Tryst Six Venom

1

Clay

Want to bet my mother is about to have a meltdown?

I'm sure it's after nine. She should be home, flushing out any calories she consumed today, and finishing up step five of her skincare regimen instead of waiting for me at the dress shop right now.

I'm so late.

Confetti flies in the air, and I reach down, grabbing three more rolled-up T-shirts out of the bucket as the parade float bounces and sways under us.

"More shirts!" I yell over to Krisjen to restock.

The crowd cheers on both sides of the street, and I jump down off the step, stopping at the edge as I hold my hand to my ear.

Come on. Let me hear it!

"Ah!" little girls scream.

"Hi, Clay!" tiny six-year-old Manda Cabot squeals at me like I'm a Disney princess. "Hi!"

She waves at me as her twin sister, Stella, holds up her hands, ready to catch.

A comfortable breeze blows through the palms lining Augustine Avenue, grazing my bare legs in my jean shorts as the potted pink lantanas hang on the street lamps lining the road and fill the air with their scent.

Just your typical balmy Florida winter evening.

"We want a shirt!" Stella cries.

I shoot my arm up in the air, my white T-shirt with the word BIG shining in bold silver letters.

I smile, shouting, "You wanna be a Little?"

"Yeah!" they cry out.

"Then I need to hear it!" I move my feet, doing a little dance move. "Omega Chi Kappa! Come on!"

"Omega Chi Kappa!" they shout. "Omega Chi Kappa!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Omega Chi Kappa!" they scream so loud their baby teeth damn near shake.

Oh my God. So adorbs. I hope I have daughters.

I throw them both an underhand toss and resume dancing to the music as the truck pulls us at a crawl, our float in the middle of a long line of floats, all celebrating the annual Founder's Day.

"See you in a few years!" I tell them. "Be good and study!"

"Yeah, we only take the best!" Amy Chandler shouts next to me.

Followed by Krisjen's chirp at my other

Penelope Douglas