Demon at My Door Read Online Free PDF Page B

out across the quad and—wouldn’t you know it?—there’s someone in my spot.
    “Hey, again.” Rick grins as he looks up from his book to meet my stare.  His long legs stretch out in front of him, and his black tee shirt clings to his chest as he moves his books out of the way. “You want to sit down?”
    Ugh. What’s the deal with this guy? I might as well set him straight about my social status around here and hope he goes away. Now’s not the time for new friends, especially a guy friend. Demon boy made that quite clear. 
    “You do realize that’s not the smartest move. I’m probably not the best person to be seen with,” I say as I take my satchel off my shoulder and toss it down. “This is usually where I sit.” He looks at me, like he doesn’t get it, so I state the obvious. “Alone.”
    He laughs and crosses his legs at his black, booted ankles, like he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. “Everyone needs a friend. And well, lucky for me, I’m not the kind of guy who cares what other people think. Come on. Sit.” He pats the ground next to him.
    I raise my eyebrows and give a quick shrug. If he wants to take on the wrath of the jock crowd to hog my spot under the tree, so be it. Doesn’t mean we’re friends, though. Finally, I take a seat in the cool grass next to him and bite into my apple, ignoring him the best I can.
    It’s epically silent, except for my thunderous chewing and the mindless chatter surrounding us. Rick seems oblivious of me as he reads his book. Even though I shouldn’t, I glance around, hoping to spot Stew. It doesn’t take me long to find him. He’s at the picnic table in the center of the quad, not more than twenty feet away, surrounded by the entire puketastic cheerleading squad. Taylor Gee—the most vomit-inducing of all the cheerleaders and my previous best friend—is perched at his side. 
    I hate that half of my high school class got accepted into Capital University along with me. 
    Taylor giggles at Stew’s every word and flaunts her A cups at him. Her brown hair twirls around her perfectly manicured index finger as she makes goo-goo eyes at Stew. Are they hooking up now? The whole scene makes me want to hurl. I don’t know how I could have ever been her friend. 
    Blood burns in my veins, and I’m ready to explode. Frustrated, I squeeze the crap out of my apple and grind my teeth. From the outside, it looks like they’re perfect for each other. But Stew told me he hates superficial people like Taylor as much as I do. The only reason he puts up with it, and pretends to be friends with those posers, is to appease his domineering father. He wants him to surround himself with only good people, and obviously, according to Mr. Masterson, that excludes me.
    But God, Stew doesn’t have to pretend he likes it so much.
    My stomach churns for believing what we had together was real.  
    Rick pulls me back to reality. “Friend of yours?”
    My head snaps in his direction. “Pssssh. Hardly.” 
    “Hmmm.” He lifts an eyebrow and then goes back to his book.
    This guy thinks he knows me. Whatever. He’s known me all of four hours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    He snaps the book shut and looks me in the eye. “It just means I’ve noticed you two staring at each other when you think the other one’s not looking. It makes me wonder what’s going on there because you two don’t exactly look like you travel in the same circles. No offense.”
    I shrug. “Not much to tell. He’s my neighbor. That’s all.”
    He cocks his head, almost like he’s suspicious of something. “Right.” He smirks. “You know, I want us to be friends, so you should be honest with me.”
    For a second, I think about how amazing it’d be to have a friend like Rick, someone who isn’t afraid to be seen in public with me. But I haven’t had a real friend –not counting Stew, for obvious reasons - since the Taylor incident, and the one thing I’ve learned since then is to