V is for Veronica Ch. 06

Authors note- i know lmao i know, hot mess I love you forever,

Again: heavy themes of reluctance, promiscuity, and duuuuuumb drama. Dribs and drabs of humiliation kinks and sexual discovery and mmf. Also silliness.

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Janessa

Okay, so I fucked up. I know, look—I know. It's literally preoccupying every stupid brain cell I have. I wish I could say I was drunk but no.

I don't know. Like...I thought that no matter what pendejería I got myself into I could always rely on Veronica to be there. And I mean she was there— she was just...busy.

The pencil in my hand is covered in the bite marks of a pendeja who was just clowning when she found out her BFF was focused on someone else. Like someone other than said pendeja.

The hold music is grating and tinny and I'm beyond ready to go home for the day. It's already late. I look up. The time on the computers says 4:42 pm.

I can probably get out of here early, maybe. The yellow paint on the pencil flecks off onto my lips and I spit.

"Blergh—" it tastes woody, pokey and gross.

Voicemail.

In my bright customer service voice with virtually no indication of any ethnicity whatsoever, I leave a cheerful confirmation message. Then I grab my purse from my bottom drawer, look both ways and dart the fuck out the office while everyone else is busy.

Pendejería.

In my car, I chew on one of my acrylic tips instead of the pencil like a puppy getting teeth. Fuck.

"FUCK," I scream in my car and slam the steering wheel.

I woke up naked in Veronica's bed. I found a sleeping Veronica on the couch, so I stole some of her clothes and snuck out of her freaking house, dragging my complete humiliation behind me.

What's worse is that I had to fucking handle myself when I got home because of how aroused I was. From being humiliated by my sweet bestie. When I fucking...ugh.

This memory is going to haunt me.

I turn on music and start my 30 minute rush hour drive home.

Rakeem. Fuck Rakeem. Where the fuck did Rakeem come from, anyways?

And the way she looked at him— I'm clutching the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white. I feel the tears prick my eyes.

The unwanted voice, the unhinged one that took over hisses and it bounces around my head like a rubber bullet.

She's supposed to be mine, it says and I let out a moan. Not the sexy kind mind you, the kind that only idiots facing their idiocy make.

I want to bury myself in a hole.

God.

Her eyes flashed with an anger I've literally only ever seen directed at her brother.

But then... the taste of her lips on mine, the velvet of her tongue when she stole my mouth. Fuck. What's the matter with me?

I wet my lips.

We've been, like—weirdly polite. It's like that weird thing people do when nobody is really ready to apologize or acknowledge anything but they kinda wanna see where the other person's at without seeing where the other person's at?

That kind of thing.

I called Lukas when I got home and told him almost everything. Like, that I was an ass and that she's mad at me, but not the part where she made me take off all my clothes, whipped my ass and sent me naked and wet to her room only to literally never show up.

That part I kept to myself.

Plot twist. Of all the people in my life, the person I confide my craziness to is a Scandinavian dude dating my fake boyfriend that I met for the first time this month.

I can feel the heat of embarrassment in my face and the arousal in my body, crackling and popping like fire. Traffic not being the ideal place for relieving my tension, I opt into some music instead and try and think about something, anything else.

Why am I like this? My phone rings.

"Dimelo loco," I ask Lukas what's up.

"Oh, good. Come to Mikey's tonight!" he says most Icelandically. He's kind of hard to understand over the speaker.

"Why? He's ugly," I crack.

"You think so? I think he's so cute. I like it so much when he smiles like he's—"

"What's at Mikey's?" I clear my throat really not wanting to get into this conversation.

"Me, silly goose."

I snort. That's ridiculously endearing. "Only because I like you."

"Good! Also there will be others." Udders.

"Others? Who?"

"Guests, yes, and I don't know. Later we chat."

The conversation has evidently ended. I guess a party is better than sitting at home alternating between getting off and crying in shame so...I guess I'm going to Mikey's.

***

Car sex. It's uncomfortable, it's awkward, and it's never as satisfying as the movies make it seem. Grass sex, too. Don't believe the hype, it's itchy and there's ants.

Truck bed sex is a different story. In the right circumstances, that has potential for a hot freaking night. And this one is all set up with sleeping bags and camping gear so it is prime for a romp under the stars.

Mikey's trippin'—molly, I think, because he groped me and tried to kiss me. At Mikey's crib music is bumpin and there are people in various states of fucked up and I'm pretty sure it's not going to break up unless the cops come.

