[PART TWO: Liz]

Dear Bec, the problem with being a sunflower,

Is that you don’t get to choose the sun’s hour.

Still, don’t spit at doves and call them vultures.

Because in doing so, it’s moonlight you’ll usher.

9th Grade. The amount of shit you’d have to stack up just to match that year would have stretched across at least three separate planes of existence. Short people, peanut butter, the smell of weed, people who aren’t religious but claim to be“spiritual”, Sword Art Online, I-Phone users, armpit sweat, and calculus, all combined into one couldn’t even equate to half of how awful 9th Grade was, and all of it, all of it, was my fault. I want to blame Lucifer, but he’s barely even a catalyst. Me, and this dick of mine ruined… ruins everything.

I mean, of course, there were highlights. Sure, Alex went to a different high-school (after she ghosted me on all platforms), but I had made new friends. Jacob Greene, a British, short, yet somehow attractive guy who wore way too many rings for a virgin, and Franchesca Reyez, who… is a great person.

I met these two in detention (as it would turn out, the stick up Mrs. Greenwell’s ass is longer than me and thicker than Mrs. Greenwell), and we instantly clicked. It was such a strong connection that it actually surprised me that I didn’t immediately fall in love with Frankie. I remember thinking then that as long as I didn’t catch feelings for anyone and burrowed into this friendship as deep as I could, nothing like what went down last year would ever happen again.

Fucking dumbass.

Also, I know I said shaking Lucifer’s hand would ruin the next few years of my life, but I feel like the I should point out that that is technically false. Like, don’t get me wrong, trying to get laid in an attempt to get rid of Lucifer was a bad idea and would definitely fuck me in the ass, but technically, the truth is that the first of those three years would be fucked by me, and quite honestly me alone. I only wish I had known this sooner.

With that said, the first time I attempted to kill Lucifer Heart was towards the end of my first semester in high school. I was in the cafeteria, eating lunch with Jacob and Frankie. We were talking about this senior named Adam Cook, who quite obviously was trying to swan dive into Frankie’s pants. Back then, it was funny, cool even, but looking back on it now, it makes me want to spit. We were too short to see his eyes, so we trusted in his fists bumps and party invitations.

“It’s really not that deep.” Jacob said, reaching for his sandwich “Do you like him?”

Frankie took a bite of her chocolate bar. “I don’t know, I don’t think so. But if he asked me out I’d probably say yes.”

Jacob blinked. “Huh? Why?”

She shrugged. “He’s got a car. And money.”

“Money’s good.” I said, wiping the Dorito-dust on my fingers on Frankie’s arm.

“Hey, stop!” She whined, “Nasty ass.”

“Okay, but like, his chin is an actual triangle.” Jacob said, looking at us like this was supposed to mean anything.

Frankie and I looked at each other, before turning back to him.

“You’re not wrong,” I said, pulling out another Dorito, “but you’re also British so…”

Frankie took another bite of her chocolate. “Yeah, that’s like asking me to listen to the opinion of a zebra.”

He glared at us as be picked up his sandwich. “Yeah but zebras aren’t bloody real.”

“Ha!” I yelled, “He said the word!”

“Bloodeee!” Frankie sang, rubbing the peach-colored birthmark on her neck.

Jacob’s glare tightened as he bit into his sandwich.

“Look man,” I said, “everyone knows British People aren’t real.”

Frankie nodded. “You mean to tell me there’s a random ass island in the middle of nowhere, and they just go around drinking tea, and making human sacrifices to immortal queens?”

“Sounds like bloodee hogwash.” I said, nodding as well.

“Didn’t we like, used to own you guys’ countries?” Jacob said.

“Uh, no. We were owned by daddy-Spain, get it right.” Frankie said.

God, we were insufferable.

“Oh my God, I love those!”

We turned to see Liz Williams, pointing at Frankie’s Hersheys Cookies N’ Creme with a beaming smile on her face.

Instantly, Jacob and I were smitten. Of course, Liz was popular, so we knew of her, but she seemed so much shiner up close. I head Lucifer chuckle behind me, and even back then I knew I was going to have trouble keeping my dumbass promise.

