The following morning, Rafa stumbled through a dimly lit alleyway, his torn shirt fluttering like a flag of defeat in the brisk morning air. His jeans hung in tatters, remnants of his transformation clinging to him like a haunting memory. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, exhaling a heavy sigh as he scanned the shadows around him, half-expecting a stray cat or a trash can to leer at his misfortune. “Great start to a Saturday,” he muttered, sarcasm oozing from his voice. “Nothing screams ‘normal’ quite like waking up in an alley, looking like I just escaped a horror film.”
He fished his phone out of his pocket, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. Maybe Marisol had come to her senses and sent him a message.
But the screen remained stubbornly blank, offering no comfort. "Come on, Marisol," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Sure, I turned into a half-demon monster in front of you, but I mean, who hasn’t had a rough day before?”
Instead, another missed call from his mom flashed ominously, her name glowing on the screen like a beacon of impending doom. With a resigned sigh, he felt the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders. “I’m okay. I’ll be home later,” he texted, hoping to soothe her worries, though the truth felt like a boulder lodged in his gut.
His thoughts spiraled into a dark corner of uncertainty. Knowing how she felt about his father, what would she think of him now that he transformed into a demon himself? Would she see him as a reflection of the man she despised, a reminder of the darkness that had haunted their family? The thought twisted in his gut like a vice. He didn’t want to dwell on it too much, not now, not when he was still reeling from the night’s chaos. The last thing he needed was to face her wrath on top of everything else.
He began to pace, the cold concrete beneath his feet feeling unforgiving and hard. The shadows of the alley seemed to close in, a stark reminder that he was alone, in more ways than one.
After a moment’s hesitation, he shot a desperate text to Marisol, his fingers trembling as they danced over the screen. “Sorry! Please, let me explain: I really like you. Ice cream?”
As he waited, the chill of the morning gnawed at him, and he shoved his phone back into his pocket, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.
Just as he was about to plummet deeper into self-pity, his phone vibrated again, excitement surging through him. But when he looked at the screen, it was just his mom again. “Where the hell are you?! I’ve been worried sick! I’m coming to get you. Tell me where you are.”
Rafa rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Um, I’m in the ‘I-just-turned-into-a-demon’ phase of my life. So I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” He mused aloud, disregarding the text as he shoved the phone back into his pocket.
“Just my luck,” he muttered, leaning against the cool brick wall, “I save the day, and the girl runs off screaming. Guess I’ll have to add ‘demon’ to my dating profile.”
The alley loomed around him, shadows twisting like old fears. All he wanted was to explain—to show her that beneath the monster she saw, there was still the person she liked. But for now, he was just a guy in a ragged shirt, standing in a dark alley, waiting for a text that might never come.
…
Meanwhile, Marisol was buried in beakers and textbooks at home, working on her project with a friend. Her parent's living room had gradually transformed into a makeshift lab, thanks to the demon keeping her away from public facilities. Marisol and her friend were deep in discussion about their plans for the upcoming fair, but her mind kept wandering back to the bizarre encounter with Rafa and the demon.
She glanced at her phone briefly, and there it was—Rafa's name lighting up the screen like a neon sign in a horror movie. She hesitated, a wave of fear and confusion washing over her. Finally, she opened the message, shaking her head as if to dispel the tension. “Sorry! Please, let me explain: I really like you. Ice cream?”
Marisol couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering like a captive butterfly. The image of Rafa as a monster loomed in the corners of her mind, yet the thought of him sent a warm thrill coursing through her. Was it really safe to see him again? How could they even enjoy ice cream with that terrifying demon lurking just out of sight?
With a quick tap on her phone, she sent a text. “You already know I can't go to public places.” Just as her finger lifted from the screen, her friend nudged her gently. “You good?”
Marisol blinked, a mix of excitement and nerves washing over her. “Yeah, sorry, I just…” She felt an unfamiliar thrill of anticipation as she got a text back. “Don't worry about it, I got rid of him. Meet me at Sweet Treats Parlor.”
Marisol suddenly felt as if an unseen burden had been lifted from her shoulders. It had been so long since she felt so light, and an instinct deep within her urged her to trust Rafa.
She sprang to her feet, excitement bubbling over. “Sorry, Maya. Can we continue this in the morning?”
Maya shot her a quizzical look. “Marisol, the fair is tomorrow!”
“Yeah, but we’re pretty much done, right? Just gotta calibrate the—”
“The what?” Maya raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She sighed and said, “I mean, I guess so, but you’ve been acting a little strange lately. Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, concern etched on her face.
“Yes, I’m fine! Actually, could you drop me off somewhere, please? I promise to tell you everything on the way.”
