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At least he’s sexy… Whoa, where did that come from?
“Okay.” Ethan nodded at me but I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“Okay, then.” I nodded back… I was going to date the devil.
Date?
Urgh, oh Lord help me, I thought as I left the room for the second time today. This time I went straight to my room, wishing I hadn’t when I saw Helen on my bed.
“Please go; my head is mess and I have no idea what is going on,” I whined, walking over to my bed and falling on top of it. I grabbed my pillow and put it over my head.
“Gabriel?”
“Don’t say his name!” I held up my hand to stop her. “Just hearing about him right now gives me a migraine. He’s just…ugh! What is his problem? A rational person would be running yet there he is, saying he could give me everything! How? Where? When? He pops out of nowhere and says he wants to marry me? Me! Does he not know I’m not the marrying type? I’ll fight him every day of his life and he’ll go bald from pulling out his hair. We might go bald from pulling out each other’s hair. On top of that, he has no boundaries. He’s just in my face pretending to be Casanova… What if he tries to be romantic now? I don’t do well with romantic. I’d tell him to ask Toby but… You know he’s dead. Which should be his clue to run away! Why is he not running away!”
“Donatella, look at me.”
“Why?” I lif
ted the pillow off my face to look at her. She grinned so wide I thought her face would crack. “What?”
“You were rambling.”
“What?”
“You were rambling!”
“I don’t ramble!”
“You just did. Since we were little, this is the most normal you’ve been…ever. You’re like a regular girl.”
“Fuckin’ shite.” I stared at her in horror and not even jokingly, I blessed myself with the sign of the cross. Because of him, Gabriel, the book nerd devil… I had Shakespeare on my mind. Specifically, The Tempest: Act 1, Scene 2, Line 215: Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.
FOURTEEN
“Here’s all you have to know about men and women:
Women are crazy,
men are stupid.
And the main reason women are crazy
is that men are stupid.”
~ George Carlin
HELEN
Was I supposed to be annoyed or happy that he never changed? I wasn’t sure, and the more I stared at the text message on my phone, the more confused I became.
Dona was usually a light sleeper; however, her mind must have overworked itself, explaining the almost comatose state she was in. Rising from the bed, I changed into jeans and one of her shirts, before leaving her room. Part of me felt like I was sneaking around, afraid my father would catch me and wonder what the heck I was doing out bed so early in the morning… But the much more rational part of me knew I was old enough, and free enough, to move about the house however I chose. It still felt weird though. It must have been the goody-two-shoes in me.
Stepping into the elevator, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, nearly drifting back to sleep. Had it not been for the chime as the elevator doors opened, I would have crashed. Walking forward into the kitchen, there he was, making damn waffles.
“How many do you want?” he asked as he carefully took his seventh waffle out of the iron and reached for more batter.
“Wyatt, can’t you think of healthier foods to make when you’re annoyed?” I asked, moving to sit at the kitchen island in front of him.
