Tryst Six Venom

by Douglas, Penelope

  But actually, I kind of like it. Maybe I want to study forensics in college.

  Or maybe I thought it would be useful when helping Mrs. Gates. Some of the bodies that come in are pretty interesting.

  I walk to class, entering the lab, but as soon as I enter, I see Liv immediately. I stop, my heart leaping.

  She reaches up to the blinds on her tiptoes, her black Polo and skirt creeping up, and her shiny, black hair spills down her back in waves. I ache.

  She closes the blinds, blocking out the sun, and turns around, red lipstick beautiful and lips looking like they were never swollen from my kisses. Her skin perfect, like it was never hot underneath me.

  There’s no evidence of me on her at all anymore.

  I stand there, waiting for her to look up, but she doesn’t.

  Strolling up to her, I drop my book on the lab table next to hers and reach around her still body, taking one of the tests McCreedy put on our tables.

  “This isn’t over,” I say in her ear.

  She doesn’t turn around or respond. Her head bowed, she puts her name on the packet and slides a stool across the floor, sitting down.

  Students mill around us, entering and finding their seats.

  “You came back to school,” I point out, labeling my packet too.

  She must want more if she came back. And looking her best today, too.

  I look over my shoulder, her back still to me as she begins.

  “Say something,” I growl in a low voice.

  But she doesn’t. It’s like I’m not even here.

  I mean, what did she think was going to happen? I was ambushed, and we’re not dating. That pizza was the first time we’d spent any time together amicably.

  I grab my test and pencil and swing around to her table, taking the seat across from her. This isn’t my lab table, but oh well. “I don’t apologize,” I tell her. “So you may as well exhale, because it’s not happening. We’re both leaving, there’s no commitment, and you knew the score.”

  She stares at her test, writing and checking boxes as if I’m not talking.

  I narrow my eyes. What the hell does she want from me? Fight with me. Do something!

  But I don’t know how to battle this Olivia. She won’t talk.

  I stare at my test, the teacher starting the timer on the projector and flashing the screen on the whiteboard.

  “I gave you my virginity,” I whisper.

  Her pencil pauses.

  “I’ve had opportunities, Liv.” I swallow, coming as close to an apology as I can manage. “I didn’t hesitate with you.”

  I search for her eyes, but she still won’t look at me.

  “I never wanted you to stop,” I tell her.

  I want more. I want it again.

  I want more right now.

  My head spins with all the secluded spots we could find in this school, but I know she won’t forgive me that quickly.

  Ronald Baxter takes the seat next to me, and Liv finally looks up, meeting my eyes. Her gaze falls to my mouth, and I think she might brush her foot over mine under the table or something, but she takes my test, turns on the Bunsen burner, and I watch wide-eyed as she lights the corner, the papers going up in smoke.

  I see Ronald freeze out of the corner of my eye, watching.

  “You left me in the rain,” she says quietly, the white papers turning black, curling and peeling. “You left me behind in the rain while you drove off with that prick.”

  I stare wide-eyed as my test turns to ash.

  “No commitment works for me, but you damn well better be where you say you’re going to be,” she bites out.

  And before I can even worry about what Ronald is making of what she’s saying, she dumps my test into the sink, and walks away, taking her papers with her.

  Shit.

  I flex my jaw, watching as she says something to the teacher and then leaves the room. I flip on the faucet, putting out the fire, and snarl at Ronald to mind his own business.

  Okay. So, she’s not going to forgive me quickly.

  Fine.

  But she will forgive me. She just really won’t like how far I’m willing to go to force it.

  I swipe Ronald’s test, ignoring his look, and erase his name, writing my own. The first four questions are already done. Thanks, Ronny.

  • • •

  Callum stares into my eyes, swinging me around the dance floor and moving like water. He’s perfect. His dark blond hair is swept up, off his forehead, and hugs his ears. His flawless skin and bright smile. His hazel eyes and how he rises several inches above me—in control, dominant, my protector. Everything my family wants for me, but nothing about it feels right. If he were Liv, I’d be pulling him in close. Wrapping my arms around him like a steel band and reveling in the promise of his mouth.

