Page 108 of Scrimmage

I hear the front door shut quietly and the roar of his Jeep starting. There should be some sort of relief washing over me now that he’s gone, but it doesn’t come.

It’s just sexual frustration, I reason.

Even I don’t believe that lie. Penny might be right. There is a very tiny pinprick of a possibility that I might like Koda. I try to find something, anything, to give me the ick, and it isn’t working. It will come in time. That’s all I need to do. Give it time. It will inevitably show itself, and I’ll be over the whole thing.

Cuntsgiving looms over me like a dark storm cloud. It’s been four years since I got away from Damien. Four years of friendship with Penny. The anniversary symbolizes so much for us. It’s happy and sad. Scary and reassuring. It’s a promise for the future and a fuck you to the past. With Damien making his way into my intrusive thoughts recently, I try to look toward the positives the way Penny does. I know it isn’t easy for her either.

I collapse into my bed, discarding the laundry onto the floor the way Koda said I would. It won’t stay there. I’ll put it away because I promised Penny I would, but I need a moment to collect my thoughts. My body is exhausted. I close my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep.

Penny. Adventures. Calm. The scent of the breezy sea. Clear skies.

Stars.

Chains. Hands. Hot Metal. Knives. Amber Eyes. Evil grins. Blood.

Fuck.

I get up. Guess the laundry won’t wait.

Chapter Fourteen

Koda

She almost figured it out. Ashland isn’t an idiot. It’s why I was trying to leave the gift in the middle of the night. I almost didn’t give it to her since the last time she saw her sketchbook I was right there.

When I spotted her on the front porch from down the street, I should have turned around, but I couldn’t help myself. She looked upset, which is weird for someone who just won a huge award. I just wanted to do something nice for once. That’s the lie I told myself anyway.

She had her guard down. I immediately took the opportunity to explore her tattoos up close. I feel like a fucking crazy person. She’s turning me into a deluded psycho just because we have good sex. Not just good but great. The best sex I’ve ever had. The kind that makes you sell your soul to demons so you can have it again.

She was so melancholy. I’ve seen Ashland get drunk at parties or social gatherings, but drinking alone doesn’t signify someone is happy. I so badly wanted to see what she was looking at on her phone. She didn’t even see me walk up. Then she drew me, and holy shit it was impressive. There was no way in hell I was giving it back. For Ashland, that’s probably the most vulnerable thing she could have done, and she did it for me. I should feel bad that I’m taking advantage of her, but it’s only made me crave her company more. I want to get under her skin the way she’s under mine.

Seeing her interact with Penny was a different side of Ashland. I already know she loves Penny. She risked her life for her. I’ve seen them together in public, but when they were sitting on my couch that same giddiness was magnified. They are an atmosphere, a universe of their own creation. The Cunts of the Century, they call themselves. Fucking accurate.

I heard her when she told Penny not to get into the food because I have a specific way. Then when she asked me to teach her the right way to fold, it made me so fucking hard. She’s made comments about my obsessive tendencies, but they were never judgmental. She has never stopped me. Not even once.

I’ve managed to keep myself from looking at the stolen sketches, so I had to settle for her tattoos. That must be why people appreciate art so much. Whatever Prince did on her hand pales in comparison to all of the tattoos she has done on herself. I can tell the difference in them. There was no way she was going to let me look at her long enough to decipher them, but I fucking tried.

I don’t know what the fuck Cuntsgiving is, but the second she invited me I wanted to say yes. I knew I had already crossed so many lines, though, so I told her maybe. If Ashland is throwing some kind of party I’m going to fucking be there with or without Alexi. I’m definitely not letting Cole have one moment to draw her attention.

Saturday is dark and stormy. Alexi is determined to get to their house around six. Even though no one parties that early, I figured a good pre-game would be worth it. I drive Alexi and I across campus to their little tan house that looks like it has seen better days. There are flowers planted out front that will probably die from frost soon. That has to be Penny’s doing. A stray cat is curled up, sleeping on a chair on the front porch. As soon as we walk up the steps I hear the two of them inside. It sounds like they’re in an all out brawl. Alexi knocks, completely unphased.

“Come in!” they shout in tandem.

He turns the door handle and barges in as if he’s been here thousands of times. We take off our boots and jackets as their argument continues.

“Take itback!” Penny screams.

“Never! I will never take it back. I'll be buried with a fucking VHS of Nutcracker Barbie, and you can live knowing, justknowing,that it’s there,” Ashland yells.

Penny screeches as we come around the corner, launching herself over the couch at Ashland who runs around and hides behind us.

Alexi holds up his hands. “Woah, do not put me in the middle of this.”

“What the fuck is Nutcracker Barbie?” I ask. All three of them look at me like I’m from a different universe. “What?”

Ashland steps in front of me, going toe to toe. She looks like a pink haired Tinkerbell who is about to fight me. “It’s the best Barbie movie ever made. Hands down.”

“She’s fucking delusional. It’s Swan Lake. Everyone knows that. Right, Alexi?” Penny looks to him for support.

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