by L. J. Woods
Throwing the cloth in the sink I move into the room. “Didn’t you hear her?” I ask, taking the plate of fried dough from Grandma. “Delilah’s mom has a job.”
Delilah’s head whips my way as I set the food on the table. Tilting my chin towards the kitchen, I signal for Delilah to go. Meanwhile, I’ll handle my parents’ incompetence to be decent guests.
My mom sits up in her chair before I turn towards the kitchen, Delilah already by the sink. “So that’s what she calls what she does? Working?”
Something clatters in the sink and the way Delilah’s shoulders reach her ears tells me she’s heard it. Tempering the storm, I move behind her just as she takes a step back, her ass pressing against my crotch and fuck. That combined with her scent is gonna do me in.
“I got this,” I say, my voice landing by her ear. Turning around I lean against the entry to the dining room. “Sex work is having a job. What? You jealous her mom’s tits will pay more than a sermon from you ever will?”
“Hammer!” Dad slams his phone on the table.
That gets a snort from Delilah and it’s hard not to hide my smirk.
“Ready to eat?” Grandma Daniels chimes in before Delilah turns around. Her eyes land on mine and it feels like that pill is in full effect the way the room blurs and shifts.
“Thanks,” she says. But that’s all I get before she shoves by me and into the dining room.
Dinner is intense. I don’t know whose idea it was to have Delilah sit next to me but it makes the entire thing tortuous. Every time she grazes my hand, every time I get a whiff of her it makes something twist in my stomach. Something hardens in my pants. Delilah’s quieter than usual the entire time, her face in her palm as she pokes at her plate. She’s not eating and it’s likely to do with what happened in the forest. Can’t get it out of my head, my own plate untouched. Either that or she’s super pissed about me being here.
The minute dinner’s over and my parents leave, I head to the bathroom, avoiding everyone. Especially her. The pink tub and shower combo can hardly hold me like it used to. The water pressure sucks but the cool water on my body helps soothe my muscles. Soothe my mind.
It doesn’t last for long before I’m faced with Elijah’s bedroom door, the yellow “Keep Out” sign still stickered on the cheap wood. My hand on the knob, I take a breath, my heartbeat quickening.
Is this why my parents wanted me here? So they could torment me some more with memories of him?
“Gabe?”
I jump and I hope she didn’t catch it.
She snorts, telling me she did. “Didn’t think gods got scared.”
Turning around, I let my back hit the door. “I’m not, but you should be.” Finally. A fucking distraction. A push.
Her eyes drop to my chest, water still rolling down my body. She nibbles the bottom of her lip when her eyes settle on where my towel meets the spot just above my groin. When she looks back up, I smirk.
Her brows knit. “Gonna kill me in my own house?”
“By the looks of it.”
Her hands come to her arms. “What did you do with her body?”
I cross my arms. “Stay out of it.”
“Why?”
“God, you’re fucking annoying.” What’s annoying is how badly I want to push her against this door and pretend today didn’t happen.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Gabe. We found … y’know. Isn’t that fucked up?” It is, but I shrug. She glances down the stairs. “You know, I can still call the cops.”
“I dare you.”
Her eyes narrow and fuck, she looks good when she’s mad. “The fuck are you even here if you’re just gonna be a dick?” Her cheeks redden and I want to take a bite. “If you’re not gonna talk to me about anything then go to Milo’s or Adam’s. You’re not in fucking middle school. You don’t need my grandma to babysit you anymore. Wait, you are a fucking child because—”
“Shut up and listen.” Pulling on her arm sends a shockwave through me before I press her against the door across from Elijah’s room. Her door. I keep my voice low but it’s hard not to press into her, the feeling of her warmth sending a burn to my abs. “This isn’t ideal for either of us but just because I’m in your house doesn’t mean you’re not playing by my rules.” My hand under chin, I stare into her eyes but I almost regret it. It only makes me harder. “You understand that, Dee? Rule number one, don’t mention the forest. Don’t even think about the forest. Rule number two—”
“Eat my dick, Godfrey,” she spits. Her hand comes to my chest before it falls to my abs and I can’t tell if she’s pushing me away or feeling me up. “There’s no way you’re staying here after today. After the shit you’ve been pulling.” She pulls her hands away. “For all I know, you’re a killer!”
