Angels and Demons

Dia

I balk in horror at the skimpy red outfit Liz holds up for me to see. Her face lights up with a devilish sort of amusement at my growing discomfort. 

“C’mon Dia, this dress is perfect.” She tries to convince me but I hold fast.

“Are you kidding? There is no way in this or any other world that that outfit qualifies as a ‘dress’,” I counter but it only makes her grin wider. The outfit is red and suggestive and all the things Liz is that I’m not. 

I knew it was a bad idea to agree to go as a devil for Halloween but Liz found the idea hilarious. Right now, she stood in front of me in an angel costume, still not quite reaching the innocent look of one.

Her white dress dropped to her calves in a feathery thin sheet. Gauzy strips of fabric attached to her ruffled sleeves winded around her elbows and forearms giving her a floaty, ethereal look. She wore simple white ballet flats and in place of a floating halo, a golden circlet rested on her black, cropped hair. 

The real interest came from the carefully feathered wings flattened against her back, silvery-white and iridescent. I remember Liz spent days on those wings making sure that each feather lined up perfectly with the others. 

The innocent, ethereal look was offset by the neckline of her dress that dipped a little lower than what most angels would have let it and her sharper, more daring face. In her narrow brown eyes, a spark of mischievous intent always kept them bright and her red lips tilted upwards in a permanent lilting smirk.

“I worked very hard on this costume. It would be a waste for you not to wear it.” I took that to mean she spent day and night creating the most suggestive, off-putting outfit she could without sending me into the party naked. 

“But what if my parents find out?” I stall, trying to find a way out. Liz is not impressed.

“How would they know?” she said. With anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes and scoffed but with me, she spoke the words as a challenge for me to come up with my worst.

“What if someone posts on their Instagram? Or they come by to pick me up? Or I forget to take off my outfit and-” Liz stops me with a hand.

“Okay, first of all, your parents don’t have Instagram, I’ve already double and triple checked. Secondly, your parents think that you are having a nice sleepover at my house which is currently parentless. Thirdly, see secondly. There is no way you could sleep in this outfit and just forget to take it off. No one will find out.”

“But...but..” Unfortunately, I had no other excuses. Tentatively I take the slip of clothing Liz calls a “dress” and wiggle into the tight outfit.

It’s even worse in a mirror. The dark fishnet leggings slipped into tall boots I could barely stand-in. Those were bad enough but the dress? I didn’t know if I should pull it down or up. The low-cut sweetheart neckline shone a deep ruby red with rhinestones studding the arches. The actual top was corset styled and had thick black ties binding the halves together and a flourishing bow at the top finished it off.

A tiny skirt flared out, meeting with the top of the thighs. Tiny black bat wings folded in the back and instead of two hooked horns at the top of my head, Liz created a crown of them, black and dark and malicious. Liz nodded appreciatively.

“I did some good work with that thing. Try not to get it dirty. I might wear it to school sometime.” I gaped at her.

“You’re not serious.” She shrugged and started scrolling through her phone.

“I’ll take the wings off obviously. Maybe I’ll pair it with some jean shorts, I’d love to see Mrs. Stine’s face when I-” she narrowed her eyes at her phone, breaking off. “Bad news. Rory is going to the party and he’s bringing Courtney.” Like always, my chest tightens when I hear their names.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” I suggest, looking down at my outfit. I suddenly grow so tired of their names.

“No, we’re going. I’m not letting a lying, cheating,-” she cuts off before looking to me. Usually, she was very free with her curses but Rory was a sensitive subject. “Don’t let him ruin our night,” she summarized. 

I sigh but follow her out the door and into the backseat of her car, hiding on the floor. Frankly, I should be the one to drive because I don’t want to die in a car accident but I do worse under police questioning should we ever get caught. We both have a valid driver’s license, but neither of us has been driving long enough to carry non-related people.

When she finally pulls up at the party, the noise itself was enough to deter me but Liz pushes me forward.

“Walk confidently,” she murmurs as we enter the building. I relax when no one turns to look at us but Liz isn’t as delighted at the lack of attention. “Go sit on the couch. I’ll go get us something to drink.” 

I look at her sideways and she laughs. “It’s not alcoholic, Martin L. threw this party and next to you, he’s one of the most conservative people I know.” She clamers off to get something while I sit nervously on the leather couch. 

I look down, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Then the seat next to me dips and I tense. Even at the corner of my eye, I can see that it’s Rory. I can tell from the way he sits like he owns the world and like the world owes him something. I can tell from the way he breathes, the way that I spent months memorizing so I would never have to look up to know it was him.

