Page 48 of Ominous: Part 1
Him: Thanks for coming to the vigil.I didn’t come, and we both know it.
Him: I don’t want her knowing shit she shouldn’t, all right?
I know he knows I was with her, but there is no part of me that cares about Dominic’s empty threats and his fucking warnings. Besides, Eden’s text comes in, and I don’t even bother to reply to him.
Her: How bad do you want me to be?
I want to ask her how bad she’s been, if everything she puts on is a front. But the answer she gave me in my car yesterday… there’s something shaded dark in her brain. It doesn’t mean that she has any experience whatsoever though. It could all be a façade. I wanted to tell her about… snuff films. I wanted to tell her about all the ways I’ve fantasized aboutherfantasy. I want to tell her I’m not as good as I seem. I’m a liar. I’m a cheater. I’d have watched that boy drown and not felt a fucking thing.
I want to tell her the worst thing I’ve ever done, and it wasn’t even illegal.
I don’t, because I’m not fucking stupid.
Me: How bad have you been?I run my thumb over the bead of precum on the tip of my dick, biting my lip as I watch her typing. I can’t tell when she’s acting, but I know she’s far bolder through texts, about sexual things. She’s shy when I get too close. I want to ask if she’s a virgin, but I don’t want her to think I care about the answer. I’m just… curious.
Her: What exactly are you asking?
She doesn’t keep up the sexting, and I think I know why. Squeezing my dick with one hand, I type with the other, and I just decide to get it out of the way.
Me: How many people have you slept with?
I stare at my phone as I stroke myself, but she isn’t typing.
Minutes go by. I get myself off imagining her crawling into my lap in my car, cradling my face in her hands. Hitting her head against the car window. Hearing her cries against my ear.
Being the only one who has ever fucked her.
But I never find out if it could be true.
She doesn’t text me back.
11
Eden
“What do you think about this?”Mom holds up a dark red tank top across the aisle from me, with black laces through the middle, like a backwards corset, it goes all the way to the collar.
I love it and I know she sees it in my smile. After work today, we came here together to her favorite thrift store, needing to get Reece more dress shirts for work. He hates shopping so I got her to myself. Good thing, because Eli wants us to hang out Friday night, and he wants to take me to a party. I’m not sure, but I think I should ask to stay the night.
It’s Thursday, so I need to ask… today.
I’ve been good about not staying out except for work, and I’ve tiptoed around Reece to stay on his good side this week. I know Mom might be reluctant to let me go after what happened at Shoreside, but I’m eighteen. She can’t lock me away forever.
I just need her in a good mood before I drop the question.
I slowly hold up the hanger looped around my finger with a green, Taking Back Sunday T-shirt on it. “But can I have both?” I flash what I hope is a winning smile.
She rolls her eyes, laughing as she sets the burgundy tank in the cart already filled with plaid shirts for my stepdad. I have my own money from work, but she never lets me pay when she takes me shopping. I don’t let myself take it for granted.
“Yeah, yeah.” She acts like it’s a hassle, but she’s still smiling. I think she enjoys these moments when we’re together. I think after Shoreside, she thought maybe she didn’t know me at all. But when we’re alone like this, I get to be her innocent daughter again.
Innocent.I think about Eli’s text I ignored. He didn’t ask again, and when he texted me Monday morning, he pretended I didn’t ghost him about it.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, doing a little victory dance in the aisle. Then I glance forlornly at the rows of clothes I haven’t gone through yet. I’m on the green aisle, this entire place organized by color. I haven’t even gotten to the black aisle yet, which is my favorite.
But I don’t complain as I head around the aisle to drop the band tee into Mom’s cart.
She starts pushing it to the outer aisles, heading for the register. “There’re a few necklaces you might like at the counter there.” She nods her head up ahead, a glass display case just before checkout.
