Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

eyes on me ready and waiting to report to Father McNealty if I ogle their
bodies like some hypersexual pervert.
I slip off my jacket and slide my phone into the leggings pocket on the
side of my thigh before closing my locker.
“Tu pasa…” I enunciate my vowels to myself and make my way to the
weight room.
School starts in an hour, but lacrosse has workouts on Mondays and
Wednesdays. The football team is done for the year, the basketball team and
baseball teams have the room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the swim
team does most of their workouts in the pool.
Someone pops up to my side as I move past the showers. “Thin Mint?”
she asks and shoves a silver roll of cookies into my face.
I scowl, barely looking up to see Becks next to me. “That’s not
breakfast.”
Of course, I hadn’t had any yet, but I was pretty sure eating nothing was
better than eating shit when I was about to work out.
“Come on. It can’t be any worse than donuts. I mean, who decided what
breakfast food should be breakfast food anyway?” Becks grabs two towels
from the stand and tosses me one. “I mean, maybe ham doesn’t go with eggs.
Maybe eight Thin Mints is the same amount of carbs you’d find in a glass of
orange juice. Maybe cereal was invented as a nighttime treat, but they
cleverly decided, ‘hey, this is perfect for breakfast when people are in a
hurry.’”
I cock an eyebrow. “Cereal was invented because John Harvey Kellogg
believed Corn Flakes would stop Americans from sinning and masturbating.”
Her laugh quickly turns to choking as she swallows down the wrong hole
and coughs to clear her throat.
“H…how do you know that?” she asks, still laughing.
I shrug. “This is a really good school.”
Her chest shakes as she laughs harder, and I slam my hand through the
locker room door. “Come on,” I tell her. “We’re already late.”
And the coach isn’t the one keeping time, either. The last thing I need this
morning is a super-sized cunt convo with our team captain. I had my dose last
night.
Heading into the weight room, the sounds of barbells clanging and
weights dropping fill the air, and I snatch one of Becks’s Thin Mints and stuff
it into my mouth. She smiles and veers left, tossing the still half-full package