Miscreants: Next Generation

Out of the whole collection, this was the story that stuck with me the longest.
It reminded me of a certain boy I knew.
I was warned about him, too.
They painted him as a miscreant without directly saying the word. I was made out to be an angel that needed to be protected from his degeneracy.
If they knew that all the caution tape used to divide us only encouraged our rebellious curiosity, would they have done anything different?
Would it have mattered?
Just like in the story I couldn’t get out of my head, Samael and I ignored all the warning signs and red flags.
There was only one thing I didn’t know yet.
Which one of us was Icarus, and who was the sun?
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I rubbed at my face one last time before creeping out from behind the building.
I’d been hiding here for the past fifteen minutes, thanks to that asshole Francis.
I darted across the grass and stepped onto the walkway, pretending I’d been walking along it the whole time. Not seeing Bella or my brothers around had a sense of relief washing over me. They would’ve asked too many questions. It was embarrassing enough being so easily overtaken by him; I didn’t want to have to explain the situation to anyone.
I hurried the rest of the way to Samael’s, waving to the few acolytes I happened to pass. He and his family’s unit sat closer to the main house where Bella and her parents lived.
Reaching the front door, I smoothed down my shirt and then went inside. I never bothered to knock. Mom would have a stroke if she knew that. She was an etiquette tyrant. I caught the storm door before it could slam itself closed, pulling the oak one shut too.
I twisted around and jumped slightly, finding Samael practically right in front of me. I hated when he did this—moved about like a freaking ghost.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re late,” he remarked passively before turning away.
I followed him down the entry hall, scowling at his muscular back.
“Is Bella here?”
“No.”
“Then isn’t she the one late?”
We rounded the corner and went down the wide step that led to the family room. We were going to our usual hangout—the den that was Samael’s exclusive space.
No longer in the main hall, the light coming in from the windows allowed me to see him better. His hair was damp, making it appear darker than it already was with a bit more curl than usual, indicating he’d just gotten out of the shower.
He wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of grey lounge pants that hung a just low enough to see his well-defined V. On his feet were the customary black boots most of the guys sported around here. I made a conscious effort not to look at anything below his waist.
“You trained today?” he asked.
“Is the sky blue? You know my dad doesn’t let me skip class, no matter how pointless it is,” I tacked on quietly.
“I’m looking forward to the day you realize you’ve severely underestimated yourself.”
I rolled my lips into a pout. Leave it to him to hit the nail on the head without needing an explanation. It didn’t matter what he or Bella said to reassure me, I knew I wasn’t on the same level as the other Savages our age.
If it were only Belladonna I had to compare myself to, I wouldn’t feel so bad. She shined brighter than all our peers. The problem was that it wasn’t just her.
It wasn’t like I didn’t try. I really did my best, but nothing changed. I felt depressingly inadequate.
Samael sat on the arm of the leather sectional. I went straight to the fridge in the back corner. As always, his mom had stocked it with some of her juice-filled mason jars. It had to be a form of art to get the taste right every single time. She did this specially for me and Bella.
Samael didn’t drink it, which was a crime he should’ve been punished for. I grabbed one and popped the lid off, taking a generous swig. Drinking the cool liquid in this heat was one of the best feelings on earth.
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.” I sighed dramatically, savoring the different flavors.
He stared at me with the same annoyingly obscured expression as always.
“When’s Bella going to be here?” I cleared my throat and asked.
We were supposed to be discussing how to sneak off the compound today. See, stuff like this I was good at. Need someone to make a mess of something and thoroughly screw things up? I was your girl.
“Whenever she gets here.”
I took another sip, unbothered by his bluntness. I’d been friends with him way too long for it to get to me anymore.
Samael came off like an impenetrable wall of ice, but that was just his surface. Beneath that solid barrier were so many layers I’d stopped keeping count. I was lucky to know the sides of him he never showed anyone else. His mysterious aura had all the girls on the compound marrying him inside their heads.
Samael was sinful. His eyes were the deepest shade of brown—closer to black. Sometimes when I looked at them, I felt as if I were staring into an endless stretch of midnight. His hair was just the same. He kept the obsidian locks long on top with a mid-fade. And since he was stuck in his house the majority of the time, he’d made good use of the exercise room.
So, going off looks alone, I completely understood where they were coming from. Thank Satanas my other best friend was his cousin. We knew he was more than something nice to look at.
Since he was still staring me down, I