My eyes feel like they’re lined with sandpaper as I drag myself into the chem lab. It’s Wednesday, and I’m running on fumes. Since Saturday, Ashley has been absolutely relentless. With my mom working night shifts and her mom not giving a damn what she does as long as she’s with me, we’ve been going at it until 3 AM every night.
Don’t get me wrong. Having regular sex is awesome. Mind-blowing, even. But holy shit, I need sleep. My body feels like it’s been hit by a truck, then backed over just to make sure the job was done right.
I slump into my chair at the lab station, my backpack hitting the floor with a thud that feels too loud in the quiet room. No professor today, just the experiment he assigned last week sitting on the counter waiting to be completed. I stare blankly at the beakers, trying to remember what the hell we’re even supposed to be doing.
“There’s my favorite chemistry lab partner!”
The voice makes my stomach clench instantly. I turn to see Portia sliding onto the stool beside me, her purple hair catching the fluorescent lights in a way that makes it look almost electric. Her smile is wide and predatory, like a cat who’s cornered something small and helpless.
I manage a nod, not trusting myself to form actual words.
“I can’t believe we ran into each other this weekend, huh? Such a small world.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, fumbling with my lab notebook. “Small world.”
Portia’s amber eyes study me with that unsettling intensity that always makes me feel like I’m being dissected. “You look absolutely wrecked, Vincent. Late night?”
If she only knew. Images of Ashley’s body moving over mine flash through my mind, her hands pinning my wrists to the mattress as she rode me mercilessly. The way she demanded more, even after I was spent.
“Just studying,” I lie, my voice cracking slightly.
Portia’s eyes drop to my neck, and she leans forward, getting too close for comfort. I fight the urge to pull away as her finger traces along my collarbone.
“Studying, huh? I noticed at Bella Notte that you and Ashley both have quite the collection of... souvenirs.” Her eyes gleam with mischief. “Someone’s been marking their territory.”
My hand instinctively goes to my neck where I know there’s a trail of purplish marks Ashley left. I don’t hide them, though. Ashley was very specific about this part. Make sure Portia sees the hickeys. Let her notice. Something about sending a message back to her friends, which honestly doesn’t make a ton of sense to me, but I promised I’d play along.
“Well...” I mumble, my voice coming out more strained than I intended. “We just like to do that kind of stuff, I guess.”
God, I sound like such an idiot. My face is burning so hot I could probably boil the chemicals sitting in front of us.
Portia tilts her head, studying me like I’m some fascinating science experiment gone wrong. Her lips curl into a small, knowing smile.
“I wonder why she feels the need to mark you up so... aggressively,” she says, her voice silky smooth. “It’s rather childish, don’t you think? Makes me wonder if she’s actually satisfying you properly. People who are secure in their relationships rarely feel the need to advertise ownership quite so... blatantly.”
“Huh?” I blink at her, completely thrown by the comment.
She waves her hand dismissively, that smile never leaving her face. “Relax, Vincent. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Her fingers brush against my collarbone again, feather-light but somehow invasive. “It’s just that when I let my toys out to play, I prefer they hide their bruises.”
My throat goes completely dry. There’s something deeply unsettling about the way she says “toys” that makes my skin crawl.
“Ashley’s actually a really good girlfriend,” I blurt out defensively, pulling away from her touch. “She’s not insecure.”
I surprise myself with how quickly I jump to Ashley’s defense. No matter what weird arrangement we have, she’s my friend again. That counts for something.
Portia’s laughter fills the lab. “Wow, you’re so sensitive, Vincent.” Her amber eyes glitter with amusement. “If a little joke makes you this nervous, you must not be very confident in your relationship.”
I stare down at the lab equipment, trying to calm my racing heart. This girl completely outclasses me in every way. The casual cruelty, the perfectly timed comments that slip under my skin like needles, she’s playing a game I don’t understand with rules I never agreed to.
“Let’s just start the experiment,” I mutter, reaching for the worksheet on the counter, desperate to change the subject.
“Yes, yes,” Portia agrees, her voice suddenly businesslike. She slides closer, her shoulder brushing against mine as she leans over the paper. “This one looks simple enough.”
We work in silence for a few minutes, measuring chemicals and recording data. I start to relax slightly, falling into the comforting rhythm of the scientific method.
“You know,” Portia says casually as she adds three drops of solution to our mixture, “Caroline mentioned she remembered you from high school.”
My head snaps up, heart instantly hammering against my ribs. “She did?”
“Mmhmm.” Portia doesn’t look at me, focused on carefully measuring the next chemical. “She said you were extremely quiet. Always kept your head down, never spoke unless forced to.” She glances sideways at me, her eyes curious. “Isn’t that lonely?”
“I didn’t mind it,” I lie, adjusting the Bunsen burner to avoid meeting her gaze.
“I think you did,” she says softly, her voice lacking its usual edge. “I think you still do.”
The words tumble out of me before I can stop them. “Is this what you do to everyone you know? Just... dissect them like this?”
Her eyes widen slightly, and for the first time since we met, Portia looks genuinely surprised. Then that calculating smile returns, warmer this time.
“No,” she says, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Only the ones that seem interesting.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I’m not interesting. Trust me.” The exhaustion must be getting to me because suddenly I’m saying things I’d never normally admit. “Ashley is literally my only friend. I go home and just sit on my computer all night.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I feel this strange lightness in my chest. Like I’ve been carrying around this heavy truth for so long, and finally setting it down feels... freeing somehow.
“So you’re only with Ashley because she’s kind to you? Because she gives you attention?”
“No!” The denial bursts out of me with unexpected force. “That’s not it at all. I’m with Ashley because I love her.”
The words hang in the air between us. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize what I’ve just said. It’s a lie… It has to be. Because we’re not really dating…
Portia’s eyebrows shoot up. “My, my... why are you getting so defensive, Vincent? I simply asked a question.”
“Stop.” The word comes out more forcefully than I intended, my hands gripping the edge of the lab table until my knuckles turn white.
“Stop what?” Portia asks, her amber eyes widening with theatrical innocence. Her head tilts slightly, purple hair falling across one cheek in what I’m sure is a carefully calculated movement.
“Stop asking me questions.” My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears, exhaustion and frustration making it hard to maintain any semblance of composure. “Please. Let’s just do our work.”
“Fine,” she says, turning back to our experiment with casual grace. “But know I’m excited to learn more about you this semester Vincent.”