Deals With The Devil's Spawn

Badly-written CW Teen Drama

The light was streaming in at just the right angle, a soft breeze blowing in through the open garage door, tickling the hair at my nape, a soft, happy sigh on my lips as I gently swept the brush over the half finished canvas. This was shaping up to be the perfect day.

Which of course only meant something was about to go terribly wrong.

I knew better by now. In my world there were never any perfect days. I could never fool myself into thinking that my bad days were over. They never would be.

I didn't even realize they were in my garage until one of them cleared their throat, and that had been my mistake. My mom always did tell me that I should pay more attention to what was going on around me; I probably should have listened, instead of rolling my eyes and waving her off.

"You know you're a perfect cliche," the beautiful blonde, standing in the middle of my garage, mused, as her eyes swept over the room, a smirk pulling at her lips at the paintings of Brayden. "The moderately pretty, tragic, girl next door. Does he know what you did, Porter? Does he know you're far from the girl next door?"

I couldn't help but shift nervously, my heart racing in my chest, as I slowly stood up, the blade in my pocket burning a hole through my jeans. My mind racing with the endless escape plans I'd continuously perfected until they became reparative.

"Does he know what you're capable of? What you're capable of doing to your own father?" Camila continued on, her eyes traveling down my body, before meeting mine once again. "You may have Brady fooled, sweetie, but the rest of us know the truth."

"What do you want, Camila?" I replied, trying to find the courage that I didn't have. I knew Camila, and I knew what she was capable of, the girl never played fair, and if you knew what was good for you, you stayed away. I'd learned that by now. She'd made sure I had from the minute word about Brayden and I had gotten around. She and her little group of friends had been the worst of the bullies I'd come to encounter.

"I want many things, darling, but most of all, I want you to disappear. Unfortunately, this is real life and not some overhyped, badly-written CW teen drama, and I can't just make you go away with my mind," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "So you and I are going to make a little deal."

Clenching my jaw shut, I lifted my chin defiantly. "I know better than to get in bed with the devil, Camila."

"It's too bad you don't really have a choice," she shrugged, inspecting her nails, "At least not if you want to keep your little secret a secret."

I shook my head, huffing out a breath. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"A threat, warning, whatever you want to call it, makes no difference to me," she shrugged, flashing me a sweet smile. To any onlookers she might look like someone giving me friendly advice, but I knew what laid behind that smile.

Moving around the room, she let her eyes roam around the small area littered with paintings, and I couldn't help but stand in front of the painting of Brayden at his game, as if trying to protect it from her prying eyes. Catching on to that small movement, she gave me a condescending smile.

"Does he know that you're obsessed with him? Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the nut tree, huh?" She snorted, and the three girls, who until then had remained quiet, only smirking whenever their little leader made a threat, giggled.

"I may be nuts, Camila, but at least I'm not desperate," I blurted out, wanting to slap myself when her eyes turned cold, the smirk falling from her lips, replaced by an angry glare. Stalking towards me, she gripped my jaw forcefully when she reached me, forcing my eyes to meet hers.