Death is My BFF (The Death Chronicles Book 1)

The angel that had crashed through David’s office wasn’t in the news.

Wouldn’t an angel and a horde of demonic birds at least make the New York Times? That’s what I told myself, as I refreshed multiple news websites all weekend long, hoping to get some assurance that I wasn’t insane.

Now it was Monday morning, and David still hadn’t responded to my texts and calls. I had no idea what had happened to him Friday, after the horde of birds chased me through the D&S Tower, but at least I knew he was alive. If one of the Stars died, that would at least reach the news.

He’d protected me. David had moved in a blur to throw his body on top of mine, moments before the angel came crashing through the window. He’d effortlessly restrained the creature against his office wall. I’d be an idiot to assume David was human now. The question was: What was he?

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Death had saved me in the alleyway. Ever since the carnival date with David, Death always seemed to appear right after him and vice versa. I had my suspicions that it was no coincidence either. If I assumed David was Death, the next obvious question was why? Why gain my attention with two different personas? Why go on a date with me? Why become one of America’s most iconic celebrities? It didn’t make any sense.

A headache throbbed at the center of my forehead as I scrolled through my phone. Imagine my surprise when the first thing I saw on social media was more tabloid stories of me and David from the carnival. And a new video. It was dated Sunday, yesterday morning too. My heart pounded uncontrollably as I clicked on a mini clip of David Star getting bamboozled by paparazzi. They fired questions at him about “Mystery Girl” from the carnival, but he ignored all of them, shielding his eyes from the flashing cameras as he entered what appeared to be a coffee shop.

Had David not reported the angel accident?

Approaching the first panic attack of the day, I paced the floor of my bedroom, having no idea what to do at this point.

What if another deranged angel fell out of the sky, or a bunch of venomous demon birds tried to tear me apart again? Was I supposed to move on without any contact from David, like the most terrifying day of my life had not just occurred?

My parents. They were probably already suspecting something was wrong, and the last thing I wanted was for them to think I was going nuts. I couldn’t just skip school and hide out in my room for the rest of my existence. Besides, schoolwork kept my mind occupied. All I had to do was get through classes, and then I would track down David after school and figure out what the hell was going on. I could do this.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder as I headed out of my room, my eyes snagged on the little piece of paper I’d left on my vanity.

Death’s tenderhearted “tick-tock” note. Perhaps the only proof of what had occurred yesterday. The whole situation with Death was the cherry that capped off my crappy ice cream sundae life. Where did I even begin with that guy?

In an attempt to remain incognito, I wore my dad’s navy bucket hat and sunglasses to school. Paired with an old gray sweatshirt and leggings, my style had leveled up, bearing in mind last week’s I’m dead on the inside, day-to-day black ensemble.

“Love the bucket hat, chica,” Marcy said, stepping in sync with me as I shuffled with my head down through the hallway.

I tugged the strings of my sweatshirt until just my mouth and nose showed. “How’d you recognize me?”

“Magic.”

I shielded my face as we passed a group of varsity football jocks to stop at her locker. I had to be careful. It had only been eighteen hours, forty-two minutes, and ten seconds since the release of the viral articles about my date with David Star.

“I’ll assume you saw the articles,” I muttered.

“I texted you about it a bajillion times.”

“Sorry I missed your texts, my phone is acting up again.”

Marcy glossed her lips with a glittery wand. “I didn’t even get an update on Friday about you going into the city to see David. It’s fine, I like to be neglected.”

I gave an apologetic smile. “I’m not neglecting you. I’ll tell you more about David later, it’s kind of complicated.”

I wanted tell Marcy the truth about Friday, but between what had happened in David’s office, being mauled by freaking raven demons, and yet another bizarre exchange between me and the Grim Reaper, who would believe me? Heck, I was having trouble believing it myself. Nothing about the past few weeks made any logical sense.

Marcy, and even my parents, all had to be left in the dark.

“If it makes you feel any better, my weekend was pretty uneventful,” I continued with a sigh. “Mom forced me to watch recorded footage from a six-hour luau they went to. It was brutally long.” I was getting better at lying because even I felt a little convinced by the tall tale. “Believe it or not, Mom’s the one who told me about the articles. There were magazines covered with our faces all over the airport.”

Marcy capped her lip gloss and tucked it into her backpack.

“Has David talked to you about it?”

“Nope.” I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice. “He even had a quote in one of the magazines.”

