Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 22: Your Mom

Chapter 22: Your Mom

-Kathrine Andrews: ( Song of the Chapter: House Of Cards by BTS)

We rode our motorcycles to school that morning, and for once, I wasn’t on my usual bike.

Brandon had insisted I try his Harley—he said I needed to know what a real motorcycle felt like.

I’d never ridden a Harley before, so I didn’t even hesitate when he offered.

"Just don’t scratch her up, that’s my child" he joked as he handed over his keys and then he kissed his bike.

A chuckled built its way out of my mouth when I noticed Michael rolling his eyes at the way his boyfriend is being all lovey-dovey with a bike.

In exchange, I gave him and his boyfriend my purple Ninja to share.

The drive was incredible. The Harley was heavier, louder, and slower than I was used to, but it felt like raw power beneath me.

The wind whipped around me, and I couldn’t help but grin as we sped down the road.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else—about school, about the stares, about the people who thought I was some kind of freak. It was just me, the road, and my new friends.

But, of course, the moment we pulled into the parking lot, the attention started.

A group of eight motorcycles rumbling in together wasn’t exactly subtle, and I was used to turning heads.

I’d been the only one riding a motorcycle to school before, but this? This was different. Everyone was looking, whispering.

"Do they have to stare?" I muttered under my breath as I pulled off my helmet.

Brandon chuckled beside me, slinging an arm around his Michael who leaned into him.

"Or they’re just scared," piped Emma, as she adjusted her leather jacket. "We do look intimidating as hell."

"Let them stare," Daniel said, leaning casually against his bike. "They’ve got nothing better to do."

We laughed, brushing off the attention as best we could, and headed inside.

The whispers followed us, but I kept my head high, pretending not to notice.

Once inside, we split up, heading to our separate classes. "What do you have first?" Brandon asked as we walked through the crowded hallway.

"History," I replied, rolling my eyes. "You?"

"Physics. Kill me now," he groaned, earning a laugh from his boyfriend who pulled him closer.

Emma chimed in, "I’ve got chemistry, so I’ll probably blow something up. Meet you guys in the cafeteria later?"

"Yeah, save me a seat," I said before we all went our separate ways.

Classes dragged, as they always did. History was a bore, the teacher droning on about something I’d already read in the textbook.

My mind kept drifting back to the parking lot, to the way people had stared. I hated it.

No matter how many times I told myself their opinions didn’t matter, it still got under my skin.

Finally, the lunch bell rang, and I made my way to the cafeteria.

Our table was easy to spot—Brandon, Michael, Ryan, Ethan, Daniel, Lily, and Emma, were already there, chatting and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. I grabbed my tray and joined them.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Ryan teased as I sat down.

"Some of us go to class, you know," I shot back, smirking.

"How was history?" Brandon asked, stealing a fry off my plate.

"About as exciting as watching paint dry," I said. "What about you? Survive physics?"

"Barely," he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "I think I left half my brain in that classroom."

Lily laughed. "At least you didn’t blow anything up. I almost set my lab and Emma’s notebook on fire."

"Typical," Daniel said, shaking his head, earning a smack on his head by Lily.

We kept talking, the conversation flowing easily.

They were the only people who made me feel like I belonged like I didn’t have to try so hard to be anything but myself.

For the first time at this school, I felt at ease, surrounded by people who didn’t care about the whispers or the stares.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else.

My attention was immediately drawn to Glyndon and her group, along with her boyfriend, as loud and overbearing as ever.

Even from across the cafeteria, it was impossible not to notice her.

She was dressed in her school uniform, but her blazer was missing, leaving her crisp button-down shirt in the spotlight.

The buttons looked like they were barely holding on, straining against her breasts. She was so... blessed in that area, and I hated the way my mind lingered on it.

I hated even more that I wanted to touch her again, to feel what I’d felt in the showers.

Her hair was styled half-up, half-down, the strands falling perfectly around her small face, and she was wearing heels that somehow made her uniform look even better.

I knew her feet were probably screaming in pain—heels during a school day weren’t practical—but she still managed to look effortlessly composed.

