Page 72 of Make Me Scream

How would I even begin to explain the sarcophagus and all of that?

“We worked on our art,” I say, looking away from Joel. “He taught me some new techniques.”

“And that’s a euphemism for what, exactly?”

A weariness passes through me; I glance down at my thighs. Every lie to Joel sucks away at some store of energy and my conscience only has so much to spare.

He’s already keeping the relationship a secret. As long as I don’t talk about Alistair Rat, the rest should be okay, I think.

“If I show you something strange, do you promise not to freak out?”

Joel wipes off his mouth and sits up straight.

“No, but now you have to tell me.”

I stand up and pull down my shorts, showing him the belt beneath.

“What the fuck is that?” he mumbles, leaning in to stare.

“It’s not even the craziest part.”

I leave out the fact that there’s a rod inside me, but go into the rest: being locked in the box, Lane’s trick and all the drawings.

“So he just has this stuff in his apartment?”

“No, at his studio.”

“Oh, well of course,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. “I had no idea Lane was so… extra.”

“You didn’t see his exhibition at Galleria Carnale. Here, this is what I did yesterday.”

I show him the drawings from my phone, flipping through them one at a time.

“These are really cute. You did this all with a stylus?”

“Yup.”

“That’s impressive,” says Joel, handing me back my phone.

A surge of pride swirls through my chest. Coming from him, it means a lot. He’d tell me if they were shit.

“Thanks. It felt good to draw again. I’d been so focused on Enmity Jane, I kinda ignored illustration. I missed it. I just wish Lane hadn’t ruined the whole thing by fucking with my head like that… I mean, do you think I overreacted? I was really hungry. Maybe I shouldn’t have lost it on him.”

Joel nods, glancing down at my waist.

“No, that was messed up,” he says. “But, I think he had good intentions. He just went too far.”

That’s true, I guess. Lane thought the situation would help, especially if I’m going to make art like Alistair Rat. Joel’s not even factoring in that part of it.

“Do you like… that?” Joel asks, pointing down at my belt. “It’s not too weird?”

“Oh, it’s super weird.” Laughing, I rub the metal band through my shorts. “But I do like it. A lot, actually. I like… letting him have control.”

Joel looks at me for a moment, concentration in his eyes.

“I want to paint you with it on,” he says.

Oh.

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