Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

away game without speaking to her captain, but I can’t be mad about how
that night turned out. Despite the fact that we still lost.
I reach over the seat, snatching the flask out of Amy’s hand as I take
another drink, finishing off the last of it. Already, the warmth of it starts to
coat my veins like a nice, thick syrup, and I relax a little.
I don’t give a shit that Krisjen went over my head, or that Callum wants
to watch me roll around in the mud like a pig for his entertainment.
I don’t care that I had sex for the first time last week and it was with a
girl, and I don’t care that it keeps hurting every moment I realize that some
part of me isn’t touching some part of her.
I toss the flask back into Amy’s lap as we cruise across the tracks, “Cool
Girl” playing on the stereo and the sky darkening to a steel gray. Clouds
overlap clouds as the sea in the distance fills the air with its scent, nice and
thick so that when you inhale, it’s almost like you’re eating.
I lie my head back, enjoying it while I can. I’ll miss this weather. I hate
the cold, and while North Carolina isn’t the North, it’s north. Florida is south,
but it’s not the South in the same way other states are.
It’s Miami and Cuban sandwiches. Music and history. Explorers and
conquerors. Tacky-ass mailboxes and flip flops all year long.
It’s how we’re vampires who love the night, because the sun’s not beating
down on us. It’s the swamps—the mangroves, the shade and the hidden
spaces underneath the Spanish moss, the tall birds with their long legs quiet
and still in the calm waters…
It’s the summer monsoons and the reptiles that keep you sweating and
your heart jumping out of your chest. It’s laughing at the ‘Florida Man’ jokes
right alongside the Yankees, knowing full well come retirement, they’ll be
jetting down here to play golf, eat the seafood, and stay warm, because
nothing beats the subtropics.
I know college isn’t forever. I can always come home. And until recently,
I wasn’t really dreading leaving.
But now, I’m counting the days like an inmate on death row. Before I
know it, a week has passed. Then a month. Soon, it’ll be summer, and I’ll be
leaving a part of my heart behind. Everything feels wrong.
“Hell yeah!” Callum howls out the window to Milo as he swings into a
spot on the side of the dirt road.
“Yay!” Amy squeals. Everyone in the back seat scrambles to get out, and
I exit the car, pulling my Polo over my head and tossing it into the vehicle.