  I catch sight of us in the mirrors that cover three of the four walls, windows covering the last one. We’re both still in our uniforms, his white button-down untucked, and his tie loose, while my saddle shoes lie underneath the row of chairs against the wall of the studio, the heels on my feet required for our lesson.

  “Bigger steps!” Ms. Broderick, the instructor, chants. “Keep your head up!”

  She walks around as the couples move. We’ve practiced the waltz for the ball so much that there’s no way we can get it wrong now, and she should just let us leave. I hate how he’s looking at me. Not leering so much as challenging me. He knows something, and I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.

  “I think you’d get tired of my shit,” I say as we spin.

  “Keep your head left!” Broderick shouts for the millionth time.

  I face left. “You can get from anyone what you’re hoping to get from me.”

  “Getting it isn’t the challenge,” he replies. “Getting it from you will be so much sweeter.”

  A spark lights up his eyes, the words coming off as more of a promise. Like it’s inevitable, because he always wins, and he’s not afraid of a little hard work.

  Honestly, he is pretty perfect. Direct, and he doesn’t treat me like a delicate flower. I’ve always appreciated that. Most women would find him overwhelming. Brusque, even. They need to be seduced. They need to be romanced.

  They need to be lied to.

  He doesn’t do that.

  “Why not tell me to take a hike?” he asks. “Anyone could escort you to the ball, and you couldn’t care less if it were me.”

  No, but… It’s not like I have anyone else in mind either. I want to go to the ball. It’s a family tradition, and it’s my night. I want it.

  I can’t walk out on that stage alone, can I?

  “I’m worried there’s something in you that I don’t yet see,” I tell him plainly. “Maybe I’ll still see it.”

  A smile grazes his lips. He appreciates my candor, too.

  “Feel the music!” the teacher calls out, stopping Amy and her escort and straightening their shoulders.

  The chandeliers sparkle above us, and I look away, facing left again as we twirl. The last of the sun glows against the orange wall, the light slowly moving down, down, down as the clouds roll in and thunder cracks.

  But instead of staying at home as recommended tonight due to the storm coming, there’s a party at the lighthouse. I’m supposed to meet my mother as soon as dance class is over, but the lighthouse is across the tracks, and it’s been a long week, busy ignoring Liv as much as she’s been ignoring me.

  And stupidly thinking she’d give up and come chasing me when she wanted more.

  But she didn’t, and I’ve let her stew long enough. She’s going to look at me tonight.

  “My father sleeps with his stepdaughter,” Callum says in a low voice.

  I meet his eyes.

  “What do you think of that?” he asks.

  My pulse quickens. Macon had outed the Ames’ and my family at Night Tide, and while anyone who’d heard had apparently done us the service of not bringing that shit up again, Callum is clearly still thinking
about it.

  What do I think of that? Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. About any of it.

  “I think we’re dogs,” I tell him. “And I think perfectly tailored suits and European cars hide it really well.”

  St. Carmen looks good. I look good. And people judge you differently when your lawn is manicured. When you shop at the best stores. When you’re picked up in Town Cars.

  “But we’re still dogs,” I murmur.

  He moves his hand on my waist, circling his arm around me, and pulls me into him. I stop breathing. He holds me tight against his chest, his breath on my forehead. “That’s why I don’t get tired of your shit,” he whispers down on me. “Or of never getting any reciprocation from you.”

  I grip his shoulders, about to push away as we stop dancing.

  “You’re afraid of the dirt, but you know it’s there.” His mouth trails a line across my temple. “And when you get it all over you, Clay, I want to be there.”

  I gaze into his eyes, finally seeing something in him I didn’t before. I haven’t been in as much control as I thought.

  And I’m not completely unexcited by that prospect.

  He picks me up, cocking his head and surveying me like a snake. “Who’s giving it to you?” he asks. “I know you’re not a virgin anymore, and I know it was recently.”

