“Nothing,” Ophelia said. She drew her phone in closer to her chest, attempting to hide the screen.
“Ophelia’s getting married,” Zero announced, grinning.
“Brody proposed?” I asked her.
“No!” Ophelia colored. “I mean…not yet. I’m just dreaming.You.” Ophelia held a warning finger at Zero. “Shut up.”
Zero made a motion as though he were zipping his mouth shut and flicking aside the key.
My shoulder brushed against hers. “Not the white,” I told her.
Ophelia lifted her eyebrows. “Because I’m no virgin?” She sucked her tongue against her teeth. “That’s pretty old fashioned, even for you.”
My gaze dropped to her collar, the green emerald shining, before finding her eyes again.
“Because your color isn’t white. It’s green.”
Now, some of the humor left her eyes. “I don’t think that’s your call.”
“Does he make you cum?” The question came rushing out of me, like an arrow.
Ophelia’s eyes widened. Arrow, hit. “What?”
I couldn’t stop myself. The punch I never threw at Brody, the words I’d swallowed back, all the times I’d wanted her and held myself at bay—it came rushing out of me. “Or do you fake it and lay there, pent up and frustrated, waiting for my permission?—?”
Ophelia smacked me. Her hand left a sharp, deserved stinging sensation across my cheek.
“Fuck you.” Her voice trembled.
Arrow, returned.
She walked away, shoving her shoulder against mine as she went. Even Zero gave me a questioning look, his eyebrows lifted.
“Don’t,” I told him. He dropped his gaze, chastised.
The worst parts of me had woken up, and it was impossible to hold them back anymore.
I needed to get out of here. I backed away from the bar and wove through the club, making my way back to the basement. As I did, I spotted the man in theSubway Ratzhat again.
I snapped my fingers at him. “You.” He blinked at me. I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. “Out.”
“What?” He balked. “What’d I do?”
Without missing a beat, I told him: “I don’t like your mustache.”
Oh, right. Well. There’s the story behind the mustache guy, if you were curious.
Anyway.
Neither Ophelia nor I played that night.
I locked myself in the basement, sat at my desk, and started writing. I drafted letter after letter. I tried to tell Ophelia what was going on. She needed to know. But each letter just came out worse. Phrases started appearing like:
Don’t be with him.
Be with me.
Controlling, demanding, possessive, dominant.
