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I plug my ears and walk to the other end of the hallway before answering the Devil's call. "You had me kicked out of class—-"
I had.
"YouknewI'd still be—-" I break off when the implication of his answer really sinks in. "What do you mean youhad?"
I asked your professor for a favor, and he was kind enough to grant it.
Now I'm not sure whether to feel impressed or terrified. How is it that my own Lit professor owes him a favor as well?
Where are you right now?
"Uh, next to the restroom—-"
Perfect.
Go in, please.
I'm dying to say no, but the word still hasn't crossed my lips even as the restroom door swings shut behind me.
You're sospinelesspragmatic, Sheena.
The Devil tells me to get to the last cubicle, and paranoia has me making sure the other stalls are empty before doing as he's asked. I just have this feeling that whatever reason he has for wanting me to be here, it's likely going to get me in trouble—-
Now...tell me what you're wearing.
And I'm right.
"I don't think I can—-"
Can't or won't?
"What if someone comes in and hears me—-"
Then would you rather show me instead?
Aaaargh.
"No, that's not—-"
It's alright, Sheena.
Anything to make you comfortable.
Why is the Devil so good at getting the last word?
Accept the invitation, please.
Polite as always, the Devil is, but...he has to know that manners won't change the fact he's forcing me to do things against my will.Right?I mean, I can say 'defecate' instead of 'shit', but it will still be the same poopy synonym, you know?
Is there a reason for the delay?
Crap.
I hurriedly click 'Yes', and my phone's front camera gets to work.
You look incredibly beautiful in that dress.
Don't you dare take pleasure in that compliment, Sheena!