“Oh, definitely,” Maya replied, her curiosity piqued as she gathered her things.
…
As the day wound down, Marisol was dropped off at the ice cream shop, where Rafa waited just outside the entrance. She waved goodbye to Maya as the car pulled away, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“Hey,” Rafa greeted, his voice warm and inviting.
“Hi,” Marisol replied, a vibrant smile breaking across her face despite the lingering fear from their last encounter.
As they stepped inside, the cheerful jingle of the bell above the door echoed around them. The rich aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of chocolate. The shop was cozy, with a few patrons scattered around, their laughter blending into the relaxed atmosphere.
“What’s your go-to flavor?” Rafa asked, scanning the colorful options displayed in the glass case.
“Definitely mint chocolate chip,” Marisol said, her eyes lighting up.
Rafa chuckled, his expression playful. “I’ll stick with good old vanilla. Can’t go wrong with the classics, right?”
They placed their orders, and the scooper behind the counter shot them a knowing smile, likely sensing the chemistry between the two. With their ice cream in hand, they found a corner table by the window, the moonlight spilling in and illuminating their faces like a soft spotlight.
“Cheers!” Rafa laughed, raising his cup toward hers.
“Cheers!” Marisol echoed, clinking her cup against his before taking a big scoop of her ice cream. “Mmm,” she savored, the cool treat melting away some of her nerves.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their ice cream and the shared warmth of the moment.
Marisol glanced at Rafa, who was busy wiping a bit of ice cream off his nose, and couldn’t help but smile. He was so handsome yet endearingly goofy. “You’re not gonna turn into a monster again, are you?” she asked, half-joking but with a hint of concern.
“Of course not! I mean, unless you're into that sort of thing,” he replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
“Oh god, no,” she laughed, shaking her head.
“C'mon, I’d never scare you like that, Marisol. I didn’t even know I could do that. It was that thing that was choking me, and then… everything just went black.” His tone shifted, a flicker of vulnerability seeping through.
“What was that thing?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “Is that what people saw when they looked at me?”
Rafa nodded solemnly. “It was a demon that someone cursed you with.”
Marisol frowned, her heart racing at the thought. “Now it all makes sense. I mean, I ran away just like everyone else did.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rafa said softly, reaching across the table to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. The warmth of his touch sent a flutter through her, and she felt her cheeks heat up as she met his gaze. “It’s gone now,” he assured her.
“Yeah, I can tell,” she replied, her voice slightly breathless, the tension in her shoulders easing. “But what if it comes back?”
“It won’t,” Rafa promised, his tone steady.
“But how can you be so sure?” she pressed, her eyes wide with worry. “And you? Why did you turn into that… that thing?”
Her heart raced, and instinctively, she pulled her hand away from his. Rafa hesitated, searching her eyes for understanding. “I think it was a defense mechanism. When I was in danger, the demon side of me kicked in. But I promise, I’m still me!”
Rafa's expression tightened as he looked down at the table, tracing the rim of his ice cream cup with his finger. “I just… I‘m sorry I scared you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don't want to be like him.”
Marisol’s gaze grew tender as she watched him, sensing the weight behind his words. “Who?” she asked gently.
“My dad,” Rafa said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “He’s... well, he’s not someone you’d want to know.”
Marisol's brow furrowed with concern as she leaned in a little closer. “What do you mean? What’s he like?” she asked, wanting to understand the shadows lurking in Rafa’s past.
He hesitated, uncertain whether she would believe him. “After everything you’ve seen, you have to believe me, right?”
Marisol shifted in her seat, her impatience bubbling to the surface. “Just spill it already!”
Rafa turned his head slightly, drew in a steady breath, and finally met her gaze again. “Okay, here it goes then: my dad… he’s the demon known as Asmodeus.”
Marisol's gaze sharpened as she fought to make sense of what he said. “Wait, what? I don't understand.”
“C’mon, you have to believe me, right?” he said, looking earnest.
“I guess after yesterday, I have no choice,” she replied, her voice wavering. “But I mean, how?”
Rafa smiled, unable to suppress his amusement. “My mom was into witchcraft when she was younger and ended up sleeping with one of the big demons. She claims she didn't know, but come on—did she just slip and fall on his... you know?”
“Rafa! Don’t say that. That’s your mother,” she laughed softly, breaking through her confusion. “Although, she does sound like a scary woman if that’s what she’s into.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not afraid of many things. But my mom is something else. I’m actually grounded right now for not coming home last night.”
“You didn’t go home?”
“Don’t you remember what I looked like? I couldn’t show up like that—I didn’t know how to turn it off.”
