Page 68 of Ivy's Venom

Shit.

Neil: Yeah. Well on your street again, like a stalker.

Shit!

Neil: No pressure. I can leave.

Me: Wait.

The part that wants to see his face wins out over the anxiety of seeing him and I pull on a hoodie, opening the gate with the app on my phone.

Me: Come up.

I’m watching the video surveillance on my phone and the second I see the hood of his car, my heart is in my throat. Just when I thought I must be having a heart attack, he steps out and my heart begins to pound, moving my whole chest. He looks good, happy, and I’m petrified that I might have to pretend to be those things.

I open my front door and then back up to sit on the stairs as he comes up the porch. He looks at me and gives me a small smile as he steps into the house, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches down to remove his boots, and then hangs his jacket on the hook.

“Your dad said something about being in New York this weekend, and he may have asked if I’d be stalking you.”

“Dad asked you to come by?” I’m a little shocked by that.

“Just asked if I’d be stalking.” He shrugs. “Figured I wouldn’t let him down.”

There it is again, the slight quirk of my mouth, and then the overwhelming need to cry. Not because I’m sad, but because for the first time ever, someone has been able to reach me through my fog of depression and slowly draw me out.

“Oh,” he snaps his fingers and reaches into his jacket, “I brought a list of movies I like and thought we could try to have a marathon. I assume you have Netflix?” He looks at me over his shoulder.

I nod.

“Great. I ordered pizza, you can have the Hawaiian because I think it’s blasphemy to put pineapples on pizza. Saxon and I will have the meat lovers.”

“Saxon?” My voice is raspy.

“He’s been my spy inside.” He nods.

Seriously? Saxon? He sees the look on my face and grins.

“We’re besties now.”

“Besties sound like something adolescent girls scream at slumber parties.” Saxon’s monotone words hit me from behind.

“You’re an adolescent.” Neil raises his brow.

“Are we going to paint our nails and sing Taylor Swift songs, too?” Saxon reaches the stair I’m sitting on and pats my head.

“I like Taylor Swift.” Neil gives Saxon a confused look as he passes him and goes to the family room.

“Figured as much.” Saxon retorts.

“He’s fucking mean.” Neil looks at me with shock and a chuckle escapes me.

“Yeah, he can be.” I nod.

About a half an hour later, our pizzas arrive and the three of us settled in to watch Transformers, the first movie on Neil’s list. There are six of these movies and Neil says we have to watch all of them.

By the third movie, I am nudging a sleeping Saxon, and telling him to go to bed. Neil is also looking a bit tired but I’m used to little sleep.

Saxon gets up and drags his feet out of the room, heading to bed and Neil restarts the movie. When Neil and I were kids and Charlotte, too, we would always watch movies. They were my first friends outside of family and the three of us had a bond until Neil matured, refusing to chill with us girls anymore.

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