Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

hunting this summer, than sweating my ass off on this field one more
second.”
“Why were you ever on the team?” she fires back, because she knows this
is the last thing I want to be doing with my time.
But we both know exactly why I put up with this shit for so long, and it
wasn’t because athletics looked good on my college applications.
I cock an amused eyebrow, smirking a little.
She smiles like she didn’t already know I was always here for her.
“And gator hunting doesn’t start until August,” she says.
“And he’s not hunting. Is that what he tells you?” Krisjen pants next to
us. “He just feeds them marshmallows and then we sneak onto Mark
Chamberlain’s house boat, drink his beer, and have sex.”
I groan, rolling off Clay. “Too much information, Krisjen.”
I rise, pulling Clay up after me, and notice blood on her knee. She’s
wearing pants to prom, otherwise she’d be pissed about a scraped knee. I’m
wearing a dress again, but this time it’s thin silk, tight, and there won’t be a
stitch of underwear underneath. I enjoy making her sweat in public.
Squatting down, I take her leg and use my shirt to pat away the blood.
Coos go off to my left, and I turn my head at the girls on the bench looking at
me like puppy dogs as I take care of her.
I shake my head. Some people, as expected, were pricks about it all when
Clay came out, but the advocates are louder, stronger, and much more vicious
when they witness an injustice. Anyone who had shit to say soon found it was
better to keep their stupid comments to themselves, unless they wanted to be
immortalized on the internet forever.
If anyone wasn’t a friend, they were at least quiet.
Callum has never made eye contact again. It’s almost as if we don’t exist
at school. He never appears without a girl wrapped around him, and I’m not
sure who he’s trying to convince that he’s living his best life—us or himself
—but the bruises Dallas gave him that night have healed, and Callum
behaves like nothing ever happened.
We stay out of his way. He stays out of ours. For now.
Milo mysteriously left school following Fox Hill. We’d see him around
town here and there, but no matter how many times I ask Clay about it, she
denies playing any role in having him finish the school year from home
instead of anywhere near me.
Not that I don’t appreciate her throwing her weight around to protect me.