“Is that it?” Pulling a finger up her smooth, soft arm, I bring my face closer to hers. My face in the crook of her neck, I inhale a whiff of her and I’m no longer in control. My knee pushes between her legs, her bottoms short enough that I can feel her warmth on my thigh. “I scare you, Delilah?”
She sucks in a breath before she pushes her hair out of her face. Long, wavy, and a mess. Just like her.
“If you’re here then we’re talking.” Her voice shakes but she’s still trying to stay in charge. “We’re talking about Sammy. We’re talking about Elijah.”
No fucking way. “I’m not a fan of conversation.” She knows better than to demand anything from me and when I push my thigh harder against her warmth, she sighs. It’s fucking addicting and I want to hear it again.
“And I’m not a fan of you right now.” She pushes hard on my chest, my knee falling and I swear I felt her get wet, but I lay off.
The fuck am I even doing?
“Too bad.” Moving to the door behind me, I finally push it open. Darkness hides the memories on the wall and I’ll keep it that way. Pulling the towel from my waist, I give her a good view of my ass before I bid her adieu. “Night, Delilah.”
Eleven
Gabriel
Sleep?
Yeah, right.
I couldn’t last an hour in Elijah’s room on my own. Especially not after putting my hands on his sister.
After twenty minutes of sitting in the dark surrounded by painful memories, I went downstairs and laid on the old dusty sofa instead. The entire time, Sammy’s body was on my mind. Then Elijah’s. It switched back and forth like a horror movie on repeat. Thinking of Delilah’s body was the only way out of that hellish loop.
The light from her room stayed on until the wee hours. It tempted me to check in on her but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Like I can’t bring myself to sleep in his room. Like I can’t bring myself to have that conversation.
I’m not sure who Delilah was talking to but I heard some laughs and snickers coming from her room. She sounded comfortable. Too comfortable and it makes me wonder. Does Delilah have a boyfriend? For her sake, she better hope not. I can’t let anyone get near Elijah’s sister. Not even me. Putting on some music helped to get me through the night, but now, with the sun beaming on my face, it’s best I get a shower before I inconvenience anyone else. Adam’s text confirms it. Says he’ll swing by to pick me up since he still has my ride. Practice starts early and the quicker I’m showered and ready, the sooner I can get out of here.
Delilah’s room door is already open when I get up to the second floor, and when I peek in, a smile pulls at my lips. Some memories of her childhood remain on the wall. A Warped Tour poster, Transformers action figures still on her shelf above her bed. That’s when I hear a laugh from the bathroom. Her laugh.
With an ear towards the door, a deep rumble follows. A dude’s voice. Delilah was never one to lock the door for some reason that I still can’t figure out. So, I invite myself in.
The shape of her body through the blurry plastic curtain stops me before my eyes land on her phone. “Nix” with a purple heart emoji lights up the screen and I tap that red button faster than I snort a line.
/> Fuck that guy.
“Nani?!” Delilah’s eyes widen as she pulls the plastic curtain against her wet body.
Shiiiit.
Her hair hangs in ripples over her shoulder, water dripping off her skin. Part of me wants to jump inside with her. The part growing hard in my boxers.
Play. It. Cool.
Kinda hard to do when my morning wood is making a comeback.
I’m quick moving the counter, pulling my toothbrush from the black toiletry bag in my hand.
“Gabe! This isn’t a peep show!” Delilah keeps her voice hushed and I’m happy. I don’t want Grandma Daniels finding us both in her small bathroom. “That what you want, Godfrey? Fine.” As I kick the door closed, she drops the curtain. My eyes fall right to her tits, and this isn’t helping my boner. “Happy? Now, get the fuck out!”
Pushing the brush against my teeth I keep my eyes on my white smile so I avoid looking at her. Too late, my eyes are already drifting back. “You’re the one flashing your tits at me while I’m trying to brush my teeth.” Passing the blame helps, right? “I gotta get to practice.”
