Chapter 6: Chapter Six, The Week Off

"Shit, shit, SHIT!!!" Oliver screamed as they both ran. "WE'RE SCREWED!!"

 

They're hearts pounded in rhythm to they're feet on the pavement, faster and faster as they got further. The cold night air blew in both their faces, whipping their hair back. 

 

"OLIVER, OVER HERE!!" Marilyn screamed. 

 

They ducked into an alley, running a few hundred feet. 

 

"Shit, Marilyn—it's a dead end!" 

 

"THEY'RE IN THE ALLEY, MOVE!" A guard yelled in the distance. 

 

"Marilyn, they're—!" 

 

"It's okay, Oliver! I know what I'm doing!" She yelled, looking behind her. 

 

Oliver checked if the guards were coming. When he turned back, he saw Marilyn peeling off her sweater, revealing everything that wasn't covered by her underwear. 

 

He freaked out. "MARILYN, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?"

 

"Oliver," she said, unbuttoning her skirt, "I need you to trust me on this one." 

 

All he could do was stare as she stepped out of her skirt. Running footsteps were becoming more and more audible. She tossed her clothes in a trash can. 

 

"MARILYN, WH—"

 

She stepped behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Try not to move a lot, okay Oliver?" 

 

He flustered. "M-Marilyn, NOW'S NOT THE TIME FOR—"

 

"Shh!" 

 

She tightened her grip around his waist, and bent her knees as if she was preparing to jump. 

 

Oliver heard a loud FWOOSH. And with that, they blasted off up into the city sky, above the alley and the buildings. He screamed and held onto her arms for dear life. 

 

"WHAT THE HELL, MARILYN?!?! WE'RE—"

 

"Flying? Yeah, I know," she said with a smile. 

 

"B–BUT, HOW?!" 

 

"I'm a demon, Oliver—I have wings!" 

 

Oliver could see his entire city laid out, hundreds of feet beneath him. Points of lights from buildings and cars pierced the darkness, illuminating the city in an electric glow. 

 

The temperature dropped by at least 20 degrees from the height climb, and the wind was intense. 

 

This was real. 

 

Shit… she… she wasn't lying… she… she is a—

 

"I'm gonna land over there!" She said, letting one arm go so she could point.

 

"DON’T DO THAT!!" He screamed, holding onto her arm as tightly as he could. She was able to support him just as well with only one arm.

 

She giggled. "Just get ready. We're gonna land." 

 

She got closer to the building and slowed down. Like a plane, she got lower and lower, slower and slower, until her shoes skidded on the building top as she stopped. She let Oliver go, who looked around nervously. 

 

He surveyed the city from the rooftop. 

 

"So… you have wings?" He asked.

 

"Um, yeah… how d'you think we got here?" She smiled. 

 

"C- … can I see them?" He was reluctant to turn around. 

 

"Sure, go for it." 

 

He turned around, facing the same scene He dealt with in her bedroom. She turned her shoulders slightly, showing the dark, webbed wings. 

 

He walked over slowly, examining them. 

 

They were a part of her… they were her skin and bone. Jutting out from her back, the skin from her almost–bare back melded from her light‐milk skin tone to a burnt brown-red. 

 

They were tipped with sharp edges, with points of bone or some other material jutting out from the tips. 

 

He ran his finger along the top of one. As he grazed it, he could feel the roughness of the skin… the hardness of the bone. 

 

They flitted like real wings, slightly flinching when he touched them. The thin flaps of skin slightly quivered in the wind. 

 

"Damn," he said quietly, "they look like bat wings." 

 

"Yeah… that's how demon wings look." 

 

He studied them for a few silent minutes… processing everything… 

 

"Wait… does this mean I'm gonna grow wings too?"

 

"No, you've gotta be a full demon for that," she said. Then her eyes widened with a gasp. She sounded around. "Wait a minute! That means—you finally believe me?!"

 

"Well, considering I just witnessed you fly us above the freaking city with your own wings after you punched my ex through a literal wall… yeah, I believe you." 

 

"Yay!!" She yelled, clapping. "Finally!!!" 

