Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

“Now, Amy, I realize your sister is a Jesus-freak who mainlines coke to
cope with her minister-husband getting another woman pregnant,” I say
calmly but firmly. “And your father likes to court teenage boys for two weeks
every summer in Thailand, so you’re just projecting your demons onto an
easy target, but if you’re not my friend anymore…” I bite out my words and
dig my fingers in harder, “I just don’t know how I’ll survive.”
She groans.
“Everyone will believe you and not me,” I tell her, both of us knowing
that’s not true at all. “Because your word means so much more than mine,
right?”
Wrong.
I continue, the sudden rush of power emboldening me. “I’ll lose all my
friends,” I say. “The rest of the school year will suck. No parties. No prom.
Can you imagine the TikToks and tweets? In fact, I think I have several gaybashing
tweets for you to find on my feed. I think I also have a picture of
myself in blackface at a Halloween party from a few years ago.”
The threat hangs in the air, her eyes widening as she remembers who’s
really in fucking control here.
“Clay…”
“Those have probably been screenshotted already,” I say, feigning
concern. “Won’t look good when I apply to Omega Chi or go for a fucking
job interview in five years. Hatred for me will go viral.” I gasp. “Oh no,
Amy. You’ve got me.”
“I was Beyoncé…” she whimpers, trying to explain her Halloween
costume, but I push her into the wall again before I let go.
I swipe my bag off the ground and hook it over my shoulder as she stands
frozen against the wall.
If she talks, I will end her.
“And don’t worry,” I say, casting her a glance up and down like I’m
checking her out. Like I ever checked her out when she was sleeping over at
my house or naked in a dressing room with me. “I was never tempted. You
ain’t got what Liv’s got.”
And I stroll out of the classroom—and the school—quickly logging into
Twitter and screenshotting all the shit I just bluffed I had on her before she
deletes it.
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