“So?!” She brings her hands to her waists, the curtain completely away from her body. Damn. Elijah’s request is getting harder by the day. So is my cock. “Wait like a normal person. Not like an entitled—”
“God?” My mouth full of toothpaste makes my words come out muffled but she hears it, rolling her eyes.
“Fine!” She continues her shower while I try my damndest to brush my teeth but she’s putting on a show. Delilah rubs her yellow loofah down her chest, over each of her wet breasts and down her legs. It’s hard not to wish they were my hands, my brush pushing hard against my gums. “You sure you’re the one in charge, Godfrey?” She brings her head back, the water streaming down to her ass. She knows the answer. Of course, I am. “Cause your cock looks like he’s the one in charge.”
“What’s that?” I up the ante on her little game, turning around so she can see my staff in all his shining glory pushing through my boxers. “Wanna say good morning to my wood?”
“Ew.” She says it but her eyes drop to my crotch.
Now it’s time for my show.
Moving closer to the toilet, I push my boxers down and she’s not shy about taking a look when my rod pops out. Her nipples perk up like the water’s cold and it seems we have the same effect on each other. I’m not surprised when every single kiss is explosive. Every single touch. But if I keep entertaining this, I’m setting myself up for failure. So I position myself in front of the toilet, toothbrush hanging out my mouth like I’m about to take a leak.
“Ew!” She pulls the curtain closed, the plastic rings scraping the rod. “Get out, Godfrey!”
I chuckle. I win again but she’s right. I should go before I do something stupid.
God, I need some meds.
On the back of the door, those same beige pants she insists on wearing instead of her uniform hangs. Shaking my head, I pull it down. She’s gonna get herself expelled if she keeps wearing this. I get her little protest but if I don’t want to draw attention to us, or her, she has to play by my rules. And right now, that just happens to be the school’s rules.
“Have a good day, Dee,” I say, leaving the bathroom with her pants in my hand.
“Go fuck yourself,” she spits back.
And after that sight, I definitely will.
I don’t need a shower to be wide awake by the time Adam pulls up in the driveway. And for me, that’s not a good thing.
“You and Delilah as roommates?” He watches me climb in with a cheesy ass grin, waggling his brows before his accent goes back to normal. “How’s all that heat under one roof?”
“Nope.” We’re not talking about it. Holding out a hand I’m waiting for him to slam my breakfast in my palm. He doesn’t. When I look over, he has that cringe-y look on his face.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry, G,” he apologizes. “I’m all out and I don’t get to my doc until later. But I can get that stronger stuff we like.”
“Fuck!” My fist slams into my dash before my foot hits it.
He glances at me as he pulls out the driveway, his hand sliding through his hair. “Is that sexual frustration or something else?”
“I really needed that today.” My foot taps against the floor, ignoring his comments. They only make my chest heavier. “You don’t have anything? Nothing at all?”
“Don’t you?”
“Not when my parents treat the house like the Pen.”
A joint split between us takes the edge off until we get to campus. By the time we walk into the main building, there’s a huge crowd heading into the main auditorium.
“The fuck is all this?” I mutter.
Mariam approaches us in a wrinkled sweater, her eyes red and glossy.
Something’s off. Mariam McQueen’s clothes are never wrinkled. She brings a handkerchief to her nose and while I give zero fucks about her, this worries me.
“It’s for Sammy. T-they—” She sniffles, my body stiffening while I wait for her to finish. “They found her body.”
“Fuck.” That slips out as I glance around the hall.
She nods, cheeks red. “They found Sa-Sammy in the ra-ravine. There’s an ass-assembly.” Shaking her head she pulls the handkerchief back to her mouth before moving inside.
“No fucking way,” Adam strokes his chin, his face going pale. “Sammy? Do you think—?”
