Page 42 of Vicious Little Snakes
“Come here, baby.”
I hesitate, only for a moment—maybe to grieve the girl I could be if life hadn’t made me fight back so hard. But my smile is firmly in place as I sit on his leg, taking the rolled bill from his fingers, and lean down, inhaling the powder, pinching my nose closed as I come up.
“Pink coke,” I laugh. “What a ridiculous invention.”
Kai’s mouth descends on my neck as I stare at myself in the mirror, wiping away any evidence of my sadness and hating myself just a little bit more.
Liam
Past—twelve years old
Grey’s been gone since Monday morning, and now it’s Wednesday. He was suspended for the week over what he did, but it’s better that way because when his dad found out about what he did, Grey took a beating. Sometimes I think his father looks for reasons.
I, however, didn’t get into any trouble. My dad patted my shoulder and said, “Sometimes moments shape us, and sometimes we shape the moment. I’m proud of you, son.”
I didn’t really get it, but I was happy to not be in trouble.
The bell rings, so I shove my book inside my desk, looking out the windows, wondering how hot it’ll be. It’s October. It’s supposed to be cold—but mother nature didn’t get the memo. I hate doing P.E. outside when it’s hot.
“Boys, please line up for lacrosse,” Mr. Green calls out. “And girls, I believe you will have dance in the gymnasium.”
So unfair. I groan, looking around the room as I stand from my desk, noticing Caroline doing the same. Kids are standing up around me, getting ready to line up, but I’m chewing the inside of my cheek, trying another glance at Caroline without her noticing.
The day after the shit hit the fan, she acted like I was invisible, completely ignoring me. But I still see her.
My feet shuffle behind the kids in my row, taking quick looks as we move toward the front. I survey the boy’s line, doing fast math, and grab the kid in front of me.
“Switch places with me,” I whisper to the back of his head.
“Why?”
“Because I fucking said.”
I tug him back, making him switch, falling into line right next to Caroline. My hands shove into my khakis as I look over and pretend to not care about anything. We come to a stop in the line, and I give myself an internal high five for planning correctly. She’s picking at her nail polish. I let my eyes dart over again—light pink nail polish.
“This is stupid,” she mumbles, looking up.
“Huh?” I answer, my face darting to her profile—too eager, dipshit.
Her scowl remains fixed on her pretty features as she answers.
“I was talking to myself.”
“That’s weird.”Dude…why’d just you say that?
She glares at me, one hand on her hip.
“No, sorry. I meant, why are you talking to yourself?”
Oh yeah. That’s better. I’m an idiot.
“Because, clearly, it’s the best company.”
Ouch. I deserved that. I run my hands through my unruly hair—that’s too long according to my mom—and let out a breath. Fuck. I’m nervous—Caroline’s scary.
I itch my chin. “Are you always so harsh?”
“Are you always so”—she pauses, motioning up and down—“this?”