  Instead of getting nervous, though, I smile. It’s nice not to have the hard discussions. I’m glad he knows.

  “I won’t tell,” he whispers. “I just want to hear about it. Where does he do it to you at?”

  She does it to me in secret.

  “In a car?” he presses. “In a cheap motel? One of the Jaeger boys, maybe?”

  I warm between my thighs, thinking about the Jaeger girl and how much more I want to touch her. He’s got the wrong details, but he’s on the right path.

  “I’m not jealous,” he assures before a gleam hits his eyes. “I’m hard.”

  I don’t feel it, but I take his word for it. I try to push out of his hold, not liking the weight of hanging from his arms. A reminder that he can always overpower me.

  “I’ll keep your secrets,” he says. “You keep mine, and what a team we’ll be.”

  I study him, kind of hating him for trying to make this so easy on me. Like my grandmother, he’s absolutely fine with me having everything I want as long I shut up about it.

  Maybe this is my future. The one way I get to keep Liv. How many husbands will be as understanding?

  “That’s enough, you two,” Broderick snaps.

  Thunder rolls across the sky, and I swear I can feel it vibrate through the room as Callum drops me to my feet. He laughs, because everyone’s heads are twisting around, trying to see what the hell we’re doing.

  “All right!” the dance teacher claps. “That’s enough for today! Practice at home this weekend. Chin up.” She tilts her chin up, demonstrating. “Watch your footwork and feel free to join my group class this Sunday afternoon for a little extra practice!”

  Everyone heads for their gear and to change back into their shoes, and Callum pulls me back into him, hugging my back. “I want to see you really dance now.”

  I shove his hands away, spinning around and walking backward for the chairs. “All you do is talk.”

  His eyebrow arches up, and I catch a smile before I spin around and get my gear.

  I don’t change my clothes, simply slipping on my shoes and taking my bag before we jet down the stairs and out the door. We step onto the deserted sidewalk, wind kicking up debris and the palms on the trees flapping. My hair flies around me, and he tosses me a look over the hood of his car. I should take my own ride, but… It doesn’t get old. Fucking with her head. Forcing her hand. I climb in, tossing my duffel onto the floor.

  Amy and a couple other girls pile into the back, giggling as the wind whips under their skirts, and Callum fires up the engine as Amy passes me a flask from the back seat.

  I hesitate, feeling Callum’s eyes on me. Alcohol has a way of making you do shit you wouldn’t normally do, and I should keep a clear head around him.

  But my head has never been clear. Ever. Screw it. I close my eyes, tears I didn’t realize were there gathering at the corners as I tip the flask back and swallow a mouthful. Then another. And one more.

  “Hey!” Amy laughs, tapping my shoulder. “Save some for me.”

  “Let’s go!” Callum calls out, shifting the car into gear, and laughter fills the back seat as he speeds off.

  Where the hell is Krisjen? Meet you at lighthouse? I text her. I should give her a verbal kick in the ass for doing my job and bringing Liv to the away game without speaking to her captain, but I can’t be mad about how that night turned out. Despite the fact that we still lost.

  I reach over the seat, snatching the flask out of Amy’s hand as I take another drink, finishing off the last of it. Already, the warmth of it starts to coat my veins like a nice, thick syrup, and I relax a little.

  I don’t give a shit that Krisjen went over my head, or that Callum wants to watch me roll around in the mud like a pig for his entertainment.

  I don’t care that I had sex for the first time last week and it was with a girl, and I don’t care that it keeps hurting every moment I realize that some part of me isn’t touching some part of her.

  I toss the flask back into Amy’s lap as we cruise across the tracks, “Cool Girl” playing on the stereo and the sky darkening to a steel gray. Clouds overlap clouds as the sea in the distance fills the air with its scent, nice and thick so that when you inhale, it’s almost like you’re eating.

  I lie my head back, enjoying it while I can. I’ll miss this weather. I hate the cold, and while North Carolina isn’t the North, it’s north. Florida is south, but it’s not the South in the same way other states are.

