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Dropping my bag down on the ground in front of the fountain, I take a seat and flip open my notebook and read through the shit I need to go on the hunt for this week, making a mental note to find the wrestling coach this week.
I sigh and look up at the building.
This fucking school is gigantic with it’s crazy gothic-like spokes and sharp rooftops. The outside looks like it could have been the mansion to a mythical monster back in theveryolden days. When I first drove onto the property this morning, my attention was on the architecture of the building, the steep slopes of the roofs, the towers in the four corners–all that was needed was an alligator infested mote. Then the fountain, which I had somewhat spied the night of the party, took up full residence in my mind.
Even now, as I sit here before it, I know I’ll never get enough time to truly take in the beauty of it. Closing the notebook, I spin on the fountain edge, putting my left boot up on the cement as I stare at the craftsmanship and creativity.
Sounds of laughter and whistles happen all around me as more and more students come out from the building, but my focus is on the statue.
On other fountains that I’ve seen, especially the ones that have been around for longer than most, there’s usually moss or algae growing on the stone beneath the flowing water, but that is not the case for this one. I’m sure this overly wealthy university has their own statue cleaners.
I lean back on one arm and look up at the statue, blowing smoke through my nose, as my fingers brush against something cold within the cement. I stand and step closer to it, inspecting the very ornate plate.
‘Humanity spoke and La Muerta answered.’
“Creepy, right?” Val’s voice pulls my attention from the plaque. She rubs her hand up and down her arms as she looks at the face of the dead man at the bottom of the statue.
I look up at La Muerte, taking in her golden skull face. There’re no eyes within the black sockets, but it still feels as though she’s watching me, searching my being for worthiness. It reminds me of how Val looks at me sometimes. It reminds me of my hidden sin, and I find myself wanting to leave.
“I wouldn’t say creepy. More likepowerful.” Val doesn’t reply, she just continues to stare.
My mother’sofrendahad the statue ofVirgen de Guadalupe, but she refused to ever put up La Muerte like my father wanted.
He comes from a long line of zealous believers, but my mother called them death worshippers because his family were cartel soldiers, making runs across the border into the United States with drugs, weapons and humans. For them, La Muerte was supposed to keep them and their illegal goods safe from authorities.
It's difficult to comprehend when you weren’t raised in the culture as he was.
I never tried to understand it because I honestly wanted nothing to do with what either of my worthless parents believed in, but standing here now, I feel as though I have some sort of kinship with the goddess of death.
What does she represent to Coventry, to Calavera Society?
I wrap my arm around Val’s shoulders and pick up my backpack, steering us toward the parking lot. I’m determined to learn as much as I can about Coventry’s beliefs but mostly, I want to know who their society worships.
THIRTY-FOUR
* * *
‘LION’ SAINT MESA
It’s beena month since classes began and September has brought with it a bone deep chill. Sometimes, I think it’s Coventry that settled this unrelenting iciness within me. There are traces of evil everywhere I look. Sure, it’s all covered up with wealth and designer names, but every breath I take feels like I’m breathing in thick smoke laced with unholy corruption.
I shake myself from those thoughts, doing my best to ignore how the air seems to be getting heavier the closer we get to Halloween.
Football season is at its peak and Mateo has invited us to watch him play. And by invited, I mean demanded. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but I've noticed he likes to do whatever Rey hates, and apparently getting as close as he can to us is how he does it. How those two are friends is beyond me since it seems all they do is fight each other on everything. Sure, they’re not about airing their dirty laundry in front of people, but I see it. It’s similar to how Noah and I were for a minute there, but we got past it before we began alienating one another. Though I have to say it’s pretty fucking telling that we even came that close to becoming frenemies.
On the upside, Mateo hasn’t had an episode like he did on the first day of classes, but once in a while, especially when Nimona is around, he seems to turn into someone else. Someone ruthless, evil and on the verge of snapping. Nimona is about as unhinged as he is because she has literally no hesitation to antagonize him like having her life threatened is nothing but a game to her.
Nimona goes to his games like it's her religion, only she goes to purposely cheer for anyone but her stepbrother. It makes me giggle when I think about it. Unlike Mateo or Rey, I’ve grown quite close to Nimona. She’s still in high school but that girl is probably the most chillrucaI’ve ever hung out with and she’s sure to become CU’s next queen B.
I’m unsure what Rey is into. Noah told me about their little hallway tango weeks ago and how Rey seems to be in every class as him, but I’ve heard little else. That’s best though. I want nothing to do with that prick. Besides, I’m a lot more interested in seeing Noah practice for the wrestling team. He’s been trying to get me to join him in the gym, and like the weakling I am, I give in to his pleading. My legs burned for two weeks straight, and it felt like I was on the verge of fainting every time I stood up. Needless to say, I quit soon after.
I’m not a gym rat, more like a gym bum. I go to listen to the machines clink and clank as I study in a corner where I’m out of everyone’s way.
I pull my throw blanket around me tighter, holding the two sides with one hand as I press play on my phone. As the deep dark hounds of Saint Mesa fill the room, I lay back against my pillows and pick up a book. We’ve got tests coming up and though I feel like I know my shit, I’m not a very good test taker so I want to burn this shit into my mind while I can. I should probably sleep since I’ve only allowed myself around six hours a night to sleep, but I can’t. I need to just stock up on more energy drinks and coffee. At least until these damn tests are over with.
After what feels like hours, I suddenly feel like someone is watching me, a presence that is not meant to be here. My skin pebbles beneath the blanket, making me burrow deeper. I place the book down and press pause on the music so I can listen for sounds. I know there’s bugs listening in, but thankfully after a thorough search, I’ve not found any cameras in my room, so this creeping, crawling feeling must mean there’s someone outside my door. Well, I mean, it could be the fact that paranoia has set in with sleep deprivation but I’m not chancing it.
Slowly, paying careful attention not to step on the floorboards that groan or pop, I make my way to my door, making sure none of my shadows can be seen in the space between the door and the floor. I get to the wall and put my ear close to the wood, listening for movements or breathing. Mateo’s blank face and harsh breaths flash in my mind making my stomach sink with dread.
