Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

and from everyone except her who tied it there this morning.
I look down, lifting her wrist and turning it over to see the octopus I drew
on the inside, hidden from everyone but me. I drew it there this morning.
We weren’t going to get to talk much at school, but we wanted a constant
reminder of each other.
“I know why you like octopi,” she teases.
“Octopuses,” I correct her, moving in for her mouth again. “And there are
so many reasons to love them.” We nibble and bite. “You know they can
detach limbs at will? Like not rip it off but detach it when they’re in danger?”
I keep kissing her, her warm body making chills spread across my arms.
“They all have venom, even just a little, and they have nine brains, each arm
can act independently from the others. Isn’t that wild?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And they use tools,” I tell her. “They have three hearts. They eat their
arms when they’re bored.”
“They can slap eight people at the same time,” she adds and then cuts off
my laugh with a kiss that grows deeper and deeper until I’m breathless.
And I can’t take it anymore. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face
in her neck, just holding her.
Just hugging her.
She stills, and I know she’s probably wondering what I’m doing, but I
just need to memorize this. I don’t know if I really love her, but it’s going to
hurt to lose her. I know that.
Finally, I pull away and kiss her again, knowing we’re pressing our luck.
“Let’s go,” I tell her.
I pick up my stuff, and we head into the locker room, clearing out our
gear for the day. Only a few people remain, and I’m due at my grandmother’s
in the next fifteen minutes.
I really should put in an appearance at Wind House soon too. I’ve only
been doing what I absolutely have to if it doesn’t involve Olivia. But…I
don’t want to lose Mrs. Gates, either. I know I help her, and it feels good.
“What time are you home tonight?” I ask quietly, keeping my eyes peeled
despite our row being empty.
She passes me, tosses something into the trash can, and then grazes her
hand under my skirt as she comes back.
“I’ll be in the theater until at least seven,” she whispers. “You?”
“I’m free by then,” I tell her. “Can I come over?”