Tryst Six Venom

by Douglas, Penelope

  “Just park over here,” I reply, instead, gesturing to the curb.

  I run my hand down her thigh, smooth in my leggings, giving myself one last moment of contact before I have to be close to her and not able to touch her for the next hour.

  “And yeah, I’m okay,” I say.

  My parents are splitting up. I don’t want to go to Wake Forest. I’m infatuated with someone that everyone else will make their business if it ever gets out.

  But I’m okay, because I have her.

  We head into the locker room, already empty, and drop off our bags before jogging into the gym.

  Weights clank, machines run, and giggles fill the air as our teammates chat, Coomer giving us the eye as we run in.

  I almost turn to check with Liv before I leave her, but I stop myself. We arrived together. People already noticed that.

  I walk away without a word, jumping on the treadmill next to Krisjen, Amy on her other side.

  “Hey,” Amy chirps.

  “Morning,” I say, realizing I forgot water bottles. “You, uh, made the appointments for mani-pedis next Friday, right?”

  I look to Amy before she has a chance to ask about why I’m late and why I walked in with Olivia Jaeger.

  “Yeah, I took care of it,” she replies. “Then we’ll be at your place for hair and makeup. I’m going to have my dress delivered the night before and steamed again.”

  “Good idea.” I look to Krisjen, seeing Liv out of the corner of my eye start on the shoulder press. “And your parents got the limo, right?”

  Krisjen’s mouth opens and closes, and it takes a moment, but she finally nods. “Yes.” Like she’s not sure.

  “It should’ve been done months ago,” I point out. “You’re scaring me.”

  We’re all handling our share to do this together. I’ve got hair and makeup. Amy is paying for mani-pedis. Krisjen has transportation.

  The boys will pay for prom, but the debutante’s families handle the ball.

  “It’ll be there,” Krisjen assures. “I said I got it. Don’t worry.”

  Now I’m worried.

  Amy takes something out of her pocket and reaches over Krisjen, setting it on the dash of my treadmill.

  “What’s this?” I ask. But my heart thumps in my throat, and I know what it is. I quickly pick it up and hide it in my hand, checking for the coach. The square foil packet crinkles in my fist.

  “You won’t buy them yourself, and you can’t rely on the guy,” Amy says quietly. “You’re welcome.”

  Krisjen laughs and pulls another one out of Amy’s pocket.

  “You are not sleeping with that dickhead again,” I whisper, scolding her.

  “You’re right,” she teases. “I’m not.”

  “Then who do you need one for?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Yeah, right. Please don’t let it be Trace Jaeger. They looked pretty hot and heavy at the lighthouse, and the last thing I need is to run into her as I come out of Liv’s bedroom one morning.

  But before I can worry about Krisjen, Amy starts instructing me. “You should just get it over with, Clay,” she tells me. “The first time will suck, but it gets better, and then it gets really good.” She checks for anyone listening. “The secret is priming yourself. Blow him while you finger yourself, and by the time he’s hard, you’ll be wet…”

  Ew, what?

  “Ugh, stop it,” I tell her.

  Way too much information. I think I actually almost gag.

  “You’re such a prude, Clay.” She snickers at me. “When you get good, it gets amazing, but you need to get good first. Just get it over with.”

  Images of Liv coming on my desk last night drift through my head, and I smile to myself. I am good.

  I slide the condom into the secret pocket inside the back of my leggings and start running. Liv completes her set and sits up, stretching her arms over her head.

  She looked so beautiful last night. She looks so beautiful all the time. What would she look like in a gown? With her hair on point and her makeup done?

  She sits alone, no friends around, without me next to her like I should be, and I’m getting sick of it. She shouldn’t have to be alone.

  Megan approaches her, the new girl Chloe at her side, and they talk to Liv, and while Martelle pisses me off, I’m a little grateful. She introduces Liv to the new girl, and Liv smiles, very different from the curtness she had toward her when she caught us talking yesterday morning.