I assumed Lukas was trippin', too, but apparently he's only a couple of beers in.

"This is not your first time, you lying sack of shit," I pant from the back of Mikey's truck in the corner of the lot. I try to catch my breath.

"I swear! I never have tried it before! I always meant to, but no opportunity, you know?" He grins up at me with half lidded eyes and I rasp out a laugh.

"You're handling it pretty well," I wipe my eyes. "Better than me and this is like my millionth time."

"I like it, I think," he says and then immediately blushes.

"Well, I do, too, so quit politicking and pass it back," I reach for the joint and he startles, like he's just realized he still had it and coughs out a huge cloud of smoke.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He laughs, well, giggles, really. "What is politic-ing?"

I shouldn't be hitting this after the ridiculous coughing fit I just had but I'm a glutton for punishment. Obviously.

Luke finally pushes himself up onto the truck bed and I scooch to make room for him amidst the blankets and whatever other bullshit there is back here from Mikey's camping trip. An imitation Mexican serape works double duty as an itchy coat.

The night is the perfect amount of brisk, and I flop back to stare at the stars.

"So what did the texts say?" he asks eventually.

"She said she's sorry for not reaching out and it's not gonna work for her right now," I mutter.

"That's all she said? Like that?" He fixes his baby blues on mine, wide and surprised.

I dig out my phone, open my texts, and hand it to him.

Mara: hey can I see you?

Mara: I'm sorry for the way things left off

Me: things

Mara: yea

Me: u ghosted me now 2 weeks later ur back?

Mara: I didn't ghost you I just needed time to think

Me: u ate my pussy called me ur gf n then disappeared w/o a note or a text

Mara: i'm trying to make it right janessa

Me: y? y now?

Mara: Because you're my girl and I care about you?

Me: lol ok

Mara: Seriously?

Mara: Janessa

Mara: real mature

Mara: you'll talk to Liam but not to me?

Me: Liam comes to me u do not

Mara: you don't come to me either

Mara: what is your deal

"Ew. She's is shitty. Also, it does not say where she is not working out?" Lukas frowns, scrolling back up.

Normally, pointing that out would be unforgivable but he's genuinely confused so I let it pass.

"Well, it's what she meant," I sigh irritably. "Look, I didn't even clap back, that's fucking personal growth, I am HEALED by JESUS," I definitely start reasonable but I end up screeching.

Lukas leans over so we're flush side by side and tilts his head so it's resting on mine. I lay there with crossed arms. I've never had like...a gay bestie. Not that he's a bestie. I just met him. But the point is there.

"Liam hasn't reached out since that night either?" It sounds like 'eeder'. It makes me smile.

I shake my head. I'm somewhere between furious and deeply, darkly sad. It's not a good combo.

"He is a piece of shit, Jani," he sighs. "Boys are dumb. All of us."

Lukas scooches closer and looks at me expectantly. I snort and snuggle in. We pass the joint back and forth until it's burned down to a roach; more than either of us need.

Truthfully, it's nice to have someone that I have not fucked and have no plans/desires to.

That's another one for the "take to the grave" box.

"I am sorry," he sighs. "That sucks."

"Yeah," I mutter.

We're quiet.

"What about Veronica?"

"I don't know. I'm definitely fucked that up. She hates me. I deserve it," I blow a hair out of my face. I sigh. "Coño diablo."

"I unfortunately did not learn Spanish, but I do know French and German," he quips.

"What, no Danish?" I smirk. I am sorry to say I cannot think of A. Another Scandinavian country and B. What country is the Danish one. I am way too fucking high. It's definitely not Daneland.

Definitely not.

I will die ignorant before I ask though.

"Nobody knows Danish. Not even the Danes," he snorts.

"Damn, dissin' on the Danes," I laugh.

He grins, "Sorry, I guess that is a cultural joke. Danish is shit. Too many rules."

I like Lukas.

"Where did Mikey find you? Are you sure you don't go down?" I tease.

Lukas gives me that speculative curious look again.

"That was a joke about getting with women."

"I know, I was thinking," he grins.

"Ooh, I have a chance," I squeeze his hand with a shitty grin. I do not have a chance.

"You would have to wine and dine me, I suppose. I will warn you, I do not fuck on the first date. I would then need to research on google what to do," he pretends to mull it over.

I laugh. "We have on the job training, loco. And I absolutely fuck on the first date."