Alex was glued to her side, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as if he thought she might run away.

She wasn’t running, though. She wasn’t even really there. Her eyes stared blankly at nothing, her body moving on autopilot as he led her through the cafeteria.

Brandon, sitting next to me, let out a low grunt of annoyance. "These people again," he muttered, making no effort to hide his disdain.

I couldn’t help but smirk. Thankfully, my new group hated Glyndon and her crowd as much as I did.

They weren’t just bullies—they were homophobic bullies.

That hatred bonded us, and in just two days, my group had made me feel like I belonged.

They’d welcomed me in with open arms, and for the first time in a long while, I felt safe.

We were sitting peacefully, laughing about something Brandon had said when Glyndon’s group decided to invade.

Alex led the way, of course, his arrogance radiating off him as they approached.

They stopped right in front of us, blocking our view of the rest of the room.

Alex didn’t waste time. His smug grin turned into a sharp question. "We got your picture in the school showers. Who was that girl with you?"

My stomach twisted. I knew exactly what picture he was talking about. The one of me and Glyndon in the shower.

The moment the question left his mouth, I saw Glyndon’s body tense.

Her wide eyes darted to mine, filled with fear. She was terrified—of him, of me, of what this could do to her life.

I could ruin her life by saying her name now.

But I wasn’t going to let her misery end this easily.

I straightened in my seat, looked him dead in the eye, and said firmly, "It’s none of your business."

Alex’s grin widened, but it wasn’t friendly. He leaned closer, his tone dripping with venom. "Come on, just tell us. We want to know if there’s another Lesbo at school."

For a moment, I saw red. Then, without thinking, I smirked and shot back, "It was your mom."

The words had barely left my mouth before my friends burst into laughter. Even some of Alex’s group couldn’t hold back their snickers.

The way Alex’s face fell was priceless, his smug expression crumbling into something sour and humiliated.

"That’s not funny," he snapped, glaring at me. "You think you’re a comedian? What do you even like in women?"

Before I could answer, Brandon jumped in, leaning forward with an infuriatingly calm smile. "She just told you it was your mom. Maybe ask Mommy."

My friends roared with laughter again, and Alex’s face turned red as he turned his attention to Brandon.

His eyes dropped to where Brandon was proudly holding hands with his boyfriend.

A cruel smirk spread across Alex’s face as he sneered, "Oh, so you’re a fag too. No wonder you’re defending her."

Brandon didn’t flinch. Instead, he smirked right back, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Jealous, Alex? You’re not my type, but..." He trailed off, his gaze raking up and down Alex’s figure with exaggerated interest.

Then he turned to Michael, his smirk widening. "What do you think, babe? Should we make an exception?"

Michael’s lips twitched, and it was clear he was seconds away from bursting into laughter. "Don’t tempt me," he managed to choke out, barely holding it together.

Alex looked like he was ready to explode.

He grabbed Glyndon’s arm, muttering something under his breath, and stormed off with his minions trailing behind him.

As soon as they were out of earshot, our table erupted into laughter again.

Brandon was practically doubled over, and Michael was wiping tears from his eyes.

"I think we embarrassed him," I said, grinning despite the lingering tension in my chest.

"That’s the point," Brandon replied, raising his soda in a mock toast. "Straight men and their egos."

As we sat at our table, laughing at what Brandon had said to Alex, I caught Glyndon stealing glances at me from across the cafeteria.

Each time our eyes met, my chest tightened with a mixture of satisfaction and something darker, something I didn’t want to name.

She was terrified—I could see it in the way her hands trembled as she pushed her food around her tray, her wide eyes darting between me and her friends.

The fear in her eyes made my blood hum. I wanted to savor it, to draw it out. My mind spun with all the ways I could break her, and unravel her perfect little facade in front of everyone.

I’d do it slowly, savoring every crack in her carefully constructed mask.

Or maybe I’d shatter her all at once, letting her crumble in the same way she had tried to destroy me.

The thought sent a delicious thrill through me, and I leaned back in my chair, feeling a sharp, quiet satisfaction.

She was scared—and she should be. This was only the beginning.