𝟬𝟬𝟵 Mr. Cupcake Expert

1.1K 74 48
                                        





CHAPTER NINEMr

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


CHAPTER NINE
Mr. Cupcake Expert


NYX WAS MANY things — a moody recluse, a hunter extraordinaire, a lover of late-night cuddles — but he wasn't heedless

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.










NYX WAS MANY things — a moody recluse, a hunter extraordinaire, a lover of late-night cuddles — but he wasn't heedless. At least not the way it would seem from his sudden appearance at the middle school yesterday. He wandered through the world however he wanted, meaning he didn't care unless it concerned him. (Like how he treated visitors with resentment, made his feelings known with his claws.) There was a reason he was at that certain place at that certain time, desperate to slice his way through the door, Rhiannon just couldn't figure out why. He certainly wouldn't travel so far for any lizard. Unless the boys had been lying. Unless it was no lizard at all. Looking back, she had never seen a lizard like that before. If only the feline could speak to her and tell her his troubles...

The things she would give to understand her cat.

"I need to know everything there is to know about you two, and don't you dare leave a single detail out."

Priscilla's voice cut through her thoughts. Yet another line of questioning on her love life had awaited Rhiannon at school. Priscilla was relentless, but that was expected considering she'd been fooled into believing Rhiannon was head over heels for Steve Harrington.

"Don't you think that should stay between us?" Rhiannon asked flatly.

"But I need the drama," Priscilla said. "How else am I supposed to keep myself entertained?"

"Read a magazine? Watch TV like normal people do?" When Rhiannon tried opening her locker, it wouldn't budge. She pulled once, twice, even slammed her palm against the surface in the hopes it was just old and faulty—nothing worked. "God. What is wrong with this thing?"

"What do you even have in there?" Priscilla mused. "Your second wardrobe?"

"How'd you guess?" Rhiannon teased.

Though, to be fair, the jab held some truth. She was a hoarder of memories. Her locker was packed with relics of girlhood: trinkets, friendship bracelets, candy wrappers she swore had sentimental value. It was a sort of organized chaos, the type girls had when it came to their possessions (no pun intended). After all, many would say she owned more lip gloss tubes than necessary. But her stash was sacred. She had lip gloss for every occasion and contingency. Backups for her backups.

Dead Girl Walking ━━ Steve HarringtonWhere stories live. Discover now