I admit that my life would have been better if I never met Rory. He was impulsive, arrogant, and frankly narcissistic. But he’d made me feel special like I was someone important and not just some random girl in a world full of random people.

That’s why it hurt so much when he cheated on me. I tried to be angry but I just couldn’t. It was expected and Liz had been angry enough for the both of us. Though she never told me outright, I’m pretty sure she egged his car. 

Now he was back, like an unlucky penny reappearing. 

“My huntress,” he rasped, his voice thick and scruffy and oh so nostalgic. I remember when he came up with that nickname. Liz called me Dia, my parents called me Ann, and the rest of the world called me Diane. The nickname he gave me sounded so achingly unique that I clung to it until my knuckles turned white. 

I force myself to look up. My curly brown hair falls in long waves, hopefully attractively framing my face. I instantly shove the idea out. Rory would be a mistake. Better for him to think I was ugly and leave. 

But he didn't, he only smiled a devilish grin that made my stomach twist in hopeless spirals. 

“Hello, Rory.” my voice comes out quiet and timid. Not at all like my bold, outgoing outfit that no doubt dragged Rory back. 

It began as harmless chatter, quiet words about casual things and I started to relax, to laugh, and to talk. I could see myself talking to him, I could hear it and I knew that this was a mistake but I couldn’t stop myself. He was like a drug that loosened my tongue. Mentally I begged Liz to come back and save me but she still hadn’t come with the drinks. She was no doubt flirting with partygoers in her angelic wear.

I tried not to be too bitter about it, but it got harder when Rory came closer and closer, not only in his presence but with his words. Finally, I came to my senses and pushed through the fog in my mind. I stand up abruptly, cutting off his suggestive commentary.

“I need to go find Liz. It was nice talking to you again,” I lie, cringing at the words. As I make my way to leave he pulls me back onto the sofa. 

“C’mon Huntress, you don’t really want to leave,” he cooed, his voice poisoning my mind. Panic makes my heart beat faster and I don’t know what to do pressed up against him in clothes that barely covered me.

“Hey!” a female voice calls out. I can’t tell who it is but I hope it’s Liz. My hope expands when I feel his arms around me loosen and a slap echoes through the room. Only she would be bold enough to slap Rory.

But when I look up, it’s not Liz I see, but Courtney. Her dark blue hair glints up at me, straight and perfect. 

“No need to get jealous, she just needed some comforting, isn’t that right?” A hint of warning shines through his voice, sharp and commanding. Even now, I can’t break free and I nod, a tear threatening to trail down my face and ruin the makeup Liz spent so long on.

“I’m not jealous. You’re clearly upsetting her,” Courtney spat at him, something hard edging her voice. “And don’t think I haven’t seen you, bothering other women like this. I’ve told you to stop and yet you still can’t seem to end this behavior.” Rory looked up, unconcerned.

“What are you going to do about it? Break up with me?”

Courtney raised her chin, a new resolve filling her eyes. “Yes, I am. Take this as your two-minute notice.” 

“Fine,” he shrugged, feigning unconcern despite having been dumped in front of nearly the whole school. But I could see the flash of something akin to hurt in his eyes.

He stands up to leave, and relief fills my chest but then he looks back at me with his hauntingly amber eyes and winks at me. I shiver to shake off the clinging feeling of his gaze. 

I hug my knees closer and fight the urge to cry. The couch beside me dips again and when I turn hopefully, I expect to see Liz. If it was her, I would forgive her in an instant. I would forgive her for dragging me to this party and leaving me alone in this dress. 

But it’s not her. It’s Courtney. “Hey.” Her voice sounds thick and raspy.

I nod in response, unable to form words. I know that I should hate her by normal social standards, but I just don’t have it in me. Clearly sensing my hesitation, she puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry about-”

“No, I should be the one who should be sorry,” I interrupt, feeling unnecessarily guilty. An awkward silence filled the air and I found myself wishing even harder that Liz was here to diffuse the situation.

Courtney laughs, breaking the thin glass. “Sorry, I’m just so bad at socializing.” I can’t help but crack a grin. 

“Same. Usually, Liz is here to diffuse the situation but…” I trail off, not sure why I suddenly feel a stab of betrayal at her name. Courtney seemed to get the drift and she didn't pry. She only pushes me playfully on the shoulder.

“I bet she’s the one who made you wear this. I don’t think you’d ever wear it on your own.” I look down, involuntarily. 

“She actually made it,” I admit. Courtney’s face turns impressed and a bit surprised. 

“Wow, she’s really talented.” Suddenly, I feel irritation travel down my spine. I feel the need to backtalk her, as punishment for leaving me behind. 

