Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

rear window.
They stop, and I hear the door unlock.
I swing open the back door and climb in.
“I’ve got a spare toothbrush,” Krisjen says from the driver’s seat as she
looks at me in her rearview mirror, smiling.
I sit down next to Ruby, Amy in the front passenger seat, and slam the
door. “I’m not staying the night.”
Just for the game.
• • •
The stadium in Gibbon’s Cross is like walking into a lobster tank surrounded
by butchers looking for the perfect specimen for tonight’s special. It’s small
—smaller than ours—so no matter if it’s a football game or peewee soccer,
the stands always seem filled with homefield advantage. Not a single empty
spot on the bleachers remains, the benches overflowing with cheering parents
and students, not because anyone here particularly gives a shit about girls’
lacrosse, but they do like to win against St. Carmen. Private schools brim
with people used to getting what they want for a certain price, so when
anything is left to chance, it’s stressful. And exciting. They show up for it.
We jog to the sidelines, everyone on the field stretching and warming up.
“You’re late!” Coach yells at Krisjen, panicked. “I’d bench you right now
if I didn’t need you.”
We stop in front of Coomer, and I see Clay, in uniform, on the bench off
to the left as Coomer’s eyes flash to me.
“She’s still a student,” Krisjen tells her. “I can’t keep up with this team.
Please.”
Coach studies me, probably wondering about the change in heart after I’d
stalked into her office Monday morning, told her I was out, and promptly left
without a conversation. I hop on the balls of my feet, stretching my arms over
my head, because we have no time for warm-ups before play starts.
“I’m not going to force you, Jaeger,” Coach tells me. “Do you want to be
here?”
“No.”
Krisjen levels a glare at me.
“I want you to pay for victory pizza,” I say instead.
Coach smiles despite herself and turns back to the field. “Get your gear