“Come on.” Making our way towards the auditorium doors, I’m eager to find out if any signs point to me. If any signs point to Delilah. My chest tightens so much it tingles and now’s not the time for a fucking heart attack,
“Did you guys hear?” Milo joins us as we head into the massive space, all outfitted in shiny marble and white oak. A rib-like wooden structure hangs from the ceiling, said to be for acoustics but it’s all for fucking show. Like the rest of this place. “Got the email this morning.” I clearly missed it because it feels like I’m walking into yet another fucking surprise.
Looking around the room for Delilah, I don’t see her as I flip down a black velvet seat near the back. The place is a buzz, sniffles and crying blending with chatter. My body is stiff sitting in my seat while Adam and Milo speculate what could have happened.
“I heard they found pills in her system,” Milo comments, way too relaxed for this type of assembly. He’s slouched in his seat, black polish on his nails. “Killed herself. Went out Cobain style.”
“That was a gun to the skull, dickhead. Oh, wait.” Adam sits up. “Fuck, mate. I’m the one who gave her the news that she was cast out.”
Dean McQueen takes the stage, feedback coming from the mic before he speaks. Taking a breath, my nose fills with the smell of wood and fresh paint before I exhale, but that still doesn’t calm me down.
“Thank you for joining me, everyone.” McQueen slackens his tie, plaid blazer to match. He takes a breath before he drops it on us. “I have the unfortunate job of telling you all that Sammy Sanders’ body was found by a jogger along the ravine.”
The auditorium erupts in chatter but I’m hanging on to every word.
“We’ve been informed by her family that the cause of death was self-inflicted,” he says. “While we Pentacatholics don’t condone it, this is a hard time for all of us. If anyone needs to talk, the office, student union, or a counsellor is a great place to start. Now, let us bow our heads.”
While the auditorium joins McQueen in prayer, Adam leans forward, Milo leaning in. “You don’t think she killed herself because of us, do you?” Adam asks, looking like he might blow chunks any minute. Before either of us can answer, my phone vibrates in my pocket. A ding comes from Milo. Another ringtone comes from Adam before chirps and chimes sound around the room. So many phones go off that it stops McQueen’s prayer.
Looking at the screen, it’s an email from the school.
“This the same email from Sammy’s video?” Adam asks. He reaches over me, slapping Milo on his leg. “Ay,
didn’t you fuck Sammy last summer?”
“Oh, my word!” Someone yells from the other side of the auditorium. Then a scream.
Dean McQueen tries to silence the room, some other professors joining to help settle the crowd. Looking down at my phone, another video plays. It looks just like Sammy’s video. A POV of some raunchy action but this time, Sammy’s not in it.
“Damn …” Milo sounds in awe when the camera pans up to the video’s star. She’s curvy and loud, telling the cameraman just what to do but that blue hair doesn’t hide who it is at all. Even with my video stopped, I can hear her voice around the room.
“Fuck me, Daddy!”
“Harder! Like you mean it!”
A head of blue hair rises from the middle of the auditorium, heading for the door with her head held high.
“Gemma fucking Garcia,” Milo mutters before he sighs. “Seems I have a thing for school sluts.”
This morning is the hardest yet. By the end of afternoon practice, I’ve thought of a dozen ways to get what I want.
Everyone’s talking about Sammy and the video and that only makes me crave it more. I’m like a criminal out of jail as I make my way through the school, looking over my shoulders for any sign of cops or detectives.
I should’ve weighed her down with something more when I pushed her body off that bridge. This isn’t the first time girls have disappeared in this town and like all the other times before, I’m hoping it blows over.
Fuck, I sound like a psychopath.
It looks like they’re sticking to the suicide story and for my sake, that’s good. While something tells me there’s more to it, my mind is on one thing and one thing only.
Hazel’s leaving the student clinic, her face wet with tears when we get back to the main building. The halls are still abuzz from today’s news and I haven’t been able to sit still. Adam taps my arm, his eyes on Hazel, my eyes on the nurse. I’m sick to my stomach but right now, this is the only way I see myself getting through this day without jumping off that same bridge.
“I’m gonna call in that connection,” I say, the nurse catching my eye as she gives me a small smile. She’s another person I should stay away from but with the week I’ve been having that’s not an option. “I’ll catch up with you.”