"Perhaps you don't have performance anxiety," he sniffs.

"DENMARK!" I shout suddenly and Lukas looks at me like I have three heads.

"What do you know about Denmark's performance?" he gasps.

I burst out laughing. "I was blanking on the name."

"You are crazy, girl," he says and it sounds ridiculous in his accent and I love it and it makes me laugh hard enough that he laughs too.

That legal weed, though. That's some shit. Overpriced, but good.

The truck shakes hard as Mikey, shirtless, stupid, and good looking hops up on the bed of the truck.

"There you are, machooooo," his grin is wolfish and predatory. "Dimelo loco, are my girlfriend and boyfriend fucking?"

Ugh, fucking molly.

I look down at our clothed bodies. I look up. "You just missed it. Go back to being gay."

Luke watches him, a smile playing on his lips.

"Hot," Mikey grins, his eyes half lidded. It's hard to see from here but I bet his eyes are seriously dilated. I don't fuck with molly but Mikey takes it all the time. Especially if he's showing up on my arm to a family function.

"This is how I know you trippin'," I suck my teeth.

Mikey crawls over Lukas, forcing me to scooch over or get crushed. He dips his head low and Luke wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

In spite of myself, I watch. Something strikes me about the way Luke's head tilts back, exposing his long neck and prominent Adam's apple, the way his feather light hair tumbles off his forehead, the parking lot lights illuminating his crown like a halo. Something about Mikey's dark curls hanging, barely brushing Luke's face, about Mikey's tatted arms in stark contrast to Lukas's slender pale ones snaking around his neck.

The negative space between their throats frames another parking lot light, highlighted by the dangling of Mikey's silver chain, not quite touching Luke's throat. I'm mesmerized.

Mikey is surprisingly tender, and I realize my heart is racing when I see a peek of Lukas's tongue slip into his mouth. Mikey smiles against the kiss, his teeth straight and white and Luke tugs on his bottom lip, his own smile adorable crooked.

It's not that I'm attracted to them specifically—it's the vibe. The vibe is hot.

Mikey drops to his forearms, pressing his body against Luke's but Luke breaks the kiss and narrows his eyes. "Are you planning to have sex in front of Janessa, because that is very rude."

Mikey's face spreads into a lazy smug grin. "I think she likes it, papito."

Ass. He's not wrong, though.

Lukas turns his face towards mine and Mikey takes the opportunity to bury his face in Luke's neck.

I clear my throat and blink, but Luke catches my eye. He gives me an apologetic look, and when Mikey takes a bite, he gasps and slaps Mikey's bicep.

I turn my face away, cheeks burning and close my eyes. My blood is rushing in my ears and it sounds like Niagara Falls.

Okay. It's time to go.

When I turn back to the pair, Lukas is staring at me. I suck in a breath.

He smiles and his red-rimmed eyes flutter closed. I think he's enjoying the weed.

"Miguel," Lukas breathes.

I snort. Mikey is short for Mykel in the same way that Dani is short for Danielys because Dominicans gonna Dominican. Mikey hates it.

That's hella cute, though. I don't blow up his spot.

"Hmm," he murmurs against his neck, and the sounds of lips on skin make me dizzy. Mikey grinds and gropes, and draws out soft sounds from Luke— who is protesting out of obligation alone.

Okay that's not as cute.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket but I don't bother with it. If it's Mara on dumb shit I will cause a scene. If it's Veronica, I'll cause a different one.

"Have you ever been with a woman, Mikey?" Lukas has that thoughtful look again.

Uh-oh.

"Mmhmm," Mikey's moving down his throat. I can't take my eyes off of him. He drags his teeth down. I'm breathing harder than I'd like to admit. I squeeze my thighs together.

My hair is standing on end. I feel strange but also aroused but also wanting to get the fuck out of here.

The messed up thing is that we're all fucked up just enough that if I pushed it, I could get a piece. Lukas is high enough to be curious, Mikey is rollin' and would probably fuck a fire hydrant given the opportunity, and me? Well, I'm me.

It would probably suck, though. I definitely wouldn't cum.

"What was it like," Lukas murmurs. I look up, his clear blue eyes are hazy and unfocused, but when his gaze meets mine they sharpen. I realize I'm holding my breath.

"Not as good as this," Mikey slides his hands up under Luke's shirt, and Luke is gripping his hair.

"Mikeyyy, tell me," he says on an inhale.

