Slate Gray

Chapter 2: Ace Slate

Our bus lurches forward, empty except for us and the driver, as I dig through my backpack. The last rays of the sun disappeared an hour ago but I've determined that the harsh bus lights are bright enough to read by. Hoisting the chemistry textbook into my lap, I cram my mouth with a few more Pringles and lose myself to the study of the Periodic Table of Elements. I'm this close to having the whole thing memorized.

But academic advancement isn't the only reason to bury my face in a book. Bowed over the pages, I untuck my hair and hide my shame behind the long, dark curtains. It took me weeks to gather all that information on Stanfill and his victims. Multiple trips to the library to use their printer. Scouring the recesses of the internet for crime scene photos and dossiers. Hiding it all from the two people who would put the kibosh on the whole case if I didn't present it in the right way. And within the first hour, at only a minor amount of demonic activity, I'm scared and shivering? It's disappointing and frankly, embarrassing. There's no way I'm letting my sister see what my face is doing a horrendous job of hiding. 

"You know, given the circumstances," she drawls, extricating the Pringles can from my absentminded grip. "I'm sure Dad will give you an extension if you're behind on a paper."

"I'm not behind on anything," I counter, ducking my head further towards the page. "I just wanna get my GED by the time I'm seventeen. I don't wanna wait till the last second like you."

"At least I got it."

  "Barely."

Perrin shakes the can for the cracked chips at the bottom and tips them into her mouth. "I just don't see the point in all that higher learning," she chews. "I've already picked my profession. And it's not like there's a state university offering a degree in demon slaying."

"If there was, you'd be gone within the first week." A smile creeps across my face. Teasing her always puts me in a better mood. "You don't play well with others."

"Objection." Holding up a finger, she punishingly pokes it into my most ticklish spot, right under my armpit. "I play fine with others. Just not violent weirdos. And most of the slayers I've met fall somewhere along that spectrum."

"Yourself included?" My hair swings out of my face as I bow away from her merciless finger, batting it to the side.

She clicks her tongue. "I don't know what you're implying. I'm a model citizen. A God damn angel."

"Angel of Death, maybe."

Perrin gasps in faux indignation and hooks an arm around my neck, trapping me in a headlock. I tug against her, but its futile. Even when I bring up my hands to push, I barely budge.

"Really?" she asks, watching me struggle. "This is you trying?"

"Not all of us can have tree trunks for arms," I crack back. But damn, yeah, I can't get out.

"Tree trunks?! Alright, I've had enough of your sass." Clamping me closer, she snatches the book from my lap. "You're officially banned from all homework. For the next twenty-four hours, you're not allowed to learn or read a single thing." The book lands in the seat next to her with a muffled thump.

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," I whine. "It's unconstitutional."

"You're out in the field now, baby. We're all cruel and unusual here." She then hoists my backpack and deposits it on top of the book. "You'll get these back when you prove your IQ has dropped at least five points."

She allows me to shove her off and I use the momentum to skate an extra seat over. There I pretend to pout, crossing my arms and slouching nearly to the floor. "You never let me do anything fun."