Page 22 of Craving Venom

Xaden smirks. “What, not scared?”

“Please. This movie’s about as scary as a toddler with a butter knife.”

Tria shushes us, tossing a piece of popcorn at my head. I roll my eyes but shut up.

As the movie drags on, I find myself zoning out completely. The plot is a mess, the scares are cheap, and I’m more invested in the pattern on the rug than whatever’s happening on-screen. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I sneak a glance at the screen. Another text from Zane.

I don’t open it, but my curiosity is already getting the better of me. His messages, for all their frustrating vagueness, are more compelling than this shitty excuse for a horror flick. I blame the movie for being so goddamn boring.

By the time the credits roll, I’ve completely checked out. Tria stretches with a satisfied yawn, clearly unbothered by how dull the whole thing was.

“Well, that was fun,” she says, turning to me. “What’d you think?”

“Riveting,” I deadpan, standing up and brushing popcorn crumbs off my lap.

Xaden smirks again. “Maybe next time, I should pick the movie.”

“Maybe,” I say, already halfway out the door.

“Whoa, whoa, hold it!” Tria says, and I turn to see her practically diving over the back of the couch. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, my room?” I say, frowning. “You know, to recover from the cinematic masterpiece you just put me through?”

She grabs my wrist and yanks me back toward the couch, and before I can protest, I’m sitting down again.

“Jesus, Tria, what now?”

Xaden’s leaning back in his seat with his arms stretched casually along the top of the couch, watching us with mild amusement. Tria grins like she’s about to drop the world’s biggest bombshell.

“I wasn’t going to tell you this yet,” she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “but since you’re being such a fucking buzzkill, I guess I’ll spill.”

I blink at her, unimpressed. “Oh, great. Another surprise. Can’t wait.”

“Shut up. You’re going to love this.” She turns to Xaden and gestures dramatically. “Tell her.”

Xaden raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself, and looks at me. “Okay, so… I managed to score tickets to that art gallery you’re obsessed with. You know, the one with the exhibit on surrealist crime scenes or whatever.”

I freeze, my brain short-circuiting for a second. “Wait. What?”

“You heard him,” Tria says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “We’re going tomorrow. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“You’re fucking with me,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Nope,” Xaden says, shrugging. “Got the tickets right here.” He pulls them out of his pocket and waves them in the air.

I snatch one out of his hand, scanning it as if it might burst into flames if I look too hard. But it’s real.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, clutching the ticket. “How did you even—these sold out months ago!”

Xaden shrugs again, infuriatingly nonchalant. “I know a guy.”

“Youknow a guy?” I repeat, staring at him like he just told me he moonlights as a secret agent.

“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p.’

Tria claps her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. “See? Aren’t you glad you stayed? Now you can stop sulking and actually have something to look forward to!”

I hate how right she is. My chest feels lighter, my pulse quickening with the realization that tomorrow, I’ll finally get to see the exhibit I’ve been drooling over for months.

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