“Trish, this isn’t funn—” The sound of something metal grinding into something has a shiver running through my body before I can hang up. A distorted voice whispers, “Will you scream for me, Prom Queen?” My spine locks at the words. My heart hikes up to my throat while my stomach churns and turns. The silence turns to breathy moans, and that’s when I decide I’ve had enough and hang up.
I turn to my brother and, using my index finger, I motion for him to get moving. “School tomorrow. Eat, shower, and sleep.”
My brother groans in disapproval. “It’s literally not even eight.”
“I’m in charge so,” I snap back, crossing my arms over my stance,like our mother used to do when she actually cared to parent us. He throws the plastic container from the TV dinner away.
“I’m fifteen, I shouldn’t need a babysitter,” he argues as he heads out the kitchen but not before shoulder checking me in the process.
Once I can no longer hear his footsteps, I finally breathe again. He’s right, he doesn’t need one. I choose to because, not only does it put a couple of dollars in my pockets, but it helps him too.
Thankfully, by the time I finally make my way to my room, Tommy is in his, music muffled through the wall. Before I get a chance to freshen up, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle catches my attention. Moving towards the small circular window by the stairs, I confirm Trish's arrival and make my way back down the steps and out the door to greet her.
Trish removes her helmet and rushes to my side. I look down at myself for a second and feel self conscious. I'm still wearing the clothes from earlier today, and with the mess inside the house, this was a bad idea. Trish closes the distance, and her arm bands around my waist, dragging me to her. “How about some weed and pussy?”
My eyebrow hikes to my forehead. “Straight to the point, I see.”
She smiles and the sight makes my core flutter. “No need to waste time when there’s a killer on the loose.” Trish wiggles her fingers as if to frighten me, but all it does is cause us to laugh. “Come on, let’s go inside, it’s freezing.”
“Lead the way.”
And I do.
Only for the damn phone to ring the moment we step inside. “Do you need to answer that?”
I shake my head immediately. “No.”
She gives me a puzzling look, but doesn’t question me despite it. We head towards the back of the house, when the sight of the dishes come into view. Heat crawls up my neck until finally settling in my cheeks. Beside me, Trish removes her jacket and places it on the table before taking a seat. “Come,” she commands, patting her leg for me to sit, and of course… I do.
“You look adorable when you’re blushing.’’ Her cold finger trails up the length of my neck until it settles on my lips, and then we kiss. It’s slow at first, clumsy even. Then I rock against her, trying to work up some friction as her hands dig at my hips and her tongue swipes along the seams of my lips, demanding access. I grant it, my mouth opening to allow her in. With a groan, our tongues move in tandem with our desperate touches. When the phone rings again, I ignore it the first time, even the second time it rings, but by the third time, Trish pulls away. “Seriously, you might want to get that. It’s killing the moment.”
I agree with a loud exhale, and it takes every shred of willpower inside me to get myself off her and answer that god damn phone. Once again, I place the phone to my ear. “He—” My words are cut off by low, guttural groans. “I wanna see what your inside looks like, Prom Queen,” the distorted voice mutters as the sound of metal grinding on metal catches my attention. I swallow hard, trying todislodge the lump forming at my throat.
It doesn’t.
If anything it grows bigger when he asks, “Do you like scary movies… Jessica.”
I hang up, slamming the phone into the base, and I feel the color drain from my body, and with it, my warmth. My body becomes a quivering mess. Trish is right beside me trying to get me to look at her before she cups my face and forces me too. “You okay, Jess?”
Am I?
No…
Who would be?
At this point, I’m sure that I can trust her, so I fill her in on the calls. She lets out a low whistle and turns to face the wall. “Fuck, Jessica,” she mutters as she rakes her fingers through her hair. “You need to tell someone.” Trish spins towards me then. “You could be next.”
The words land in a devastating blow, I didn’t even want to be fucking prom queen and now I have a target on my back. Deciding that I’m not going to wait around like a sitting duck, I loop my finger around her belt loop and tug her towards me until she’s flush against my front and my back is against the wall.
“You only live once, no?” I ask as my finger moves behind the waistband of her jeans. Trish licks her lips, watching as my finger disappears and finds its mark. “Mmm,” she hums while she softly rocks against my hand. Using my thumb, I apply a little pressure to her sensitive bud and slowly roll it in small circles. “Fuck,” she chokes out. “Jess.”
The way she says my name erupts a flow of lava through my bloodstream. I crash my lips into hers, my tongue slipping inside her mouth to deepen the kiss. Once again, the phone rings, but we ignore it. But after it rings for a second time, Trish pulls away with a string of curses and answers the phone.
“HELLO!” she practically shouts. “HELLO.”
I grab the phone when I see the confused look on her face. Once again, there’s nothing but breathing and static. I hang up without a word and resume making out with Trish. Then, the phone rings again, and this time it’s me wishing I could rip it from the wall. Trish answers and this time, from the look on her face, there’s an actual talking person on the other side.
“Paul?” she questions, but it sounds more like an accusation. “I mean, yeah, she's here. It’s her house.” There’s a beat of silence before Trish speaks again. “Yeah, hold on.”
