Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

She hasn’t called. She didn’t approach me the rest of the day.
She’s going to fuck him this weekend, and there’s nothing I can do about
it.
I don’t know when it starts to rain, but in the half hour it takes me to
leave St. Carmen, cross the tracks, and walk home, I’m drenched. My hair
sticks to my face, and I trudge through puddles without the energy to avoid
them. I step into my house, hearing the TV going and a radio blasting
upstairs.
“Liv?” Iron hops off the barstool. “Jesus, why didn’t you call for a ride?”
Water spills down my legs and drips from my clothes. I walk for the
stairs.
“Hey.” He hurries over and grabs my arm. “Christ, what happened?”
He looks down at me, but I can’t look up. “I’m fine.”
I can’t stop the tears welling, I only hope he can’t tell the difference with
the rain on my face.
“That fucking bitch,” Dallas says, strolling over. “She break it off with
you or you with her?”
I shake my head and climb up the stairs.
“Liv?” Iron calls.
But I keep walking.
“It’s dinnertime,” he says behind me. “Come and sit down. Please.”
I hear the worry in his voice, and it reminds me of Mom. How we would
watch her avoid us and disappear into her room.
But I just want to be alone.
“Liv!” Iron shouts as I reach the top of the stairs.
“That’s what they do,” Dallas bites out. “Use and abuse until they’ve had
their fill. I told you! We all told you!”
I push open my door and slam it shut, dropping my bag to the floor.
“Macon!” I hear Iron shout downstairs.
I slide down the wall, sitting on the floor of my dark room and lean back,
my arm hanging over my bent knee.
I’m here. She’s somewhere on the other side of the tracks—shopping or
doing homework with her friends or meeting him or…
If she wanted to be here, she’d be here. She doesn’t want to be here.
She doesn’t want me. She’s not thinking about me right now. She wants
to be free of me.
Silent tears spill down my face, and I lean my head back, squeezing my