I should have assumed wherever David Star went cameras followed, but he could have at least warned me. In all honesty, though, I was mostly angry because David had the nerve to ghost me after the attack in his office. He could have at least let me know he was okay. Instead, he’d stirred up more drama with the paparazzi and practically encouraged them to hunt me down, when I was already walking around like a cat on hot bricks with monsters popping up left and right in my life.

“Now I have David’s rabid fans to worry about,” I said. “It was nice knowing you, Marcy. You’ve been the world’s okayest best friend.”

Marcy nudged me in the rib with her elbow and we both laughed.

“Dude, you are such a diva today. David is a celebrity, what did you expect? Nobody would ever find out about you two?”

“I sure didn’t expect this. I’m a blender, Marcy. I blend. I never stand out. Blending is my forte, damn it. It’s why my incognito outfit is on point.”

“You do realize you have your last name on the back of your sweatshirt, right?”

“What?” Panicked, I gripped the back of my sweatshirt and practically broke my neck to get a peek. Sure enough, in gigantic black lettering was the last name Williams. I was wearing my old soccer sweatshirt from middle school. “Oh, come on!” I flattened my back against the lockers as a group of students passed by. “Marcy, what am I going to do? His fans are going to eat me alive!”

“Ah, it’ll blow over. I’ll find you a remote island where you can start a new life.”

“And befriend a volleyball named Wilson?”

“Exactly. Faith, babe, you know I’m the last person who should be telling you this, but you’re totally overreacting. It’s only an article.

I haven’t heard a single student talk about it.”

As if the universe was plotting against me, Nicole Hawkins, the most popular girl at school, and her two clones approached us, pointing at a magazine with my face plastered on the cover. Marcy and I tracked them with our eyes as they walked by.

“She looks kind of familiar,” one of the girls was saying. “Her hair is so long and silky. I wonder what deep conditioner she uses.”

“I bet those are extensions,” hissed Nicole Hawkins. “I hope she gets run over by a tractor. What a dumb bitch!”

Marcy snatched a hair dryer from her locker. “Fake a fever at the nurse and go home early?” she offered.

“Yup,” I said, grabbing the hair dryer.

About an hour later, I peeled out of the senior parking lot and headed home. The article and the ignored calls weren’t the worst issues I had with David Star. I needed to know what had happened in his office, and whether he was involved in all of this. It was the only way I’d get any sleep tonight.

The nurse had to get a hold of my mom to send me home, but since Dad had a long commute home and Mom had an important presentation scheduled at her office, I’d insisted they should both stay at work and let me go to the doctor by myself. Mom put money on my debit card to get medicine and whatever else I needed at the pharmacy. Now I had an excuse for coming home a little late for dinner and money to head into the city again.

Wow, I was getting good at this “rotten daughter who constantly lies to her parents” stuff.

There were two options here. Either I could let life beat me down and toss me whichever way it wanted, or I could grab it by its reins and take control of my fate. I chose the latter.

Sliding out my beat-up phone, I texted David.

We need to talk. Today.

Armed with one pathetic canister of pepper spray in the pocket of my hoodie, I entered the D&S Tower. Assaulted by the unexpected shrill shrieks of enthusiastic fangirls in the overcrowded lobby, I stood at the entrance in an introvert stupor before refocusing on my purpose.

Holy cow.

Good thing at home I’d swapped my previous hoodie for a Nike sweatshirt without my name on it. I drew the hood over my head and shoved through the obstacle course of flailing arms and girls snapping pictures, until I knew exactly what the commotion was about. An interview David had participated in that morning replayed on a massive drop-down flat-screen. I caught a snippet of it earlier before school but paused to rewatch it now.

“Good morning, I’m Stacy O’Casey, and you’re watching NYC

A-S-A-P,” announced the blond woman on the screen. “I’m here with megastar celebrity and heartthrob David Star. David, we’ve all heard the big news from your father, Devin. Can you tell us a little about the launch of your new art program?”

David leaned down to the microphone and locked onto the camera, brown eyes striking under the various studio lights pointed at him. “The goal of the program is to give underprivileged children of New York City an outlet and a safe space to be creative. We believe art is an imperative tool for kids to express themselves and cope with any negative emotions or mental health concerns they may be facing.

My team has been working tirelessly on this project to build the perfect team of dedicated artists and therapists to guide the children.

We consider this the first step to securing the future of all of New York’s children and improving the communities of our great city for generations. This project has been a very rewarding process, to say the least. I’m confident those who attend our premiere tomorrow evening, at the D&S Tower Halloween ball, will feel just as passionate about our cause as we do. All proceeds are going to deteriorating areas of New York that need your help the most.”