“Yeah, they’re the only chocolate I eat.” Frankie said, taking a bite. “Want some?”

Liz shook her head before reaching into her backpack and pulling out a ziplock bag filled with buttons and various candies.

Jacob looked up from her tits. “What you got there?”

“These,” she said, pulling out a handful of buttons, “are part of my presidential campaign.”

I didn’t look up from her tits. “You’re running for president?” I asked.

Liz nodded with a proud grin. “Listen, Jessica Miller is a bitch.”

Frankie tossed what was left of the chocolate in her mouth. “I don’t know who that is,” she said through her munching, “but I like your hairpin so I’m going to agree that Jessica Miller is a bitch.”

“Thank you,” Liz said with a smile, fiddling with her crimson hair pin, “but really. Jessica copied my paper, and Mrs. Greenwell-”

“Who has a stick up her ass.” I interjected.

“-Who has a stick up her ass, didn’t know who to believe and gave us both a ‘C’. Can you believe it? A ‘C’?!”

Jacob shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“Thankfully it wasn’t! And now that bitch Jessica wants to run for class president? After sticking her dick in my plans to become valedictorian, she wants to be in charge of our grade? Fuck no!”

The moment the words “sticking her dick in my” spewed from Liz’s mouth, I fell in love like a light switch. I don’t think the distinction of “real” love is a real thing, since love is just electrical impulses and hormones, after all, but even so. If there was such a thing as “real” love, this definitely wasn’t it.

It didn’t make a difference to me, though. Alex was gone, so I guess I needed someone to pine after, someone to give me purpose, and to my surprise, it wasn’t Frankie. It was Liz Williams, the class potty-mouth, and as it would turn out, president.

I looked up from her tits, and sunk into her eyes.

“You’re aiming for a position of mass responsibility, purely out of spite?” I asked.

My gaze fell to her lips, and like the tool I was, I watched them twist and contort as she said- “correct.”

“Well,” Frankie said, unscrewing the cap of her orange juice, “you’ve got my vote. I bet Jessica smells like cabbages.”

Jacob grinned. “Yeah I’m sure she’s an arsehole, you got my vote as well.”

The three of them turned to me, and I pulled myself out of her lips, doing my best to ignore how the upward tilt of Lucifer’s chuckling bled into the sounds coming from the students around us. Breathe, Tobe. Breathe.

“I’ll think about it.” I said, trying to sound as neutral as I could. As if my heart wasn’t turning my ribcage into a drum set. As if my dumbass wouldn’t walk home and spend all my time thinking about Liz and her acrobatic lips.

“Fuck, yeah!” Liz exclaimed. She dropped several buttons on our table as well as a handful of jolly ranchers.

The buttons only read, ‘VOTE LIZ’ in cheap, scratchable print, and the jolly ranchers were any color but yellow, but the corniness of it all only made me fall harder.

I blinked, and Lucifer was just there, floating on his belly above Jacob’s head. He rested his head on his hands, and swung his legs back and forth behind him. His grin made me shiver.

“What happened to your promise?” He said.

Ignore him, Tobe.

“I thought you were just going to live out this year without any drama.”

Ignore! People are gonna think you’re crazy!

“Aren’t you?”

Fuck you.

He chuckled, before floating over to Liz, who I had just noticed was heading back to her table. Lucifer gestured towards her ass, and I wish I could say I didnt look, but I did. My eyes drifted down the curve of her back and landed on her jeans, watching as-

“Tobe!” Jacob called, snapping me back to life. My head swivelled to him.

“We were talking about Adam.” Frankie said. It was obvious from her voice that she knew what I was looking at, and was at the very least slightly pissed that I was ignoring her.

“Adam?” I said, scrambling to redirect things, “Don’t tell me the brit is still giving you love advice?”

Jacob groaned as he bit into his sandwich, and Frankie cackled, pointing at the brit in question and his dumb brit sandwich. Amidst their banter, I turned to glare at Lucifer, who was clutching his sides, barely holding in his laughter.

My blood simmered as I reached into my jacket pocket to grip the knife.

I was going to kill that rat bastard, whatever it took.