The Old Timer wags his bald head. “None. The GPL teaches you how to best lay down your lives for your ghoul masters, giving us time to escape in case of attack.”

A stunned silence falls over the group. No one moves.

Holy Hades! Sure, I wanted ghouls to realize demons aren’t allies, but I assumed they’d do something logical with the information, like leave Purgatory or build up some kind of army. But asking us to lay down our lives while they portal their asses out of here? Incredibly lame.

“OT-42 is exaggerating,” says Tank quickly. “You’ll learn other things too. Angel warriors will teach you some defense skills.”

My brow arcs. Angel warriors? Battle skills? This class just got upgraded to somewhat lame.

The Old Timer nods vigorously. “Angels have been giving us advice on how to prepare for, well, just to prepare in general. They’ll help with training.”

A memory pops into my mind: the day the Old Timer asked me to make worm soufflé. Cissy pointed out angels on the lawn. Everyone was shocked, but I was too excited about avoiding squishing worms to think about it too much. My eyes stretch wide with understanding. So that’s why angels were hanging around school. They’re helping ghouls to—what did the Old Timer call it again—to ‘prepare in general?’

Of course. The angels are here to help the ghouls prepare for another demon invasion. A shiver runs across my shoulders. Mom said Armageddon would never be happy with puppet-rule of Purgatory, and she was right. Again.

Cissy raises her hand. I feel a pang in my chest; I miss her. There must be some way to snap her out of this demon envy thing. She clears her throat. “Who exactly are we protecting and preparing for? Demons?”

The Old Timer sets his arms out, palms forward. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. Demons are our friends. Everyone knows that.” His eyes glow bright red.

I roll my eyes. Suuuuuuuuure they are.

“Let’s get started.” Tank blasts his whistle again. “I want you all to practice running around the yard, flailing your arms, and screaming ‘Take me! Take me!’ On my mark. Set. Go!”

The other kids break up into small groups and start walking around the field. Some get into the exercise and really ham it up. Cissy and Zeke stroll nearby, chatting and smiling. My heart finally cracks.

I walk over to Cissy and stand directly in her walking path. Our gazes meet. Her irises flare bright red.

Zeke scratches his neck with his hand. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” He quickly slips away.

Cissy keeps glaring at me, her eyes flaring brighter. This has so got to end, and much as I hate to do this, I think there is only one way to get her envy demon to go bye-bye.