The Devil Inside

29: This Fairytale Doesn't Have A Happy Ending

"Stephanie?" Cooper blurted. He couldn't mask his shock—or his disgust, for that matter. For some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he'd kissed her. His lips burned at the memory.

Astrid Baker, my ass. He shot Calla a scandalized look. "How do we always get it so wrong?"

She scowled back at him. "This is not the time or the place for that conversation."

"Lover's quarrel?" Stephanie crooned.

"Fuck you," Calla said evenly, moving to stand directly in her line of sight. She glanced over at Cooper, eyes dark with warning.

Whatever happens, just...focus on Vincent. Nothing else. Got it?

Stephanie clucked her tongue and withdrew a dull black object from the waistband of her jeans. A gun, Cooper realized, horrified. Where the hell did she get a gun?

"Such a temper." She brandished the weapon like a pair of ceremonial scissors. Cooper suddenly understood how she'd managed to lure Vincent to the school. A pistol to the head could be quite convincing. "I didn't know you had it in you." 

Calla was drawn taut as a bow. Her focus never wavered from the gun in the other girl's hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb," Stephanie said, pouting like a child. She began to circle them. The sound of her heeled boots echoed across the gym. Clack. Clack. Clack. "That's no fun. No fun at all."

"Is that what this is about?" Calla raised a skeptical brow. "Having fun?"

"Yes and no." Stephanie stood directly behind them now, having continued her circuit around the basketball court at a leisurely pace. Cooper moved as if to face her, and as he did so, he took a surreptitious step to the right—one foot closer to Vincent. If Stephanie noticed, she didn't let on. "This is your fault, you know. Because you didn't play by the rules."

Calla's right hand flickered, moving to her back pocket. "Rules," she repeated dully. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."

Stephanie paused. "You took away my plaything." Her eyes slid to Vincent, hungry. "Now I'm going to take away yours."

You took away my plaything. Cooper inched further to the right. "You're talking about Cory," he guessed, stalling for time. "Because he was your date to the gala, like, one time?" He scoffed in a show of false bravado. "I really don't get the allure. The guy was...what, an eight on a good day?" He looked to Calla for confirmation. "Was he a good kisser, or something? Because I'm just not seeing what the fuss is all about."

Calla shot him an exasperated look. We have to keep her distracted, he tried to say, widening his eyes to convey his intentions. Something flickered in her expression. Understanding, maybe. But then it was gone just as quickly.

Stephanie curled her lip at their exchange. "Yes, Cory was plenty pretty to look at. Until Calla ruined him." She frowned down at the gun, considering it with distaste. "I read the autopsy report. You really did a number on him."

"He was trying to kill us." Cooper glared at her. "What were we supposed to do? Hold hands?"

"You were supposed to die." Stephanie rolled her eyes, as if this were obvious. "All three of you."

You were supposed to die. Cooper stared at her, stunned. "You mean..."

Calla barked out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich. You were helping him, weren't you?" She folded her arms. "The Robin to Cory's Batman."