Mikey looks up with a sigh and stares at me with impatience, like this is somehow my fault, but then he suddenly smiles.

"He can't, because he's only good for sucking cock," I give Mikey a sleazy grin.

Wetting his lips, Mikey's eyes narrow in challenge.

"Find out for yourself, jevo," he purrs, his voice filled with lust or insanity, I don't know what the fuck.

Lukas' brow furrows. Mikey juts his chin towards me and Lukas follows his gaze.

I...am honestly curious as to where this is going. Scratch everything I said about desire or quality.

The vibe suddenly changes when Lukas whips his head to look at Mikey and pinches his nipple hard.

"Hey!" Mikey yelps and rolls over. "What the hell?"

Scratch what I said about scratching what I said; this is worth so much more than terrible sex.

"You can't give permission for other people to kiss! She is not a sex toy. See, this is exactly what today we were talking!" Luke chides, aghast. "Janessa, you are not a fetish."

Oh, God, I completely lose my shit laughing.

"I mean, I could be," I manage.

"No! Only when YOU want it!" he exclaims. "Stop kissing me, say sorry."

Mikey looks irritable, but it doesn't stop him from putting his hands on Luke.

"I am serious! Say sorry," he swats his hand.

"Lukas, she doesn't even care," Mikey sighs miserably. "Look!"

I'm in fits. I've never seen anyone talk to him like this. I can barely breathe.

"Are you a man of integrity or no?" Lukas sits up, huffy.

"No," I wheeze and Mikey gives me a murderous look which either makes it worse or better—I can't tell, but my stomach hurts from laughing.

Mikey throws up his hands and huffs, "Fine. I'm sorry, Janessa."

"For?" Lukas prompts like a pre-K teacher. I'm fucking dead. I'm starting to snort. Mikey stares at Luke incredulously but Luke isn't budging.

"I am sorry for offering you up like a hot sub, cabrona," Mikey growls, staring at me like this is all my fault.

I have tears, and I'm delicately trying to wipe them without ruining my makeup, though I'm sure that ship has sailed.

"Okay," I squeeze out, pressing my lips together.

"Okay," Mikey looks at Lukas pointedly.

"Thank you. I love you," Luke sweetens like honey and strokes Mikey's face and I watch Mikey shiver and then melt into him. It sobers me up.

I love you.

What...is that like? I feel an unwelcome pang in my chest. I take the opportunity to slide off the back of his ride.

"Janessa!" Lukas calls. Mikey immediately takes advantage of my departure and pins Lukas with his hips.

"I'll text you, papi," I wink over my shoulder and smile. "Stay busy."

I head to my car, peals of laughter morphing into gasps and moans behind me.

Stupid Mikey.

***

The fallout from Liam and Mara finally hits me and combined with Veronica, I shut down.

I sleep. I sleep and I sleep. I call into work and I sleep.

I sleep and my dad comes in and I tell him I have a cold and I don't feel well. Then my nightstand is filled with cure-alls and soup and any old wives tale ingredient we have in the house.

<3*Padre*<3: we can put onions on your feet. It will draw the sickness out.

Me: I thought u were a man of science

Pai: No, just the humanities.

I smile, but even still I sleep.

***

I dream of a soft body pressed against me smelling of jasmine, stroking my hair from my face and kissing me all over. I dream of big brown eyes gazing into mine and wild curls tumbling down into my face on a truck bed, the light at the far end of the parking lot illuminating the negative space between our throats.

My arms snake around her neck and her plush body and heavy breasts press against me and she smiles when she kisses me and against my lips she says,

"I love you."

And it's not the I love you from a best friend, it's an I love you from a lover and when I wake up again, it's with her name on my lips.

There's no one in the room though. There's never anyone in the room.

Just me, the darkness, and the awareness that, as usual, I fucked up.

I roll over.

My phone buzzes.

I sleep.

***

The body's back. It's soft but not gentle. It also calls me stupid.

I open an eye.

My own eye stares back at me.

"What do you want?" I croak at Dani who is laying with me on the bed staring in my face.

I don't know how long I've been in this purgatory. Maybe a few days. Two?

She turns her face and wrinkles her nose. "Your breath smells like dogshit."

"Nobody told you to come in here," I grumble.

"Actually your spirit reached out to me meísa style and begged for my help," she says through her pinched nose.

I look at her bleary eyed. "You're so full of shit," I mutter. "I didn't send you twin messages."