  It’s Miami and Cuban sandwiches. Music and history. Explorers and conquerors. Tacky-ass mailboxes and flip flops all year long.

  It’s how we’re vampires who love the night, because the sun’s not beating down on us. It’s the swamps—the mangroves, the shade and the hidden spaces underneath the Spanish moss, the tall birds with their long legs quiet and still in the calm waters…

  It’s the summer monsoons and the reptiles that keep you sweating and your heart jumping out of your chest. It’s laughing at the ‘Florida Man’ jokes right alongside the Yankees, knowing full well come retirement, they’ll be jetting down here to play golf, eat the seafood, and stay warm, because nothing beats the subtropics.

  I know college isn’t forever. I can always come home. And until recently, I wasn’t really dreading leaving.

  But now, I’m counting the days like an inmate on death row. Before I know it, a week has passed. Then a month. Soon, it’ll be summer, and I’ll be leaving a part of my heart behind. Everything feels wrong.

  “Hell yeah!” Callum howls out the window to Milo as he swings into a spot on the side of the dirt road.

  “Yay!” Amy squeals. Everyone in the back seat scrambles to get out, and I exit the car, pulling my Polo over my head and tossing it into the vehicle.

  The lighthouse rises above us, a coral pink barely discernible against the black sky, and I dig my crossbody bag out of my duffel and slip it over my head before slamming the door. Everyone else runs ahead, while Callum falls in at my side, scanning down my tank top and taking my hand. “Let’s go do some stupid shit,” he says.

  I close my eyes, inhaling the air charged with whatever’s brewing tonight, smelling more than just fucking rain. Storms carry promise. Something—anything—is about to happen, and people are always on the verge. Ready to run. Ready to be surprised.

  “Fall” by The Bug spills out of the lighthouse, the steps leading up the foundation to the open door already filled with people standing around or coming and going. We walk into the structure, the sounds of the waves outside crashing onto the beach, but you can barely hear it as we enter a cave of darkness and smoke, the air thin with so many bodies crowded into such a small space. Speakers
hang over the sides of the spiral staircase, and bodies I can’t identify loiter on the steps as far up as I can see.

  “The Jaegers are here,” Amy shouts in my ear.

  “Oh?”

  I stop myself from looking to see which Jaegers she’s talking about, but when Callum slides an arm around my waist from behind and holds me like I’m his, I let him. Even going so far as to caress his hand over my stomach.

  “Probably keeping an eye on their flag,” I tell her.

  She shoots me a wicked look, and I think we’re both wondering how much trouble we’re in for tonight, especially since we’re on their turf.

  I turn my head over my shoulder, inviting Callum closer and snuggling into his body. “I’m gonna dance.”

  “I’m gonna watch.”

  His mouth comes down, and I come in, but before he kisses me, I dive into his ear instead. “I hope you like it,” I say, talking loud over the music. “You’re gonna watch me a lot.”

  And I pull away, biting my bottom lip and teasing him with my eyes all the way to the dance floor with Amy.

  She’s here. Liv sees me. I know she does.

  And if she won’t let me have her, then I want her pissed. She thinks she’s punishing me, but she’s going to learn the meaning of the word tonight.

  The music pumps, rain hangs in the air, and I tip my head back as the energy rocks my body. Everyone jumps to the music, and I smile.

  Letting my eyes drift around the room, I flash my gaze here and there—feeling her—but before I can find her, I spot Krisjen. I pause, watching her dance with Trace Jaeger, half-hidden behind the stairs with her back into his body.

  He glides his hands all over her, and my first thought isn’t her boyfriend who’s here and about to catch them. It’s how lucky she is that she can let her Jaeger paw her in public, but she still won’t suffer half as much as I would if mine were doing that.

  I roll my hips, moving my arms and bouncing on my feet, and as I twist my head side to side with the beat, I see her.

  I think I see her.

  I keep going, back and forth, blood rushing to my head as I take more of her in every time I turn right. It’s her. Sitting on a pile of crates and leaning against the wall, her head tipped back, one arm hanging over her bent knee, and the other leg dangling over the side.