Page 28 of Darling Venom
He stopped, too.
He turned around, and his face was so pale, I thought he was about to faint. I took a step toward him, but he raised his palm up.
“Don’t fight my wars for me, Venom.”
Again—who is Venom?
I was about to ask him just that, but he stalked off. Right out the double doors and out of school. He was skipping, leaving me here to deal with the consequences of being snubbed by the most unpopular guy at school.
I stood rooted to the ground, staring at the wooden doors.
I fished out my phone and sent him a text message. One of many he hadn’t answered since I’d gotten my hands on his number in not-so-kosher ways.
Who is Venom?
Who is Venom?
Who is Venom?
Answer me, goddammit.
Mark materialized from one of his classes. His minty breath fanned the hair blanketing my ear.
“Why didn’t you say you like your dick the way you like your life, Dicks? Extra trashy.”
I left a four-page letter for Principal Brooks the following week.
I detailed all my reasons to believe Kellan was suicidal and slipped the envelope into the box outside her office.
Two weeks later, I got an answer from Kellan’s number.
Kellan: You breached our contract. Twice. You talked to me. You wrote a letter to the principal. Next Valentine’s is off.
I called him.
He didn’t pick up.
I texted him.
He didn’t reply.
I called again.
He’d blocked my number.
I kicked the wall beside my bed and screamed. “Fuck!”
Even though Leah was there, in the other room, she didn’t ask what happened.
She never did.
Six months after the kiss, I found Kellan’s address.
I showed up at his place on a Saturday morning when his brother would most likely be there. I mustered every bit of my courage to do this, as there was a good chance I’d be airing Kellan’s dirty laundry to anyone willing to hear about it without his permission.
He said he was suicidal, but so did a lot of teenagers who never followed through with their threats.
Hell, I still felt suicidal sometimes.