“Yeah, if you want to walk around half-naked. I think she only wears scandalous clothing like this because she craves the attention that her parents never gave her.” It feels wrong the moment it leaves my mouth and I can feel the wrongness increase as Courtney’s amused face turns to embarrassment and I hear a strangled cry behind me.

Liz stands behind me, her hands clutching two red cups. I can’t bring myself to look at her eyes. 

“Really Diane? To Courtney of all people?” Diane. She called me Diane. The last time she called me in third grade, she shook her head at me and told me that I look like a Dia to her.

“I am so sorry,” I plead, still not able to look her in the eye. She makes a scoffing noise. I hear Courtney stand up to leave.

“Look me in the eye and I might believe you,” she demands, an edge to her voice that anyone else would have interpreted as a threat but I knew that she was hiding tears. 

My heart plummets when I look up at her. Hurt flashes in her eyes, more than I thought possible for such a minor thing. But if it really were minor, I wouldn’t feel so guilty. I’m also mad. I don’t know why but a ball of anger takes over my mind.

“Maybe if you had come back sooner, this wouldn’t have happened.” Again, I’ve said the wrong thing. I can see her eyes harden and her compassion fade away. 

She doesn’t even respond. A tear trails down her cheek but I know it’s not a tear of sorrow, it was of anger. When she grows angry, her face turns red and tears escape her eyes. She sputters for a moment, attempting to collect herself before turning on her heel and stomping away. 

Courtney comes back to me sitting on the floor, knees folded to my chest, tears streaming from my eyes. She sits next to me and silently hugs me. 

Liz

“Go sit on the couch. I’ll go get us something to drink,” I instruct her. She gives me a sideways look and my lip tilts up in amusement. I reassure her that the drinks are all sanctioned and appropriate for a girl of 17 years to drink and I make my way to the counter. 

I keep my eye out, searching each face carefully. I make sure to saunter down the room, walking in a way that demands power and attention. I turn back once and I see Dia staring at a tall dark figure. Rory.

Despite myself, I feel a flash of irritation. Why does she always have to get herself into trouble? I start my way back to her when I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder and I turn. 

My heart thuds in my chest and an uncontrollable smile spreads throughout my face. Leon smiles back at me, his kind face softening. I look back once at Dia and look back to Leon. I bite my lip, torn. It shouldn’t even be a contest. I should be able to push away Leon for Dia, it should be the easiest thing to do. 

Dia looks so helpless, so alone but Leon...He’s still waiting there with his sparkling brown eyes, a soft smile resting on her lips. 

I make my decision, and guilt tightens my stomach. 

“Are you alright Elizabeth?” Leon looks down at me in concern. I look back one more time before nodding. She could stand to be alone for a little longer. 

He takes me over to the lengthening line and starts to converse with me. Unlike with anyone else I’ve ever met, I don’t need to fake a laugh or force a flirtatious smile. My face splits in a glorious grin all by itself. 

When I’m with Leon, I don’t have to be perfect, per my parents. I don’t have to be beautiful and seductive, per the entire world, and I don’t have to be Dia’s protector. I can let my mask fall to the floor and let myself just be Elizabeth.

“Those wings are beautiful,” Leon shouts over the din. My face breaks out into a stupid smile. 

“Thank you, I made them myself,” I admit, my cheeks pinkening with pleasure. He pulls me into a hug.

“Of course, no one else could make wings so beautiful,” he says against my ear. I reach up to ruffle his curly brown hair but he pulls back and narrows his eyes over the crown, fixating on something behind me.

“What is it?”

“Aren’t you friends with Diane?” My chest tightens in something like irritation or jealousy. 

“Yes,” I start, cautiously. “But she doesn’t know about us yet. I want to wait before-”

“I think something’s wrong with her. She’s curled up on the couch.” His brow furrows in concern. His compassion was one of the things that drew me closer to him but at that moment, I wished he wasn’t so sympathetic. “I think you should go help her,” he suggests, nudging me closer. 

I squeeze him tight one last time before crawling slowly to Dia. I don’t know if I should be angry at her or myself. I left her alone during such a precarious moment. Who does that?

I shake my head and walk closer and pause. Courtney Gardner sat with her hands around Dia. She says something and Dia’s wide grin falls down. 

“Yeah, if you want to walk around half-naked. I think she only wears scandalous clothing like this because she craves the attention that her parents never gave her.” Betrayal, the worst kind of pain, hits me in the chest.

She turns around, horror written all over her face. I try to compose myself but I can’t even form words. “Let’s just be strangers,” and I leave.

Three months later

I walk down the hallway and meet Liz's eyes. She walks next to a guy named Leon and tenderness softens her eyes. We nod, and continue walking. Strangers once more.