Page 17 of Toxic Wishes

Oh, c’mon, what if I can make it come true?

My cheeks flushed at the thought of Blake kissing me, my first kiss. That was my wish this year since I still hadn’t kissed a boy, and I’m seventeen now. I didn’t want to graduate high school and be a complete prude, not knowing what it felt like to have a man’s lips on mine, to know what to do with my tongue when another one was massaging my own.

Be careful what you wish for. winky face.

We’re Scorpios. We’re Toxic, venomous. Others need to be saying that to us.

He was right. We both were of the same poison, but that same poison running through our veins made us more harmful to ourselves than anyone else.

What did you wish for?

To give you your birthday wish.

My heart picks up pace. Is it possible he already knew what I wanted?

Oh? How do you know what I wished for?

Let me show you. I’ll pick you up at eleven, and we can blow out our candles together and make a wish. Plus, I have a peanut butter cookie with your name on it.

I couldn’t hold back my smile this time.

Don’t tempt me.

Why not? It’s what a seductress does.

I roll my eyes inwardly.

So you want me to sneak out? You know my mom won’t let me stay out late since our birthdays fall on Sundays. We have school in the morning.

We won’t go anywhere. We can just hang out in my car. Say yes, Abs! We can listen to music, and maybe I can convince you to smoke a blunt with me. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.

Definitely not.

Just kidding. We can just hot-box it.

Should I know what that means?

I have so much to teach you

“Happy birthday, Blake.” Dancing Queen plays in his car speakers as I hand him a piece of cake that I saved from earlier. He eyed it, trying to figure out what made the red swirl design inside.

“My mom makes me vanilla cake, then puts jello in the middle after it’s done baking.”

“You mean the jello packets?” He says with a raised eyebrow.

“Ya, it makes the cake extra moist. Plus, it adds to the inside aesthetics, making it look pretty.” My right leg starts to bounce nervously as he stares at me. His eyes linger on me longer than usual these days, and it is beginning to freak me out. I refuse to appear freaked out by dipping my chin up, claiming defiance. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

I swear, every time I stare into his eyes. It feels like meeting him for the first time. I always found something new in them. Today, I found desire, or maybe it’s a promise I am sensing.

He moves his arm, making me blink. He pulls up his long shirt and flips his wrist to reveal what he wants to show me.

“Happy birthday, Abs.”

I look down at his forearm right next to his wrist and see the number 11:11 tattooed on his skin, with a faint detailed Scorpion in the background. A smile slowly spreads across my face, flushing my cheeks.

“You got a new tattoo?”

“Yeah, it seemed most appropriate, considering we both are full of sweet, toxic wishes. It runs through our blood, right?.”

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