Mark My Words

6 | Deal With The Devil

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Several mistakes later (chief among them being listening to podcasts without a timer on) Sami fell asleep, and later, so did Rosalie. At some point in the evening when Miss Mason came up the stairs to go to bed, she slipped in to check on Rosalie, and stopped at the sight of the Griffins son passed out beside her on the comforter. Khoshkeh laid curled up on Sami's chest, perfectly content in the light of the glow stars.

Miss Mason shut the door and texted Mrs. Griffin an update as to why Sami missed his curfew. Considering their task for that day (studying, which they did get done), Sami's backpack was already there and his car already in the driveway, it was easy for them both to wake up to Rosalie's alarm in less than a panic.

They'd been too tired to close the curtains, and so morning light streamed in through the floor length windows overlooking the porch. Rosalie stretched her arms back with a groan, only to snap her arms back down when Sami poked at her exposed armpit.

"Sami," she whined.

"Ha, sorry, instincts."

"More like habit." She reclined back on the bed and looked at the stars. They all read the fate of the world, and the fate of Sami's ass since he didn't meet curfew. "Shit. You weren't supposed to stay the night."

"I'll survive," he promised, sitting up. "Now. Time to get ready for another shitastic day of school."

They threw the blankets back and lunged into motion. Rosalie went for her closet for Sami's spare clothes and tossed them to him as he shed his shirt and trousers. She poked fun at his Spiderman boxers, not that Rosalie was any better—Supergirl wasn't much better. Sami snatched her camera and together they stood in Rosalie's full-length mirror and posed in their underwear.

She couldn't even imagine the sorts of bets that would come of it would the school get ahold of some of these pictures. She pinned the black polaroid to the wall, and it faded into focus as they both readied for the day. Sami spiked up his black hair in the mirror, fluffing it and combing it back. Despite Sami's serious distaste in all things sports, swim team did wonders for his abs that he began to cover up by buttoning his white shirt.

"Aw, I think it's too small on me," he whined.

"You're telling me. None of my pants fit anymore."

"Shopping this weekend?"

"God, yes. Every time I see Jace I just know he's staring at my 'Thunder Thighs,'" she said, tongue sticking out. Sami slung an arm around her shoulders with an affectionate, "Aw!" that she brushed away, giggling. "I'm serious! I'm not gonna be able to stop thinking about it until his shiner is gone."

"Do you think Joanna would punch Whitney Vasquez for me if I paid her?" Sami asked, and Rosalie rolled her eyes until she caught sight of Sami again and realized he was serious.

"Are you kidding? Whitney wouldn't stop until Joanna was expelled."

Sami threw up a peace sign and winked.

"Be serious. That's so mean. And if Joanna actually tries we'll have a shot at Nationals. Jade can't keep playing full matches," Rosalie explained, and it was true, and likely what Maguire was thinking. Their team was small enough as it was—eleven on a field at a time, and they had less than the appropriate amount for a proper scrimmage. They didn't have a substitute goalie, but if necessary, junior Luanna Williams was their best bet. Not nearly as stellar as Jade, but in a pinch, Lu would do.

Most teams in their county weren't nearly as exclusive as the Knights, but it just meant all their players were on their A game, injuries be damned. The number of times the Knights fell short because of other teams bullying Jade were ridiculous—two concussions landed Lu in the goal, and tore their chances of Regionals out of their hands.