  And the walls close in a little, watching them. Liv is going to realize she deserves more, and she’ll have no trouble getting it. Megan wants her, and I’m pretty sure Chloe isn’t straight either. Liv could pursue her. She’ll meet other women at college, too.

  Part of me wonders if Amy is right. Just get it over with. Maybe I need to know for sure. Maybe I should just screw Callum, so I know for sure.

  But I know I only want to do it in the hopes that I see something in him that will save me from having to take the step I’m so afraid to take. In hopes that I’m not in love with her, I don’t need to face anything, and I don’t need to suffer when it’s time to leave her.

  I don’t want him to touch me. My skin crawls just thinking about it.

  Liv looks over, meeting my eyes, and with a glance to my friends, she comes back to me and winks just covertly enough that only I notice.

  I can’t hide my smile as a blush crosses my cheeks. I feel right again. The weight of Amy’s awful words and the rubber in my back pocket are suddenly forgotten.

  “Liv’s leggings look just like the Michi ones you have,” I hear Krisjen say.

  I blink. “Huh?

  Liv walks to the stationary bike, and I notice the clothes I gave her to wear. I turn to Krisjen.

  “But it can’t be,” she says as she runs. “There’s no way she has two-hundred dollars for yoga pants, right?”

  And then she winks at me, just like Liv just did, with a smile.

  Fuck!

  • • •

  My knee bobs as I wait for the bell to ring, my fingers hovering over the keys of my laptop.

  Krisjen doesn’t know anything, right? And even if she did, she’s not a gossiper.

  Well, she joins in when we gossip, but she doesn’t perpetuate it. She wouldn’t say anything she wasn’t sure about, right?

  The bell goes off, and I glance over at Krisjen as she gathers up her materials and packs up her bag. I couldn’t get her alone at lunch, and Spanish is the only class we have together, so I stuff my things into my satchel and push through the others to join her at her side.

  “Look, don’t tell Amy that Jaeger and I are kind of friends,” I tell her as everyone filters out of the classroom. “I’m trying to grow up a little. She was late this morning. Forgot her gear. I let her borrow some clothes from my locker.”

  Krisjen doesn’t look at me.

  Sweat dampens my back. “Maybe I’m hoping she invites me over to where her hot brothers live,” I tease.

  But Krisjen continues to exit the classroom and then stops outside the door, stepping right to let the other students out.

  “Clay…” She holds a book to her chest and gives me a placating smile. “I may have let my piece-of-shit ex-boyfriend get away with so much, because I lack self-confidence and sometimes it was either him or home, and I didn’t want to go home,” she explains. “But it’s not because I’m a moron, so please, I’d rather you not explain at all than insult me with a lie.”

  My face falls.

  She pats my arm. “I’m here when you’re ready. See you in the gym.”

  She walks off, her brown ponytail swaying as she disappears into the crowd.

  Ugh, great. She knows. She totally knows.

  I push through the crowd, heading downstairs and into the hallway that’s flooded with more students. Eighth period has been cancelled for a pep rally, and locker doors slam, everyone trying to put away their materials so they don’t have to take th
em into the gym.

  Some of us skip the rally, though, and duck out early for the day. I don’t want to risk being caught with her out in the parking lot by the administration, but we can certainly hide out in the locker room until school is over.

  But as soon as I get closer to her locker, the crowd thins, and I see her. A few yards away, staring at something.

  I slow my steps, following her gaze.

  A noose hangs on her locker door as people pass by, some whispering, some oblivious, and some snickering.

  A noose. Like Alli Carpenter.

  Liv’s hand hangs from the strap of her bag, limp like she’s been deflated, and I look at her face, seeing shock turn to defiance as she closes her mouth and flexes her jaw.

  I just want to wrap my arms around her. I’m here. Baby, I’m here.

  She heads to her locker, dials in the combination, and opens it, the noose dangling against the metal.

  Without a look to the bystanders drifting back and forth with their eyes on her, I charge over and grab the noose, ready to yank it free of the tape.