“How wonderful! You must be so proud of your accomplishments, young man.” She laid her hand on the swell of his bicep. She squeezed it a little too. Real subtle, I thought bitterly. “Modeling, acting, philanthropy, and all your responsibilities at the D&S Tower.

How the heck do you find the energy?”

“I have a secret weapon, Stacy. Due to my input in designing the most recent Sonic Nerve energy drink campaign, they gave me a ton of samples of their new beverage flavors. I’ve been downing these like they’re water. As they say, I’m not just a spokesperson, I’m a customer. We’re selling this flavor exclusively from D&S Enterprises for the next two days. If you scan the code on the back of the can with your phone, you’ll enter a sweepstakes, with the chance to attend the D&S Tower ball. As my date.”

He flashed his famous dazzling smile at the camera. The horde of fans in the lobby erupted into girlish screams, holding up their energy drink containers with David’s face on them that the merchandise sellers were giving out.

As the show cut to commercial, a short clip of David and Devin modeling in suits transitioned onto the screen. Time to get the heck out of there before the interview came back and the reporter asked anything about “Mystery Girl.”

I headed through security at the end of the lobby, took an elevator with five other people, and tensely watched them exit the claustrophobic space one by one. As I approached the top floor alone, the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach worsened. The memory of last Friday’s impossible events fired into me like war flashbacks, and I struggled to keep my breathing even. You can do this. You need answers. Did all of that really happen, or are you losing it? Adjusting the strings of my hoodie, I rubbed my clammy hands down my leggings and stepped off the elevator.

My vision tunneled as I neared David’s waiting room. Taking a deep breath, I shoved through thick glass doors to be greeted by an unwelcoming glare. Tiara, David’s receptionist, sat perched like a gargoyle behind her elevated circular desk. She wore a bright-red business suit that accentuated her ballerina waist, and her makeup sharpened her thin, chiseled features. I hated that she was perfect. I also hated that I loved her outfit.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Tiara said, peeling back her painted lips into a wry smile. “David’s unavailable.”

“Can you tell me when he will be?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I—”

“Mr. Star is a very busy man, Miss Williams. You’ll have to make an appointment. He may have something available next week.” She skimmed her computer screen far too fast to have read anything.

“Gosh, he’s absolutely booked this month. Can you come in four weeks from now?” Her expression soured. “That may give you time to upgrade your wardrobe.”

I inhaled slowly. “Listen, Tina—”

“Tiara.”

“Whatever, I know you dislike me,” I said, adrenaline shaking my entire body, “but I’m not in the mood for this shit. I’m functioning on zero hours of sleep, there’s a viral picture of me stuffing a hot dog down my gullet all over the world, my grades are tanking, and I need to see David to find out if I’m losing my mind or not. Either call David and tell him I’m here to speak to him, or I’m picking up that stupid D&S Tower Detox water cooler over there, breaking down his door, and causing a scene that will make what happened Friday seem like a namaste meditation oasis!”

Tiara gaped for a long moment, then plucked at her desk phone with her long fingernails. She pressed a button. “Faith Williams is here to see you.” She fidgeted with the ends of her hair. “Yes, I told her you were otherwise engaged, but she’s refusing to leave. She says it’s urgent.” Her expression fell a little in defeat. “Oh. Of course, my apologies. I’ll tell her now.” She hung up and switched to receptionist mode, centering her attention on her computer screen. “You may go in.”

The windows of the office looked exactly the way they did before the angel crashed through them. How was it possible? It had only been three days. David Star stood behind his desk, posed like a sculpture. He radiated authority, impeccably dressed in a dark-gray business suit that matured him. Chameleon mode: on.

“Have a seat, Miss Williams,” David said without looking at me.

“I’ll stand, thank you,” I snapped, matching his rude tone.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

My chest tightened. This was unexpected, to say the least.

“Why’s that?”

His head lifted, once familiar brown eyes so dark with disdain they were nearly black. He wore a cruel expression, impenetrable cold marble, and gazed at me like I was an unwelcome stranger. “We could have had this discussion over the phone. Would have saved you the time and money traveling.”

“I can afford traveling here.” I’d lied with an insecure need to defend myself. What’s up with him? “I called and texted multiple times. You could’ve at least texted me back.”

David leaned his hands on his desk and skimmed over a sheet of paper. “What do you want, Faith? I have an important meeting in ten minutes.”

“What do I want?” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “I want to know what’s going on!”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Why are you acting this way? What’s happened to you?”

