Banshee | $crim

2. Morgen

I wasn't nervous. In fact, I was a little turned on by the way he leaned over me, the smell of coffee and cigarettes on his breath.

"Come out here with me," he instructed, leading me to the balcony that overlooked the pool and lighting a cigarette. Everyone looked like ants from up here. I sat across from him, the moon illuminating his face. "Is Penny short for something?"

Growing up, I couldn't escape my childhood nickname – Flea. Apparently, Penelope was too hard to pronounce, so it just got shortened to Flea at home; my mom can't recall how it started. Eventually, the name leaked into school for teachers and classmates started calling me Flea as well. As I grew older and attempted to insist on going by my full name, the nickname stuck.

Unlike a lot of my classmates, I made it out of the little town in the bayou. The country life, where life stands still year after year, was a life that was never made for me. My mom was born, raised, and still lives in the same house her mother grew up in. She's never left South Louisiana, let alone the country. I'll be damned if I continued to stay in the town that destroyed me in the first place.

When I moved out of my hometown and to New Orleans, part of this adventure included rebranding myself. Like a metamorphosis, I became someone new. I was no longer Flea, a Cajun girl from the swamp. I was Penny, a city girl with big plans.

Flea was never invited to birthday parties. Penny got noticed by boys in the club. Flea's mom was the town lunatic and thought the government was going to harvest her organs. Penny didn't get nervous talking to strangers. Flea sometimes had to stay with family because her mom couldn't watch her anymore. Penny didn't have to worry anymore.

"It is short for something...it's just not for me."

"Well," he said, taking another sip, "my name isn't really Scrim."

He ashed his cigarette in the tray in front of us. He did his best to keep the smoke from blowing in my face, but the wind forced the cloud towards me anyway.

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he offered.

"It's Penelope," I said, blushing. I've been told my name sounds like I'm an old French lady haunting a mansion.

"That's a perfectly fine name, Penelope. I think it's pretty." I side-eyed him. "Mine's Anthony, but don't go telling people that either."

I took a mental note just in case this ended up being part of the puzzle I needed to get the police off my back.

When he stood up to look over the balcony, I followed. We talked for a while, watching all the people congregate around the pool until he moved from beside me to behind me, his hands resting on my waist and his hips rubbing against my back. I followed his rhythm until he pushed me slightly so my chest was leaning against the rail.

"Be quiet, I don't want people looking up here," he ordered as he slid my panties down to my ankles and lifted my dress. I heard him unzip his pants before feeling his skin against mine. He didn't hesitate to insert himself in me. "Fuck..."

It was hard not to make a sound, but I did what I could. The music was loud enough to hopefully cover up whatever squeaks might've escaped, especially when he grabbed a handful of my hair and started going faster and harder or when he smacked my ass so hard, I knew it would hurt to sit down tomorrow.

"You on birth control?" he slurred between breaths. I gave my reply before he came in me, one hand still grabbing my hair and the other gripping my hip. "I got shit to do and I bet your friend is looking for you."

I've had my fair share of one-night stands where I left almost immediately but none as callous as being kicked out of the room less than a minute after the deed was done. But I knew better than to question him and just left but not before he said he'd get my number so we could meet up for round two.

Mabel wasn't too far from the room we were in, making out with a man I had never seen before. His hands explored her body like Scrim had explored mine just minutes before.

"Penny!" She pulled away from the man. "This is...is....um...."

She didn't find his name before I pulled her away. I didn't want to be at the party anymore.