What would you trade your soul for?
The answer is simple for Jessa: nothing. Life isn't perfect, but it's pretty good with her best friend Taylor at her side.
But everything changes when the Devil--disguised as an attractive high school girl--comes...
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Do you ever go online and watch those reels of someone doing something stupid and it just plays on repeat over and over and over again? That's what my brain was doing the rest of the afternoon. Only instead of replaying a girl tripping over a bucket and falling face first into a pie, it was replaying my interaction with Taylor and Clarissa.
"I was so awkward," I explained to Lana. We were in my room, getting ready for the party. I had already helped Lana choose her outfit—a pair of tight skinny jeans and a black shirt with the shoulders cut out—and we were now standing in front of my full-length mirror, trying to get the last few things in place. Lana was crouched low, drawing on winged eyeliner, while I was trying to wrangle my hair into something presentable and failing miserably. "It was like I forgot how to speak or something."
"But why was it so awkward?" Lana asked.
I shrugged, glancing over Lana's shoulder as I attempted a high bun. It looked awful, so I pulled my hair out of the knot and tried again. "I don't know. Everything felt off. Like... I guess I just didn't expect Clarissa to be there. Taylor said she wanted to debrief, but how could we do that with her date next to her?"
"But isn't that a good thing? Like, the fact she brought Clarissa with her must mean she had an awesome date and didn't want it to end."
"I guess... But don't you think it's a little fast? Like she just met the girl for the first time in person this morning. And then she brought her to the lacrosse game, and then they went to see a movie, and now she's coming to this party. Taylor told me she was gay like three days ago, and it was this huge secret, and now she's flaunting this girl around without a care in the world."
"Love can make you do crazy things."
I rolled my eyes. "This isn't love. This is infatuation."
Lana dug through her makeup bag, swapping the eyeliner out for mascara. "You sound jealous."
Her statement made me pause in disbelief. "What?"
"Hey, it's understandable," Lana said. "It's like everyone around you suddenly caught the love bug. Me, Taylor... even Peter Thatcher, for Devil's sake." She waggled the mascara brush at me. "Love is blossoming all around you. You're allowed to be jealous."
"Isn't jealousy one of the seven deadly sins?" I said.
"Technically it's envy," Lana explained. "And don't look at me like it's my fault you're feeling jealous. Sins are human-made, not the work of the Devil, despite what they say in church." She stood up. "That said, all jealousy isn't bad. Maybe this is the kick start you need to join all the love fun!" She paused suddenly and tilted her head. "Your hair is a mess."
"I know," I groaned.
She gestured for the hair tie. I handed it to her, she had me sit on the bed, and she started to work.
"When I first met you," she said, fingers deftly weaving through my hair, "you told me you didn't like anyone in town. That you were in no rush to find a boyfriend. Were you telling the truth?"