 

"One question though—" He said. "Why did you take your clothes off?" 

 

She looked down at herself. "I told you already—my clothes are heavy." 

 

"You can't expect me to believe that's why. It's a skirt and sweater." 

 

"It's heavy!" She pouted. 

 

"It's not heavy, Marilyn! You're probably just weak!" 

 

"Weak?!" Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Who are you calling—!?" She balled her hand into a fist, ready to punch him.

 

"SHIT, MARILYN, STOP! YOU'LL KILL ME IF YOU DO THAT!!!" 

 

Too late. 

 

She sailed her fist into his chest as he braced for death. 

 

But… nothing. 

 

He opened his eyes, seeing her fist on his chest. But… it just felt like a normal punch. 

 

"Huh?" 

 

"You're a half–demon now," she said, taking her fist back. "You're stronger. My punch is just gonna feel like a normal punch." 

 

"Really?" He asked, looking at his hands. 

 

"Um, yeah…" 

 

The reality of the situation hit Oliver like a bag of bricks.

 

I'm… I'm a demon. I'm a half–demon. She wasn't lying. I'm actually a demon. She's actually a demon… I'm actually her sidekick… she wasn't lying… 

 

"Y–you're actually a… demon?! I'm actually a demon?!" He said, looking at his hands and arms excitedly. 

 

"Half–demon," she corrected. 

 

He laughed excitedly. His thoughts ran at the speed of light, but he zeroed in on what she said about him being stronger now as a demon.

 

Without thinking, he picked her up in a princess carry, taking her completely off guard. 

 

"GAH!" She yelled, wrapped in his arms. 

 

"You were right, Marilyn! You're as light as a feather!!"

 

"L-LET ME DOWN, OLIVER!" 

 

She blushed, but he didn't seem to take a hint. He lifted her up and down, laughing at how easy it was now. She just sat, arms clutched at her chest, trying not to notice the feeling of his hoodie sleeves on her bare skin. 

 

"You know," he said, examining his arms, then looking her in the eyes. "I get why you had to get rid of the sweater. You wouldn't be able to fly, because of your wings. But you could've kept the skirt." 

 

"I-I told you, Oliver," she said, "it's heavy!" 

 

"Bull! If I'm only half a demon and you're light to me, then some clothes should be way more light to you." 

 

"Can you please just put me down!" She yelled, turning her face away from him. 

 

In that split second, he realized his mistake. 

 

"GAH!" 

 

He set her down, wondering how the hell he forgot she… He didn't even want to think about it. 

 

They wouldn't look at each other for a while. 

 

He could sense she was pouting angrily. 

 

"C'mon, Marilyn—don't be like that. You're the one who took your clothes off to begin with." 

 

"Errr, it's not that! You picked me up! I hate being picked up!," she said angrily. "It doesn't matter anyway! I'm going home!" 

 

He turned around, watching her walk away from him on the rooftop. 

 

"Marilyn, you can't just go home like that." He pulled his hoodie over his head, fixing the sleeves. "Here," he handed it to her. "Put this on." 

 

She turned around to look at Oliver. 

 

He stood there in a short-sleeved black shirt,  the symbol O,H on the front in red and white. He held his hoodie out to her in the moonlight. 

 

Instead of her face this time, her chest heated up. She took it with a smile, pulling it on. It hung past her thighs, covering her up perfectly. She smiled even bigger, looking up at him. 

 

"Thanks, Oliver!"

 

"No problem," he said, smiling too. 

 

Her face brightened up. "That reminds me—I'm gonna be training you tomorrow! Be ready!"

 

"Wait, wait, wait—training? What am I training for?" 

 

He realized that she said he's her sidekick… but, what was he her sidekick for? Shouldn't that—

 

He suddenly remembered her story—the one about the underworld and the good ruler. About the good demons who hunt the bad demons. 

 

So… she wants me to be her sidekick for demon hunting… but…  

 

"Training for the Rank Trials," she answered, "It's super important. So tomorrow, I wanna see what you're made out of," she said with a mischievous smirk. 