  But Liv stops me. “Leave it,” she says.

  “Liv—”

  “Leave it, Clay.”

  I stare at her, the bite in her tone making it seem like she’s mad at me.

  “Why?” I ask, trying to keep my expression even.

  “Because it checks my reality,” she replies stiffly, stuffing her bag into her locker. “This isn’t the first time. It’s a little late to care now.”

  And she slams the door, heading straight for the gym. I watch her for a moment, alone in a sea of people, and it shouldn’t be that way.

  Part of me can’t wait until she leaves, because she’ll find a bigger world. But once she knows how much better the world is outside of St. Carmen, she’ll never come back.

  I drift into the gym, barely noticing the band pounding out a fight song to commemorate the spring sports line-up as I find her standing back, next to the bleachers.

  The drumline beat fills the air, vibrating under my shoes, and I walk up behind her, leaning in close and whispering. “I do care.”

  Slipping my hand between her and the bleachers, I take hold of her fingers. I half expect her to pull away, but she curls hers around mine, the silent despair peeking through.

  I don’t want to do this anymore. I thought it would be easy to hide. A long-distance relationship wasn’t going to happen anyway, so there was no need to go public.

  Just physical. Just fun. That’s all this is.

  But I’m sick of her being alone and excluded. How happy would it make her to not stand alone for once?

  “I want you to make me show it,” I say. “Why don’t you make me show it? Why do you let me act like a coward?”

  She stands there, her back to me, but after a moment, she turns her head, saying in a low voice, “Because I’ll never do anything to bring you more pain. What we’re doing has a shelf-life anyway. It’s not worth it. It’s just fucking, Clay.”

  I falter, the words cutting deeper than I expect. I don’t want her to look back on us and think that’s all this was.

  But she’s not wrong either. If I can do anything to make her happy for a little while, I know what I’m good at. Digging my phone out of my bag, I text a picture to her. “Good,” I whisper. “Check your message.”

  She lifts up her phone, the cheer team flipping into the air and chanting as I watch her shoulders rise with a sudden intake of breath.

  “Clay,” she almost pants, tucking her phone away quickly before anyone sees the picture of the toy I ordered.

  I lean in, keeping my eyes focused over her head and pretending I’m watching as I whisper, “Can we do that?” I ask her. “I want to ride that in your bed.”

  “Jesus, fuck…” She laughs nervously, and I pull out of her hand and slip it under her skirt.

  She breathes hard, and I hide my smile, thankful I could take her mind off this bullshit for a little.

  “I’ll have it by tomorrow,” I tell her.

  Reaching around her front, I rub her through her panties. Her hand covers mine through her skirt as the scent of her hair makes chills spread up my arms.

  I want her so bad, I can’t breathe.

  I pull away from her, almost in pain, and step quietly through the crowd to the doors. I leave the gym, heading to my locker, because Liv has rehearsal and then work tonight, and I have etiquette class as well as some final prep for the ball.

  The wait to see her will be worth it, though.

  I round the corner, but I spot Callum, and I stop dead. He has a junior girl pressed into the lockers, and he holds her face, his tongue halfway down her throat.

  I tense, my eyes scanning down her knobby-knees and turquoise flats that don’t even match our uniforms.

  But her brow work is nice, I guess.

  They both look over at me, a slow grin curling Callum’s mouth and a startled look in her eyes. He leans into her ear, whispering, and she looks at me again before ducking out and leaving us. She heads down the hall in the opposite direction, but she needn’t have bothered. I don’t need to talk to him.

  I walk, passing him, but he grabs my arm. “You know why you don’t tell me to take a hike?” he asks as I pry myself out of his hold. “Because I’m an investment. You know I need you.”

  I narrow my eyes, and he falls into me, my back hitting the lockers as he plants his hands on both sides of my head.

  “You know that I know that I’m nothing, and you know the life I promise,” he continues.