His head flinched back slightly. “What happened to me? What happened to you?” He ran his fingers across his jaw. “Last Friday, you came here and made it very clear you never wanted to see me again.

Now you’re here again, and you’re asking me what happened to me?”

His laughter had an edge to it. “Are you serious?”

Blood rushed to my head. “No . . . ” I took an uneven step back, glancing at the once shattered window to my left. Everything, and I mean everything in that office, was exactly as it was before the angel crashed through it. I considered three possibilities here: Death had reset the room and wiped David’s memories clean, David was lying to me, or I had lost my mind and none of what I remembered ever happened.

I looked David dead in the eye. “The last time I saw you, an angel with a wingspan the size of a bus crashed through that window.” I pointed an unsteady finger to it. “You restrained the creature in seconds, as if it were just another day at the office. As if that wasn’t traumatizing enough, a bunch of horrifying bird demons manifested and tried to kill me in the alleyway outside your building!”

He scratched the back of his head. “Um, what?”

“This isn’t funny, David!” My heart thrashed wildly against its cage, and I fought to take a deep breath. “You were there with me!

It happened!”

“I don’t understand what your goal is here, but I don’t find this funny, and I don’t have time for games.” He picked up his desk phone.

“Don’t you dare call security on me! Ever since I met you and your father, all of this crazy shit started happening!” I pinched my temples as a migraine began to pound. “Either you’re lying to me and you have something to do with all of this, or your memories have been erased. That last one would really suck right now!”

David’s eyes hardened as a vein pulsed in his forehead. “You need to leave, Faith.”

A part of me thought if I kept talking about what happened, David’s memory would come back to him, but it only pissed him off.

Which I couldn’t blame him for if he was brainwashed into thinking I’d told him off the day before. But what if he was lying? I crossed my arms over my chest to hold myself together. There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his voice, and he was showing no signs of lying that I could glean. How could I get the answers I wanted from him without getting thrown out by security?

I refused to believe I was going off the deep end. “Are you lying to me?”

“What reason do I have to lie to you?”

I took a few tentative steps closer to him. “What happened Friday was real, whether you can remember it or not, and your mind being wiped clean is an easy way of getting out of this conversation.”

“And what exactly is the point of this conversation?”

“To get answers.” Something Death hates more than anything. “To help you remember.”

I looked down at David’s hands, which gripped the ledge of his desk. The last time I’d touched Death, I’d seen things from his past that I shouldn’t have. If I tried to touch David now, his reaction could be very telling.

“I think what you need is closure,” David said, and my heart skipped a beat at his callous tone. “Your personal problems no longer concern me. This was never going anywhere, Faith.”

It was my way out. An end to this charade, so I didn’t get wrapped up in David’s world on top of all the other chaos in my life. I never expected his cruel words to cut so deep.

David’s shadowy eyes flicked up to mine. His jaw set. Seeing that I was on the verge of crying, he shifted from one foot to the other, finally exhibiting an emotion outside of anger through his cold mask.

“I’ll call my driver to take you home.”

“I’m fine to take the train,” I managed to get out evenly.

He stared straight at the door, evading eye contact. “Then I’ll escort you to the lobby.”

Never in a million years would I have predicted myself allowing this man, this stranger I hardly knew, to hurt me like this. But he had, and I was a fool. Pull yourself together. My shoulders hunched. I was fighting so hard to hold back the waterworks that I knew if I opened my mouth, I would lose control, so I forced a pathetic nod.

In the elevator, I switched to Autopilot. Detached. Numb. David stood facing away from me, his hands clasped behind his back. His long fingers were fiddling with a rolled-up gum wrapper.

“If you ever need that pepper spray, make sure it’s not locked,”

David said. “Point it away from you before you spray.”

I stared at the back of his suit jacket for seven floors. “How’d you know I’m carrying pepper spray?”

“You keep touching a lump in your sweatshirt pocket. There should be a knob or a switch to make sure the canister isn’t locked.”

“Heard you the first time.” I’m not yours to protect, had almost slipped out childishly too. I yanked up the hood of my sweatshirt, remembering the chaos from all the fangirls in the lobby.

A hard rock riff blasted through the awkward tension. David took his phone out from his back pocket, silencing the noise.

The doors slid open. Neither of us moved. I could not breathe.

Prying my Converse off the ground, I forced myself to exit the elevator and hurried past him into the mayhem. Everything moved in slow motion, my mind whirling. By the time I looked back at the elevator, the doors were closed.

He had Death’s ringtone.