Dealing With Damen

I didn't understand his meaning and I shook my head in confusion.

"What about it?"

"Don't you know?" he asked almost incredulously. I was starting to get ticked.

"Spilling salt is bad luck, E," clarified June. I rolled my eyes; typical June being such a superstitious baby.

"So?" I retorted, waving my arms at the other objects on the table threatening to knock 'em over. "It's not like it's the end of the world."

I heard something that sounded like someone clearing their throat and looked up to see the boy averting his gaze from my own. Seriously? What was the deal with these two, I thought. I fidgeted a while before deciding to change the subject.

"Are you going to sit down?" I asked him. He snapped his head back to me and it wasn't until that moment did I really take in the color of his eyes. A cool green, mirroring that of the natural colors of the forests. He glanced down at the empty space next to me and I patted on the seat invitingly. He complied and sat down.

"What's your name?" I inquired. He didn't reply at first; opting to stare at me and observe me thoroughly before responding.

"Damen," he murmured.

"Where'd you come from?"

"E!" chimed in June.

"What? Am I being rude?" She replied with a look. One that I knew all too well in the many years that I've known her. I sighed and rubbed my left temple.

"Sorry, Damen. I suppose you're very busy and you need to get going."

"I can't."

I grinned to myself gazing aimlessly at a barren part of the table. "Sure you can. I'm not holding you back."

"You are."

I glared at him, mostly in confusion. "Why do you say that? What did I do?"

His eyes flashed back to the overturned salt-shaker and I groaned, frustrated. "Look, I get that you're a superstitious dude, but I don't believe so therefore it won't work. Or would you like me to throw a pinch of salt over my shoulder to put an ease to your mind?"

"It won't matter now. It's too late."

"Then what is the problem??"

"He means it's too late, E," said June. "You're now cursed with bad luck."

"Oh, please."

"This sounds serious, E."

"That's because you're an idiotic, gullible fool."

"Don't be an ignorant ass!"

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "C'mon! Do you honestly expect me to believe that spilling salt is bad luck and that throwing it over my left shoulder- "

"DON'T-!!" It was at that moment when I motioned throwing salt over my left shoulder that Damen grabbed my arm to stop me from moving. He cursed under his breath at the sound of car horns blowing and tires squealing.

"Get away from the window!" The arm he had a hold of was tugged at the strength of his grip, forcing me from the comfort of my place in the booth and running towards the section with June, though confused, following shortly behind.

Not seconds afterward was the side of the building crashed into by a beige mini van, right were the three of us had been sitting. We took cover from the flying debris and when all was quiet once more, observed the damage done. Without hesitation, I ran forward to check if life still remained in the injured driver but was intercepted by Damen.

"What are you doing?!"

"He'll live."

"Bullshit! Let me through!"

"The strikes of bad luck only affect those who instigate it. The man has not been mortally injured."

Peeking over the top of his shoulder, I indeed saw the driver shake his head in confusion and appearing to be in perfect condition. I returned my gaze to the boy of green eyes and auburn hair who observed me with intense interest and sincere anxiety.

"So that one time when I looked over to see you..." I started slowly. "... You actually weren't there until I glanced over my left shoulder, were you?"

After carefully assessing my reactions and mental state, he slowly nodded to confirm my suspicions. I gulped, the weight of it all suddenly becoming heavier by the second.

"D-Does that mean... that you're... bad luck?"

He smirked. "You may even consider me to be... the devil himself."

The table where we once sat finally collapsed, a single item escaping away from the wreckage and rolling its way until it met the obstacle of June's foot. As she picked it up, the shape surprised me and my heart began to leap at the sight of a looming omen. But, upon closer inspection, I realized that the trinket she held in her hand was not the salt shaker.


"If you spill pepper you will have a serious argument with your best friend."