 

Oh shit… she's gonna make me fight her… 

 

She started to turn away, but looked back at him. "See you tomorrow, Oliver." She winked at him, which made his face burn a subtle shade of pink. 

 

She fully turned at the edge off the roof, jumping down to the floor effortlessly. 

 

Oliver stood for a second, arms getting goosebumps in the cold wind. He looked around, and was smacked back into reality. He ran to the edge of the rooftop, yelling down to Marilyn: 

 

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"Wait, Marilyn! How am I supposed to go home?!" 

 

THE NEXT MORNING 

 

Oliver walked into his school at least half an hour early, ready to not make the same mistake as he had for the past two days. He trudged down the almost-empty halls, heading towards his class. 

 

"I can't believe Marilyn had to fly me home…" He said to himself. "And I hardly slept, since she called me at least 50 times last night…" 

 

He got to his 1st period class, and it was empty. He went to his desk. "This is nice," he said, resting his head on his folded arms, "I should come to school early more often." 

 

He yawned and decided to take a shirt nap while he waited for class to start…

 

…

 

"Good Morning, Oliver!!!" She yelled, bent over next to his ear. 

 

Oliver shot up, wide awake. "What?"

 

She giggled. "I said good morning. Class is gonna start and you're still asleep." She eyed the door quickly, then looked back to Oliver with a smile again. 

 

Oliver blinked a few times, looking around. When his head rotated back to Marilyn, he sat up.

 

"MARILYN!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOODIE?!" 

 

"I'm wearing it. It's the only clothes I have, now. And it's so light. I'd probably wear it forever if—"

 

"MARILYN, you… you CAN'T WEAR THAT! People are gonna think we're dating! That's what couples do!" 

 

"Oh… okay. I'll just tell them I'm nake—"

 

"NO! DON'T DO THAT! That's WAY worse." 

 

Kids started walking into the class, and Marilyn turned to the door, checking for something. 

 

The teacher walked in, keys and phone in hand. "Okay, class—everyone in your seats!" 

 

Marilyn turned to Oliver. 

 

"Hey Oliver… how 'bout a friendly wager?" She said quietly. 

 

"Wager?"

 

"Yeah," she looked around. "I promise that after today, I won't wear your hoodie to school again, AND I'll give you $100, on a bet." 

 

He raised his eyebrows at the mention of a hundred bucks. "What's the bet?" 

 

"I bet that you can't go the whole day of school only saying 'yes'." 

 

He thought about it. 

 

"Wait… so if I can go the whole school day only saying the word yes, you'll never wear my hoodie again, AND you'll give me a hundred bucks?" 

 

"Yep," she smiled. 

 

"Young lady, you're going to need to take your seat," the teacher said to Marilyn. 

 

Marilyn looked at the door again, then got up to leave. 

 

"Well?"

 

Oliver stuck out his hand. "You're on!" 

 

They shook, and she scurried to her desk, glancing at the door as she did. 

 

Class started, and Oliver focused on his schoolwork. 

 

But, not even 10 minutes into class, there was a knock at the door. Marilyn's head shot up. The teacher walked over and opened the door for the principal.

 

Marilyn looked down at her desk. 

 

The principal looked around the room. "Oliver Rojas and Ms. Marilyn?" 

 

Oliver and Marilyn both met the principal's eyes. 

 

He motioned to them with his finger. "You two—let's get going." 

 

Shit, Oliver thought, he's pissed. What the hell did I do?? I've only been at school for one day! 

 

They made their way to the principal's office, and as soon as they walked in, Oliver realized. 

 

Sitting in the seat against the left wall was Erica. 

 

"Take a seat you two," he said, going to his desk. 

 

Shiiiiiit! Oliver kicked himself. I should've realized she would've… uggghhhhh, damn! 

 

Oliver and Marilyn took their seats in the two chairs in front of the principal's desk. Marilyn seemed miles more comfortable than Oliver was. 

 

The principal looked at Erica, who held her arms and pouted sadly. He then looked at Oliver and Marilyn, the latter of which eagerly met his eyes with a smile, while the former hid in his hoodie. 

 

The principal folded his hands. 

