Page 9 of The Bitterness of Venom

The part that haunts me is how he even knew my scholarship was revoked to begin with…

FIVE

The one thingin my life that has been constant is disappointment.

My parents? Disappointments.

Love? Disappointment.

My first sexual experience? Dis-ap-fucking-pointment.

Life in general is just one big disappointment.

So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when I didn’t get the job at the roller rink. It’s just… disappointing. I really love the vibe of that place, but, oh well. A popular campus bar, however, wanted yours truly. Something about all the big sports crowds go there and blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t care less. I just want the tips and paychecks. I can’t live off my small savings for the rest of the year.

I purse my lips at my refection in my mirror. The black button-up that exposes my midriff paired with my boyfriend jeans and a flannel around my waist. White Air Forces looking sleek. And yet, something is still missing. Spying my velvet choker, I slip it around my neck.

Perfect.

I put my debit card in the back of my phone case, before pushing it into my back pocket. Thankfully, these particular jeans don’t have holes in the pockets. Not sure why that’s a thing anyway.

Jasper waits for me at the front door, swinging his keys around his ring finger as his eyes drink me in. I could have fun with Jasper. But if he catches feelings, that would make the rest of the college year awkward. I don’t do awkward, and I don’t gosteadywith anyone. Love is three basic chemicals in our brain. And those feelings last a maximum of three years, according to science. Three isn’t a great number, so I’ll take my chances elsewhere.

And back to Jasper. My bad girl vibe lures him in, but I’ll leave him broken and bloody in the end. I can tell he’s looking for true love, while I’m only looking for the high.

Jasper holds the door open for me like the perfect gentleman. “You look nice.” He smiles, leading me to his rich boy Jeep. All custom seats and limited edition colors. I guess I would be nice, too, if I had all the luxuries in life, the ignorance of not knowing what happens out there. I promise, I’m not envious. I have the self-love that Kayne West—or Ye, as he likes to call himself these days—is made of. But sometimes I do wonder how I could have turned out in life if my situation was perfect. But I quickly wipe that thought away because I know that’s not my reality. And who wants to live in a constant state of delusions and what-ifs?

Jasper pulls out of the parking lot, some song blaring about putting a mask on and then taking it off. I pegged him for new age music. I, however, am a big fan of alt, rock, and screamo. But I get the hype of new age music, I even like some of it.

I watch in amusement as he raps the words at the top of his lungs, bobbing his head. I twist my lips. Jasper is hot, beautiful even. I bet he lets the girl come first. But I know it would be a huge mistake to indulge in him. He seems to be the only friend I have here.

But still…

“You don’t like Future?” he yells over the music.

“Who?”

“Lamb chops, don’t say things like that to me.” He basically pouts as my face twists in disgust atlamb chops.That isn’t going to be a thing. Surely, he knows that?

“I’m truly wounded and can’t even look at you right now.” I roll my eyes at his antics. “Good thing we’re here.”

I look out the window, blue and pink flashing lights illuminate a large, white colonial-style house. Kind of reminds me of the White House when they do something special. The grass is so green and manicured, I wonder if that’s why my tuition is so expensive. I watch as two guys fall over on the sidewalk. A girl pukes in the bushes. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure there is a bra hanging from a tree. “This looks unsanitary,” I comment.

“Lighten up, Wednesday Addams. It’ll be fun.” He hops out and I glare after him.

The outside ischild’s play compared to the rager inside. The windows rattle with the beat of “Cry Baby” by Megan Thee Stallion.

Honestly, I fuck with Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. They just awaken my hard bitch power, gives me self-love in abundance, and prove that men are not shit.

Now, back to this cesspool we’re calling a party. I see four people running around naked. A group sharing a beer funnel. Oh, and a redhead just spilled beer all over some douche’s pants, making it look like he pissed himself. And sweet Jasper is riding down the stairs on a blow-up mattress as two—yes, two—girls make out on his lap. And now they’re falling over because, obviously, that wasn’t going to work out.

But the most unsettling thing about this entire situation is Desmond.

It looks like he’s holding court with his royal subjects in the middle of the chaos. And yet, I haven’t seen anyone get within three feet of the muscled group of delusional guys he’s part of. There is only one girl among them on the couch. A beautiful, ebony-skinned chick. Her nose is curved slightly to the tip. Hair black with copper strands through the thick curls. She looks as annoyed as I am. I already like her.

She leans her head on a tall man, the muscles on his arms bigger than my thighs. And that’s saying something. His skin is tan, hair a deep, chocolate brown. And he looks to not be listening to a single thing, all his attention solely on her.

Too bad they have three years max, huh? Though they look happy together.

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