Page 15 of Darling Venom
Sometimes, I lay in bed, listening to my own heartbeats thudding against the mattress and willing my heart to stop.
It seemed so easy. I could instruct my limbs to move, my eyes to blink. I could even hold my breath.
Still, my heart was steadfast.
The defiant little creature.
It was a lesson I’d started to get used to: I had no control over my heart. It would do what it would do with no regard to the rest of my body.
I guess that was the whole fascination with this organ. It could be your ruin, your salvation, your friend, and your enemy.
At night, I stared at the wall and thought about Mom and Dad and what they’d do or say to make it better.
I thought about Leah and her pennies. About sticky summer days, splashing each other in fountains. Cartwheeling in our backyard and eating ice cream together.
A part of me was glad I’d stuck around to hate myself every day for what happened to my parents. To Leah.
It was ten past now.
Kellan wasn’t here yet.
I sat down, rocking my right leg back and forth. I was so hungry I was lightheaded.
The only signs I’d gotten throughout the year to indicate that night on the roof wasn’t a hallucination were our secret exchanges.
Three weeks after Valentine’s Day, I’d found On the Road on my desk. I’d opened it and discovered a note inside, a few bucks to cover the library fine, along with a USB.
I feel like your soul and mine are made of the same stuff. The black slug.
You make me hopeful, but that’s the last thing I should be.
Let me know what you think.
When I got home, I plugged the USB into my dying laptop. He’d left me a Word document. Ten pages long. A short story about a boy who falls in love with his pet spider.
I cried when the boy’s mom killed the spider.
I wondered what it meant.
A few days later, I left another book on Kellan’s desk.
Don Quixote.
Tucked inside the first page were his USB and a note.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t want to die before I fall in love.
Before I lose my virginity.
Before I make up with Leah.
By the way, I cried when the spider died. More, please.
C
We ping-ponged through small notes, and books, and short stories. Kellan said he’d already had sex, already fallen in love, already made peace with the fact that he wouldn’t make up with his brother.
So, for him, he had nothing left to scratch off the bucket list.