  I tip up my chin. Is that what he thinks? That I keep him around because I’m just too excited to assume the same role my mother has with my father? A trophy wife to take care of the kids and represent the charities?

  “I’m not like my father, Clay.” He stares down at me, and I can smell the girl’s perfume on him. “A powerful man needs a powerful woman, not a weak one. And you will have power.” He pushes off the locker and stands up straight. “You’ll have your lovers in college, and I’ll have mine, and after it’s all done, we’ll come home and build a fucking city. We’ll be quite a team.”

  I want to laugh. Like I need him to do any of that.

  He takes my face, and I flinch, shoving his hand away. But he comes back in and pulls me into him just as Liv appears around the corner.

  I turn to her, my heart stopping as she halts, and the look in her eyes hits me like a ton of bricks. I go weak in Callum’s arms for only a split second, gazing at her and seeing myself in my head, hurling my body into her arms and assuring her that I’m hers.

  Callum stills, his eyes darting from me to her and back again. “Oh, I see.” He beams. “Well, my perception sucks. Damn.”

  I shove out of his arms, growling. “What are you talking about? Just—”

  “Clay, I’m into it,” he cuts me off. “I’m really into it.” He smiles, coming in again, and I see Liv walk past him, toward the front doors. “You can have as many women as you like as long as I get to watch.”

  My stomach roils. Oh, God…

  “And as long as you’re only mine after the ball,” he says. And then he takes my hand and places a small vial with white tablets inside in my palm. “These will help your legs fall apart.”

  What?

  He leaves, and I look back toward the direction Liv walked, but she’s already gone. Opening my fist, I see the pills, and have to swallow to keep the bile from rising.

  Molly. I feel sick.

  For Christ’s sake. At least he’s not planning to slip this shit into my drink without me knowing, I guess. He wants me comfortable and willing. He wants me to drug myself.

  And I would have to. It would take a lot more than Valium to get me into bed with him.

  To get me to want him.

  To get me to forget about her.

  I dump the pills in the trash can on the way out of school.

  I SLIDE THE scissors up the fabric, cutting in short snips, but the day has taken its toll, and I jerk the tool
, sliding the blade until there’s a huge slice right through the middle.

  “Son of a bitch,” I bite out, rising off the floor and wiping the sweat off my forehead.

  Dammit.

  I grab the bolt of fabric off the table and start unraveling, measuring more.

  Clay’s never going to stand out by choice. She was always going to wind up with Callum or someone of the like, because that’s what perfect looks like.

  I know that. I’ve always known that. But God, it sucked to see her in someone else’s arms. I didn’t expect it to suck that much.

  I’m pretty sure she didn’t invite it, but she will choose him. Ultimately. That soulless, arrogant prick who hires people to do all his thinking for him. He doesn’t know what she likes.

  But then I falter. Does he?

  Clay is really hot in bed, and my ego didn’t even take into account that she would ever be that good with anyone else. I thought it was just us together.

  Not likely. Someone else will be holding her in a few months. She knows what she likes now, and when we’re off to college, she’ll find someone else to pass the time.

  “Miss Jaeger?” Lavinia calls.

  Shit. I dive over to the cabinet and grab the container of pins. “Got it!” I call, jogging out of the workroom and into the dressing room. I hand Lavinia the container I’d forgotten minutes ago. “Here you go.”

  I hand it to her, and she takes a few out, sticking them to the magnet on her wrist. Amy stands on the riser, her debutante dress a strapless A-line with a simple belt around the waist tied with a bow. She pulls on her long white gloves as Lavinia walks over to grab her matching shoes.

  Amy meets my eyes in the mirror, her black eye from the fight the other night just about gone. “You can tell that bitch I always have the last word,” she says.

  I pick up a couple of discarded tiaras and the flowers Amy probably ordered Lavinia to cut off the dress. “Too bad for you Aracely isn’t interested in talk,” I tell her, knowing the only way Amy can win anything is because of her daddy. And I back away. “You should also be wearing champagne. You look like death.”