He gestured to his dirty clothes. “I found these in an alleyway! You might not smell it because of all the fancy aromas in here, but—”
“Oh trust me,” she said scrunching her nose playfully and letting out a laugh at Rafa's unamused expression. “But doesn’t your mom know what you are already?”
“Well, yeah, but she doesn’t like it when I get involved in anything paranormal or demon-related. She has this deep-seated hatred for my dad and wants to keep me away from anything connected to him. But that doesn’t stop me. The deal she made says he’ll come for me one day.”
“That’s pretty terrifying,” Marisol said, her brow furrowing. “Isn’t it?”
“Nah,” Rafa shrugged, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of his adventures. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff I’ve run into. Ever since she spilled the beans about him, I’ve been on this wild hunt for any signs of demon activity. It’s so fascinating that it’s messing with my other priorities, which is why my mom’s always riding my back about school.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her curiosity shining through as she tilted her head slightly.
“She thinks I’m going to flunk out because I prioritize demons over homework. But honestly, what’s the point? Why do I need school if my father is supposed to come for me one day? I don’t think Hell cares about a little high school diploma, right?”
Marisol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “But what if he never comes for you? Or what if he shows up when you’re 80?”
Leaning in with a playful smile, she added, “It’s always good to have a plan B, just in case you find yourself face-to-face with a half-demon-loving girl. Unless you plan on playing more with the ghosts than with me.”
“You’ve got a point there,” he admitted, warmth blooming in his chest. “Maybe for our next date, I could use your help to catch up on some of this work?”
“Sure, why not?” she replied, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’m practically finished with my science project anyway. You should come see it.”
“Yeah? What is it?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Well, if you come to the big science fair at the Institute tomorrow, I’ll be presenting it there. I’m the defending champion,” she said, confidence radiating from her.
“That’s awesome!” Rafa exclaimed. “You gonna take the crown again, or what?”
“I hope so. It would make my dad really proud.”
Rafa noticed her expression shift to one of deep thought and asked, “You okay?”
Marisol hesitated, looking away for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just… there’s been a lot on my mind lately.”
Rafa leaned in, his concern evident. “What’s going on?”
Marisol sighed, her defenses crumbling. “It’s just… my dad has cancer. He was diagnosed not too long ago, and it’s been really tough on my family.”
Rafa’s heart sank, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. “Wow, that’s a lot to take in.”
“Sorry, it’s just… I remember how happy he was when I won last year, and I want to see that joy again,” she said, her voice tinged with longing.
“I’m sure you’ll do great, Marisol. And hey, I’ll be there to cheer you on,” Rafa reassured her, his gaze steady.
After finishing their ice creams—Rafa making a theatrical show of slurping the last drops as if savoring the final moments of a grand feast—they strolled toward Marisol’s house. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and as they held hands, a warm connection blossomed between them, making the day feel even more special.
As they approached her front door, he glanced around, a hint of unease creeping into his expression. Marisol offered him a warm smile, her voice softening. “Hey, I had a great time today. Thanks for being you.”
Rafa’s heart raced, and a goofy smile spread across his face. “You too. I really like spending time with you, Marisol. I gotta say, it’s a little more fun than chasing down my dad.”
“A little?” she teased, her expression playful.
“A LOT more fun,” he corrected, his tone earnest. “I’m really glad I found you back at that bookstore.”
Marisol’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and Rafa felt a rush of satisfaction.
Just then, his gaze caught a shadow moving behind a nearby window. A chill danced down his spine as he noticed Marisol’s neighbor peeking through the blinds, his face twisted in a mask of jealousy and obsession. Then he remembered what Marisol’s demon had said to him, and the blinds snapped shut.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Marisol asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed Rafa’s sudden change in demeanor.
“Uh, yeah! Just thought I saw something,” he replied with a half-hearted grin. “You know how it is—probably a raccoon plotting world domination or something.”
“Raccoons can be fierce,” she giggled, but her concern lingered. “But seriously, what’s up?”
“Nothing! Just my imagination running wild,” Rafa said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the weight of Henry’s gaze still pressed on him, even with the blinds now closed.
As Rafa was distracted by the unsettling vibe emanating from her neighbor, Marisol leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “See you at the fair tomorrow,” she said, turning to go inside. Rafa felt his cheeks heat up, and for a moment, the unease that had gripped him lifted, replaced by a fluttering sensation in his chest.
As Marisol stepped inside her house, Rafa turned to leave, but an inexplicable urge compelled him to look back. He felt drawn to Henry's house once more before ultimately walking away, the sense of foreboding lingering in the air.