that blanket. I don't want to catch a cold.”

“Haha,” I said. “Very funny.”

We settled back down as the bus pulled out of the parking lot. Up front, someone turned on some music. A couple of the guys cheered for some girl who was dancing in the aisles. I sighed and settled back into the seat.

Drake and I had never really talked about past relationships, but I doubted he was a virgin. He was almost eighteen and one of the most popular guys in school. Plus, I knew he'd had a few serious girlfriends. That right there already put him way ahead of me in the experience department. I didn't want to disappoint him, but at the same time, I didn't want to move too fast and do anything I'd regret.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. “You looked like you were contemplating the theory of evolution or something.”

I forced a smile. “I was thinking about you.”

“Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yep. I was thinking about how awesome you looked on that field tonight.” It was always easy to get Drake to talk about himself.

“It was a great game, wasn't it? I really think we've got a shot at getting to the championships this year. My dad's been talking to a couple of recruiters.”

“College recruiters? From where?” I hadn't thought about the fact that Drake would be headed to college next year.

“University of Georgia for one. Maybe Auburn. Florida State.”

“Wow, those are some really good schools.”

“The pressure's really going to be on. It's not like my family needs me to get a scholarship or anything, but I'd love the chance to play college ball.”

It occurred to me how little I really knew about Drake. The one time I'd met his parents, they seemed flat and boring. His mother seemed kind of like a perfect little Stepford wife who always wore just the right outfit and said just the right thing.

He pulled me closer. “I'm thinking UGA is starting to look real good.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because it will put me closer to you next year,” he said.

I squirmed uncomfortably. “That's still kind of far off to be thinking about, isn't it?”

“My mom was actually the one who suggested I think about UGA so we could stay together.” His hand ran up my thigh again and he kissed my cheek.

“Wait, your mother?” I pulled away. “Why would your mom even care?”

Drake sighed. “Because she knows how much I like you. She wants to make sure I make the right choices. Besides, her and my dad met when they were in High School.” He shrugged.

Was he comparing us to his parents? I shook my head and looked out the window. Things were definitely moving too fast.

He turned my face toward his. I held my breath as he stared at me, then brought his lips to mine. The kiss started slowly. I was hesitant. His hand inched higher on my leg. I tried to push him away, but he was persistent. I wasn't sure what I wanted anymore.

“Harper?”

“Yeah?” I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against his arm. I needed to get my balance.

“Will you go to Homecoming with me?”

My stomach tightened. I couldn't very well say no, could I?

“On one condition,” I said.

He smiled. “Okay, let's hear it.”

“You have to promise that if you get a scholarship to a bunch of these schools, you won't choose UGA just because of me.”

His smile faded. I didn't say what he expected to hear. He seemed to think it over for a second. “Okay,” he said. “If it's that important to you.”

It was that important. I didn't want Drake making decisions about his distant future based on our month-old relationship. Most girls probably would have been excited to hear him talk about the future, but it made me feel uncomfortable. Pressured. Like he was claiming ownership of me. Hell, I wasn't even sure where I wanted to go to school or even if I planned to go to college at all. And if I wasn't ready to make those decisions about my own future, how could I be comfortable with someone else basing their decisions on me?

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I'm just tired.”

I laid my head against his shoulder. We didn't talk the rest of the ride home.