Corvus IV wears an all-black coat.
It's shiny and feather-dark with a hint of iridescence.
He tells me it was his great-grandfather's,
Corvus I's, a family heirloom passed around like a cheap whore.
He never takes it off.
Corvus IV steals shiny rings.
I call him "our resident jewel-thief" and laugh and elbow his ribs.
He smarts the wound and pretends it doesn't hurt,
Diamond-teethed and ruby-eyed,
But all the rest still made of flesh and sinew,
Susceptible to the bruise and crunch of hollow bones.
Corvus IV doesn't eat in front of us.
Joel says it's because he doesn't want us to make fun of his gross vegan food but I know the real reason.
I caught him once,
Under the bleachers with his hand down the front of some underclassman's pants,
And his diamond-sharp teeth in her neck.
Friday rolled around and, unable to convince Brenda or the rest of the gang, I went to the football game alone, flask of vodka sitting untouched in my inside jacket pocket. It was a chilly evening, the sun just beginning to set, and I shivered as I walked to the game. Dried leaves danced in a swirl across the sidewalk, tapping against my ankles as if to say hello, hello, it's me. I kicked them away, not in the mood for conversation. I was tired, having pulled an all-nighter the previous evening trying to force myself to study for the calculus test I had this morning.
Ugh, I sighed to myself. Definitely failed that one.
I arrived at the stadium and snuck around the back, jumping the fence so I didn't have to pay for a ticket. I made a beeline for the concession stand and silently joined the back of the line, stomping my feet to try and warm myself up. The line slowly crept along, and soon I was at the front, coming face to face with my English teacher, of all people.
"Mr. Monarch? Since when have you been working concessions?"
Mr. Monarch grinned at me. "Louise! What a pleasant surprise. Just started this semester actually. Now, what would you like?"
I rolled my eyes at the use of my given name, but let him get away with it. After all, he was my favorite teacher. In fact, he was the only teacher I actually liked.
"I'll have a hot apple cider, please."
"Anything else?"
"No, that's all for now." I paid and took my change.
"Enjoy the game! I'm betting on a win tonight," Mr. Monarch said with a wink, handing me a paper cup that let off a thick cloud of steam and was hot to the touch.
I scoffed. "Highly unlikely. See you on Monday, Mr. Monarch!"
He waved goodbye distractedly, already turning to serve the next customer. Poor Mr. Monarch. He must really need the extra money.
I made a detour behind the bleachers on the way to my seat so I could pour a healthy finger of vodka into my cider without anyone seeing. I took a sip, wincing at the astringent taste and the burning heat in the back of my throat. It spread pleasantly to my stomach and I sighed happily, finally relaxing after a long day spent tense around the shoulders.
As I turned to exit the underbelly of the bleachers, I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I peered through the gloom, and caught sight of a familiar black coat, a hint of its iridescence glinting like crow feathers in the waning sunlight that struggled through the gaps in the slats of the bleachers.
"Corvus?" I said.
Corvus whipped around, revealing an underclassman pinned beneath him up against one of the bleacher's walls. She was flushed pink with embarrassment and pleasure, neck covered in mottled bruises from where Corvus had presumably sucked kisses into her skin. I didn't recognize her.
Corvus's eyes flashed in the dark, and I thought I caught a hint of red ringing his irises, but I blinked and it vanished in an instant.
"What," he snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
I raised my hands in surrender. "Jeez, sorry. It's just that I didn't expect you to be here. You said you weren't coming."
Corvus twitched, but made no other movement, face carefully blank. "I changed my mind."
The girl fidgeted behind him. "Um, maybe I should--"
Corvus whipped around towards the sound of her voice. "Stay where you are," he intoned, voice uncharacteristically low and smooth like velvet.
A dreamy smile crept across her face. "Okay," she breathed.
I watched the scene with bewilderment and a little bit of trepidation. Corvus was new this year, and had latched on to our little group mostly out of necessity. It was strange to change schools during senior year, with everyone already settled into their friendships at this point, especially in a small town such as ours where everyone has known each other since kindergarten. We didn't know much about him, other than the fact that he was the fourth in a long line of Corvus's, and that his coat was over a hundred years old, having first belonged to his great-grandfather, Corvus I.
"Oookay," I said, drawing out the vowels. "Well, do you want me to save you a seat?"
"No," Corvus said shortly, turning back to the girl.
"Alright," I shrugged, unbothered by his strange behavior. I took another sip from my cider, letting the warmth and the sharp bite of alcohol diffuse in my bones, and left Corvus to his tryst.
At this point, the bleachers had started to fill up, this close to the kickoff. Despite my early arrival, I had dawdled too long, and all the good seats were taken. I scanned the bleachers, looking for an open spot, and found one near the back. I sat down and groaned, annoyed at my obscured view, but then decided not to care. We always lost anyway.
Tonight, our Edmonton Bears were facing the neighboring Coventry Tigers, in what was surely to be an embarrassing blowout in the Tigers' favor. I didn't mind. I was only here to enjoy the early fall weather and spirited environment, and get pleasantly drunk, of course, taking the edge off my long unfavorable week. I wasn't here for anything else, I told myself. I wasn't.
I sighed, feeling a little lonely, and picked at the peeling edge of my soggy paper cup. I didn't want to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to have a good time and relax. But I couldn't help wonder why none of my friends wanted to come to the game with me, Corvus even going so far as to attend but not seek me out. That stung, although I didn't want to admit it. It was hard not to think that maybe my friends weren't busy. Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with me. Maybe they didn't actually like me after all, and were just pretending to spare my feelings. I let the self-pity wash over me in a wave and buzz under my skin like a live electric current, feed into the simmering anger that always lay dormant in a dark roiling mass inside my ribcage, just waiting for the right moment to wake. It hurt, but it felt good at the same time, the melancholy cathartic and soothing despite its pain.
Suddenly, someone sat down heavily next to me. I jumped, turning to face the newcomer, and was surprised to see that it was Corvus.
"Hey," Corvus muttered. "Sorry about earlier. I was just startled. I didn't mean to act like a cunt."
I grinned, happy to see him. "Don't worry about it." I offered him my flask of vodka and he took it gratefully, taking a hefty sip. "Hey!" I exclaimed. "Save some for me!"
Corvus opened his coat to show me a pack of cigarettes nestled in his inner pocket. "I'll trade you."
I knocked shoulders with him, smiling. Corvus always knew how to make it up to me. "At halftime?"
Corvus nodded, and buttoned up his coat.
"Sooooo," I started. "Who's the girl?"
Corvus froze. "No one. Just someone to sate the hunger."
I laughed. "I didn't expect you to have such a healthy appetite! Get em, Corv." I shoved him with my shoulder again, and he smiled slightly, looking a bit bemused.
The shrill sound of a blown whistle suddenly rang out across the field, and we whipped our heads around to see the players start to take the field. A cheer rose up from the stands and I shouted along with them, getting to my feet and clapping my hands, completely swept up in the school spirit. I looked over at Corvus to see him still sitting down, and grabbed him by the arm to drag him to his feet.
"Get up! How can you even see from down there anyway?"
He huffed, but got to his feet and stood shoulder to shoulder with me, putting two fingers in his mouth to let out a loud whistle of his own. I turned to him, surprised. "I didn't know you could do that! Can you teach me?"
Corvus grinned. "Sure thing." He showed me how to fold back my tongue with my thumb and forefinger, and soon enough I was whistling along with him and the rest of the crowd. I giggled, exuberant with joy and more than a little drunk.
"Thanks for being here," I said to Corvus.
"No problem," he said to me, jostling me with his shoulder, and I smiled into my collar.