 

"Well, let's just get straight to the point, you two—do you know why you're in here?" 

 

He looked between Oliver and Marilyn. Oliver was about to deny, say no… before seeing Marilyn’s cocky smile in the corner of his eye. 

 

Shit! The bet!... Dammit! 

 

She smiled dominantly, half shrugging. 

 

He was challenged. 

 

"Yes." 

 

The principal and Erica both raised their eyebrows. 

 

"Oh. Would you care to explain, then?" 

 

Marilyn jumped in. "I think Oliver is a little confused, sir—what exactly are we in here for?" 

 

He sighed. "You two are in here because Erica claims you, Ms. Marilyn, attacked her in the mall, causing intense physical and collateral damage to both Erica and the mall. And, she claims you, Mr. Rojas, prompted her to do that. Is that true?"

 

WHAT THE %@#$?!? THAT LITTLE %@$#ING B*TCH! He screamed inside. 

 

Even Marilyn was offended. She met Erica's eyes, who smirked like a smug b*tch.

 

She turned to the principal. "Sir, that's not true! She started it by ruining my lunch and smacking my cheeseburger when I was trying to be nice, and, excuse my language, calling me a b*tch. So…" 

 

"You can't hit someone for calling you a name."

 

"I didn't hit—"

 

"Yes you did, don't even try to lie!" Erica yelled. 

 

Marilyn whipped her head around. "You stay out of this, you little—"

 

"What? What am I, Marilyn?" 

 

"OKAY, LADIES—ENOUGH," he said, yelping them both into a short silence. 

 

"…okay, so maybe I hit her. But, I mean, it wasn't even that hard. I bet it didn’t even hurt." 

 

"The mall staff said you sent her…" He looked at some papers on his desk, ""flying across the room.""

 

"Th–they're lying! That's a total exaggera—"

 

"They have video proof from the security footage, which caught the whole thing." 

 

...Shit… Marilyn thought. 

 

She wanted to serve Erica straight—everything in her did. But if she couldn't, then s

 

He turned to Oliver. "Mr. Rojas, did you see Marilyn hit Erica?" 

 

"N—!" 

 

He was about to scream it, but felt Marilyn’s condescending smile. She narrowed her eyebrows, smiling wickedly. 

 

This wasn't a challenge…

 

It was a war. 

 

"Y…yes," he hissed. 

 

"...Okay. Well how about this: did you tell Marilyn to hit Erica?" 

 

SHITSHITSHIT…

 

"...Yes." 

 

Erica's face twitched for half a second, glancing over at Oliver. 

 

The principal wasn't amused. He was next to seething. "Okay, that's it then—you're both suspended. For a week. Go get your things from class; you're done." 

 

Erica looked at Marilyn (who seemed oddly at ease), mouthing the words:

 

Karma's a b*tch, b*tch. 

 

Marilyn shrugged and smiled, making Erica even more mad. 

 

The two of them got up and left the principal's office, and Marilyn skipped around. "Well, Oliver," she said with a smile, "thanks to you, we don't have to go to school for a week " 

 

"Yes," he said, pissed.

 

They walked into the classroom, took their belongings, and left. 

 

As soon as they passed the school gate, Marilyn burst into laughter. "I can't believe you actually did that!" 

 

"Yeah, well I did," he snapped, "so pay up. Now."

 

She giggled, taking out her wallet. "Okay, okay—here." She handed him $100. 

 

He pocketed it. "Stop laughing!" He yelled. "It's not funny!" 

 

"Oliver, it's okay."

 

"No, it's not! It's the first week of school, Marilyn!" He couldn't believe it… this was how his first year of high school was starting. 

 

"Oliver, it doesn't matter. You're not just a kid anymore—we're heroes. Saving the world is more important than school. Now, we can train all day." 

 

Oliver looked at her, carelessly half-skipping. She was so… strange. But at the same time, he couldn't help but enjoy her company. 

 

"C'mon Oliver, let's go!" She yelled, running off. 

 

"Hey—Wait for me!!"

 

End of chapter 6

 

If read this far thank you and have a good day!!!!!!

 

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