They didn't push me into a locker.
That would've been easier.
Instead, they laughed.
Not loudly. Not cruelly enough for a teacher to notice.
Just soft enough to sound harmless. Just sharp enough to cut.
I stood by my locker, pretending my fingers weren't shaking as I tried to remember the combination I'd used for three years. My books were heavy in my arms. My backpack strap dug into my shoulder.
Behind me, I heard it.
"Did she seriously think he'd stay with her?"
Madison Clarke's voice. Bright. Confident. Untouchable.
The laughter came instantly. A chorus of girls who all wore the same cheer jackets, the same glossy smiles, the same look that said we decide who matters here.
I didn't turn around.
I already knew what I'd see.
Madison leaning against the lockers like the hallway belonged to her. Blonde hair curled perfectly, blue-and-white ribbon tied at her wrist. The captain's badge stitched onto her jacket, shining like a crown.
And beside her—
Ethan.
My Ethan.
Or at least, he used to be.
He didn't laugh. That somehow hurt more
He just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes drifting past me as if I were part of the wall. Like I wasn't someone who used to sit beside him every morning. Like I wasn't the girl who knew how he took his coffee, or how he hated loud music but pretended not to.
Madison stepped closer to him, her fingers brushing his arm.
"She's just… awkward," she said lightly. "You know? Not really cheerleader material."
Another ripple of laughter.
I finally turned.
Ethan met my eyes for half a second.
Then he looked away.
That was it.
No apology.
No explanation.
No guilt.
Just silence.
The bell rang. Lockers slammed shut. People moved around me like water flowing around a stone. No one said my name. No one asked if I was okay.
I wasn't.
In class, my seat felt smaller than it used to. I could feel whispers crawling across my skin.
Madison sat two rows ahead, perfectly straight, answering questions with confidence. The teacher smiled at her. Of course he did.
When she raised her hand, everyone listened.
When I did, no one noticed.
At lunch, my usual table was full.
Not because it had always been full—but because no one shifted to make space for me.
"Sorry," one girl said without looking at me. "We're kinda full."
She wasn't sorry.
I carried my tray to the corner of the cafeteria and sat alone. My phone buzzed once.
A message from Ethan.
We should probably talk later.
Probably.
I stared at the screen until it went dark.
By the end of the day, I felt hollowed out. Like something essential had been removed and no one had bothered to stitch me back together.
When I got home, the house was quiet. My mom was working late again. I dropped my bag by the door and went straight to my room.
I didn't cry.
That surprised me.
Instead, I sat on the floor and stared at the wall, replaying everything in my head. The laughter. The looks. Ethan's silence.
I thought about all the times I'd stayed quiet. All the times I'd told myself it wasn't that bad. That if I just endured a little longer, things would change.
They hadn't.
They never did.
I don't remember exactly when the thought came to me.
Only that it felt calm.
Clear.
Almost logical.
I opened my laptop and searched for something I didn't believe in.
How to summon a demon.
The results were ridiculous. Forums. Fake spells. People arguing in comment sections.
I clicked anyway.
Not because I believed it would work.
But because, for the first time, I didn't care if it didn't.
I read. I filtered. I rewrote the symbols in my notebook, adjusting them without knowing why. Something about the pattern felt wrong until I changed it.
The clock on my desk ticked past midnight.
I pushed my books aside and cleared the floor.
The chalk felt cold in my hand as I drew the circle. The symbols inside it looked nothing like the ones online anymore. They felt… older.
Real.
I laughed softly at myself.
"This is stupid," I whispered.
But my heart was racing.
I lit the candle anyway.
The air in my room shifted.
Not dramatically. Not violently.
Just enough for me to notice.
The flame flickered, bending inward, as if pulled by an unseen breath.
The temperature dropped.
I swallowed.
"I don't want riches," I said quietly, my voice steadier than I felt. "I don't want popularity."
The candle burned lower.
"I just want it to stop."
The circle glowed.
The shadows in my room deepened, folding into one another until they pooled at the center of the symbol. My breath caught as something stepped forward.
He didn't have horns.
He didn't have wings.
He looked… human. Tall. Dark-haired. Dressed in black like he'd always belonged in the shadows.
But his eyes—
They weren't human.
They were red. Deep. Endless.
He looked at me like I was something fragile and dangerous at the same time.
"So," he said calmly, his voice smooth and unhurried.
"You're the one who called me."
I should've screamed.
I didn't.
Instead, I stood there, heart pounding, and thought of Madison's smile. Ethan's silence. The way everyone had looked through me.
"Yes," I said.
He tilted his head, studying me.
"And what do you want, little human?"
I met his gaze.
"Everything they took from me."
A slow smile curved his lips.
"Then we have a contract to discuss."