Page 22 of Darling Venom
“Who was it with?”
His lips hovered over mine. His hot breath made my cold face tingle. He smelled of beer and leather and cigarettes and trouble. Like a bad boy.
I wondered what he’d taste like.
I was about to find out.
“Mark MacGowan,” I rasped, leaning the last inch to kiss him.
And just like that, I felt the coldness and terrible emptiness as his body left mine.
I looked up, scrambling to my knees.
Kellan stood, sneering down at me.
I blinked. “K…Kellan?”
“This is not working for me, Dicks.”
“Okay.” Oh my God. What is happening? “That’s fine, I just…”
“Nah. Don’t sweat it. Listen, I have to run, so…”
Never in my life had I been so humiliated. I thought I might puke the minute he got down from this building.
I nodded and mumbled something about wanting to leave, too.
Clearly, Kellan felt some kind of way about Mark. I guess I hadn’t noticed. I’d never seen them talk.
Kellan stalked away, leaving me on the roof without a second glance.
I took the train back to the Bronx, eating the smashed carrot cake without tasting it. The crumbs decorated my thighs like sad snowflakes.
By the time I got home, the clock hit past midnight.
It was no longer my birthday.
Leah snored softly on the couch, a book about self-love propped open, covering her face.
I slammed my bedroom door, not caring if I woke her.
“Happy birthday to me.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Anyone but him.
Anyone.
Even Toby Watts.
But of course, it had to be Mark MacGowan. The dirtbag who’d caught me stealing a glance at Charlotte in French class at the start of the semester and had made it his mission to get into her pants since.
“Hot shit, right?” He’d matched my steps when I walked to the subway. I pretended to flick dirt from under my nails. “Lots of Dicks. Bet you fifty bucks I could get mine in her little mouth before the end of the year.”
I said nothing.
There was nothing to be said.
