Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin by Lisa Desrochers

is a sin, in case you’ve forgotten. All this time I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to reverse your tag, but you’re going to make my job easy.”
    I turn to find him leaning against the wall next to my door. His smile glints like the edge of a blade.
    I breathe deep and clear the last vestiges of fog from my head. “You’re just jealous.”
    He cocks half a smile and pushes away from the wall. “I am, actually.” His smile pulls into a grimace. “But at the moment, I have bigger problems.”
    In a flash, his hand shoots out and grabs the collar of my T-shirt, slamming me against the wall. “Who did it?”
    I stare him down. “I don’t know.”
    His eyes flare red heat. He leans in, his nose an inch from mine. “Liar.”
    â€œThat’s what I do. It’s in my blood.” I twist out of his grasp and back into the door of my apartment. “Why does it matter to you?”
    He glares a hot dagger. “Because I need them to undo it so I can bring you back.”
    â€œSo, then, it probably wouldn’t be in my best interest to help you with that.”
    His roar echoes down the hall as I slam the door in his face.
    Frannie
    The party at the quarry dies, and Riley and Trevor drop Taylor and me off at my house. We run into Maggie and Delanie on the way upstairs to my room.
    â€œHey, Delanie,” Taylor says, catching her elbow. “Do you have Marc’s number? That guy from your band?”
    She shakes her head. “Reefer might. He does all the organizing.”
    Taylor plants a fist on her hip and gives Delanie a cynical smirk. “Well, can you get it?”
    â€œRight now?” Delanie asks in a you’ve got to be joking tone.
    â€œC’mon, Delanie.” Maggie’s hand is on the doorknob and she’s staring impatiently up the stairs.
    Delanie skirts past Taylor. “I’ll tell Ryan to call you.” She escapes out the door with Maggie.
    I roll my eyes and turn to head up the stairs. “Why don’t you just tackle her?”
    â€œI would if it’d get me that damn number,” Taylor mutters. She closes the door behind her then picks up my iPod and sticks it onto the speakers. She tosses me a bottle of aloe vera from her bag and sprawls next to me on the bed.
    â€œPut that on my back,” she says, pulling her shirt gingerly over her head and exposing glowing red skin. She lies on her stomach and unties her bikini top.
    â€œJesus, Tay. Did you ever hear of sunscreen?”
    She glares up at me. “Are you gonna put that on my back or what?”
    I squirt a big glob of it between her shoulder blades and smile when she screeches.
    â€œShit, that’s cold!”
    â€œSorry,” I say, not really meaning it.
    â€œBitch,” she says, totally meaning it.
    I rub it around her back, making a point to dig my fingers a little deeper than necessary into the reddest spots. Once I’ve done sufficient damage, I lean off the bed and wipe my hands on her beach towel, which is in a heap on the floor.
    â€œSo, what’d Brendan say, anyway?” I say, pulling myself back onto the bed.
    â€œYou should have heard him. Holy shit.” She sits up and tosses her shirt onto her towel. She starts to tie her bikini top, but winces and slides it off, throwing it to the floor on top of her shirt. “He’s all, like, ‘Baby, I missed you so much,’ and I’m thinking, Does anybody ever really buy this crap? And then he says, ‘You know I love you.’ And I couldn’t help it, I pushed him off the cliff.” Her eyes spark and a grin splits her face. “Did you hear him scream? Oh my god!”
    I laugh with the memory. “That was pretty pathetic.” I grab one of Kate’s Elle magazines and thumb through it. “Are you up for shopping on Thursday?”
    â€œI’m always up for shopping.”
    â€œThere’s a