Trembling(15)

"Yeah," I said. Stupid Hallam.



A voice called out my name from the living room. But it wasn't Hallam.



It was Lilith.



Stupid Lilith. Grr. Jason and I never had any time alone together. And here she was, ruining everything.



"Augh," I groaned. "It's Lilith."



Jason sat up. "Guess we need to see what she wants."



Lilith was moving through the house, calling my name. She knocked on my door. "Azazel?" she asked.



"Yeah?" I said, trying to sound as annoyed as I felt, but finding that there was no tone of voice quite strong enough.



"It's me," she said.



"One second," I said. Jason and I put ourselves back in order, and I opened the door. "Hi, Lilith." I glared at her.



"Oh," she said. "Was I interrupting something?"



I didn't answer.



"I'm so sorry," she said.



"It's okay," said Jason from behind me, straightening the edge of his shirt. "You didn't know."



Why was Jason telling her it was okay? It was not okay. It was anything but okay. I wished like hell that Lilith was not in my house. "What do you need?" I asked her.



"I just . . ." she trailed off. "You know, maybe I should go watch some TV or something."



"No," said Jason, "don't be silly."



Don't be silly?! What was wrong with him?



"It's too late," I said. "Besides, it would be weird with you here. Just tell me what you need."



"I was wondering if I could use your computer?" she asked. "To check email and stuff?"



"Fine," I said. "It's in the living room. Knock yourself out." She could see the damned thing. Why come ask me about it?



Lilith looked at the carpet. "Um . . . I don't know the password."



I sighed heavily, but I gave her the password.



"Thanks," said Lilith. "You guys go back to what you were doing." She pulled the door closed.



What we were doing? Not bloody likely. I looked at Jason. He looked at me. He shrugged. "Soon," he said.



"It's been like three weeks," I said.



"I know that," he said. He kissed my forehead. Then he left my bedroom.



I plopped down on my bed.



"Azazel?" called Lilith from the living room.



"What?" I demanded.



"Do you mind if I sign on to the AOL Instant Messenger?"



"No," I said. "No, that's fine. Do whatever you want."



Clearly, she would anyway.





Chapter Four

To: Renegade Son

From: Edgar Weem

Subject: Re: Monthly update



Hallam,



I appreciate the update. I know you have a soft spot for Jason, but you must realize that the boy is not what he appears to be. Please continue to keep an eye on him. If the situation escalates, especially the violence, it may be necessary for us to step in. Of course, we'll try to avoid that at all costs.



Edgar

I waited until the last possible second to get to detention, so I was almost late. Mr. Sutherland met me at the door to his classroom. He smiled at me. "Hi Azazel," he said. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."



I looked past him into the classroom. Several other students were sitting inside at the desks. I didn't recognize any of them. None of them looked particularly like people I wanted to get to know either. There was a burly guy with a bandana tied around his head. He was wearing several large gold chains. One guy was wearing a white tank top which showed off his tattoo-covered arms. Another guy had greasy hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. There were two girls as well. They both wore large hoop earrings and lots of makeup. None of them looked at me as I came inside and sat down.



This was stupid. I did not belong in detention. I hadn't done anything wrong. I was a good kid. I made good grades. I did not belong here with all these delinquents.



Mr. Sutherland shut the door to his classroom. "Well," he said, "today in detention, one of you will be alphabetizing my books by author." He gestured to a large bookshelf which was groaning under the weight of all the books on it. Mr. Sutherland had to be kidding. "The others will be scrubbing down my desks."



Ugh. Why did Mr. Sutherland have to make detention into work?



The burly bandana guy raised his hand. "Hey, isn't there some law that you can't make us do manual labor?"



Mr. Sutherland shrugged. "I'm not really familiar with your American laws," he said, smiling.



"Bullshit," said the tattooed guy.



"Watch your language," said Mr. Sutherland. "Anymore of that and I'll have you after school for another day." He smiled. "Now. Would anyone like to volunteer to alphabetize?"