A Deal With the Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 2)

Sebastian is already out of his seat, and I feel myself coil, back straightening at the wild look in his eyes. I’d know that shit anywhere. I saw it in my cellmate in juvie, in dozens of guys at Mountain Point, in the worn faces of my community service buddies.

“Hey,” Emory steps in, probably sensing the same thing I am, which is that this Sebastian guy doesn’t just have a temper. This dude is a rag soaked in gasoline. All he needs is a spark.

But just like that, it’s gone. Sebastian quirks a knife-edged smile at Ben before falling back into his chair. After a moment of charged silence, he continues, “My family went upstate for the summer, to the Briar Cliffs.” Everyone nods. The Briar Cliffs are a popular summering hole among the Preston elite. He sniffs, flinging his hair from his eyes. “I was out slumming it one night with one of my boys, and we got into some shit with a few townies. We took it out back, as you do.” He says this like it makes him some kind of upstanding gentleman. “Had a few blows. Caught him in the jaw once, really good. Probably knocked

out some teeth. But then…”

He reaches up to scratch at his jaw, an oddly shy gesture as he diverts his gaze to the floor. “This girl tries to get between us, break us up, right? She can’t be more than like a hundred pounds, sopping wet. She came at me from the side, and I didn’t realize—” His gaze jumps around the room. “I thought it was one of his boys jumping in, because they’re all standing around, watching their buddy get creamed. I didn’t even hesitate, I just.” He buries his fist into a palm and doesn’t need to elaborate.

He does, anyway. “I decked the shit out of her. She fell to the ground like a sack of meat, and for a second, we all just stood there, looking at her.” He barks a dark laugh. “I thought she was fucking dead, to be honest.”

“Was she okay?” Afton instantly pales at having interrupted him. “Sorry.”

Sebastian watches her, maybe sees the fear in her eyes, and narrows his own. “Look, what happened to her was an accident. I don’t hit girls. I fight people who can take me. I fight fair. I’m not like—” Whatever he’s about to say is abruptly bitten off. “She was bleeding, but she was breathing. You could tell I rattled her lights, because her eyes kept rolling around, but then she started screaming.” His throat bobs with a loud swallow, something dark passing over his face. “Like, I’m talking some serious blood-curdling shit. It was like she was possessed or something.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t stick around. With all that noise, someone was bound to call the police. So, we all just…left.”

I hear Vandy’s sharp inhale, but am powerless to stop her screech. “You left her there?!”

I step in front of her about half a second before Emory does, but that just seems to piss Sebastian off more.

“Hey, I said I don’t hit girls!”

“Who’s next,” Emory barks, looking around. This effectively ends Sebastian’s confession, and everyone looks grateful for it—most of all me. I fall back into my seat and wonder if I could even take him. Maybe. I wouldn’t want to find out, though.

Again, the room falls into silence, no one sure what to say. Then Afton thrusts the phone at Aubrey, who turns it on the cheerleader.

She flips her hair over her shoulder and says, “I’ve been having an affair with my dad’s best friend.” The confession hangs in the air, and her shoulders relax a little. “It started a year ago. We were at a family barbecue. I went with him to the garage to get some ice, and next thing I know, we’re fucking on the tool bench.” Her lips curve mischievously. “It was the best sex I’d ever had, and we’ve been hooking up ever since.”

Elana’s eyes bug out, and I can’t help but wonder if she knows who Afton is talking about. Vandy hasn’t moved an inch since I stepped between her and Sebastian, but I can hear her beside me, shifting more uncomfortably at this confession than the others. She may be too pure for this—too innocent—but then again, she’s the one blackmailing me to be in this club in the first place. That’s obviously what her confession is going to be.

“I’m really into it,” Afton continues, “but I know if my dad finds out, he’ll be devastated. Not just because I’m his daughter, but because it’s his friend. I mean, they go way back, they’re almost like brothers. It’s a huge betrayal, which of course makes it even sexier. But I can’t stop seeing him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I won’t.”

Emory and I make eye contact, both of us having the same thought. Afton Cross has major daddy issues. No thanks.

We continue around the circle. Tyson, the new kid from Northridge, runs his hands through his hair a couple of times and admits, “I’m an atheist.”

No one replies until Ben says, “That’s not really a damning secret.”

“Well, it is to my girlfriend, who’s a seriously devout catholic.” He reaches under his shirt and pulls out a chain with a sliver cross attached. “She only dates religious guys and her parents are super strict. I lied when I met her—like, created this fake persona for her and her family, thinking it was no big deal, and now I’m in love with her, so I have to keep up this whole phony life. If she found out, it’d be over. She’d dump my ass so quick.”

I scoff, drawing a few stares, but I don’t need to elaborate. Emory just confessed to a possible sex crime. Sebastian might have hospitalized someone. Poor Aubrey got used and abused by two jocks. Afton is fucking some old dude and she doesn’t even realize how creepy and fucked up it is. Tyson is an atheist? It getting out might ruin a high school relationship?

What kind of weak shit is that?

“Well, that’s all I’ve got,” he finishes, sinking back into his chair.

I’m not sure how anyone else accepts this, but Caroline goes next.

“My mom forged documents and paid someone to take the SATs for me. ‘I’ got a 1540.” Caroline rolls her eyes, shrugging. “She got a few wrong so it wouldn’t look suspicious.”

I narrow my eyes at Tyson. See? That’s something with consequences.

Georgia is a cheerleader, like Afton, and from what I can tell, is a lot nicer than her pimply-faced brother, George. Emory wanted to make sure we had enough Juniors in the Devils to keep it going once we leave. She has wavy red hair and pretty green eyes. Her nails pick at the seam of her jeans when she says, “I told everyone that I went on a six-month foreign exchange program to France during Freshman year. Really, I was in a psychiatric facility for what they called a major depressive event.” She wrings her hands in her lap for a moment, eyes cast down. “But I was just…well, there was this video going around.”

Carlton springs up, “Oh shit! That was you!”

Georgia’s eyes go wide and hunted, and she turns them on Emory. “This stays here, right?”

Emory looks about as confused as I feel. “Uh, yeah. That’s the point.”