Divine: A Novel by Aven Jayce

Look at
that thing. A poke-stick like that must win ya a lot of ladies. Can I touch
it?”
    I have to stop reading or my laughter will
be heard clear across campus. Plus, I’ve got a feeling the father will join in
on the fun, and incest isn’t my thing. When I get back into it, I’ll have to
skip that section.
    I should continue writing myself, but
Dan’s bag catches my eye .
    Just
open it and stop being a wuss. And why didn’t you fuck him last night? You have
smutty dirty little slut thoughts all the time, but then you back down. What
happened to the caramel? Do I have to do everything for you? It’s time to
change, Div. Do something mind-blowing for once in your life. And for Christ’s
sake, get rid of that shit in your living room.
    Shut the fuck up Violet and leave me
alone.
    No.
Open the bag. It’s probably something boring and dry anyway, like books on
window gardening.
    I happen to...
    Div,
open the bag.
    Fine.
    I place the bag on my desk and pull the
string tie until the top falls open.
    “It’s Hayden Night’s Trilogy. A boxed
set. What the fuck?” I didn’t see this when we were at the bookstore, only
single books from that trilogy. Dan must have picked it up before I made it to
the section. Does he know what I write or who my competitors are, or is this
just a coincidence? Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have looked. I can’t read these;
it would be like owning a McDonald’s franchise and eating at Burger King, or
working at JC Penney and wearing the outfit you bought at Kmart to the annual
Christmas party.
    You
bitch. He has twenty erotic western books to read and all you have is this one
trilogy. Read it.
    It’s eight hundred pages... eight hundred
pages of Hayden Night’s sick and twisted words. How could Dan buy such trash?
    Seriously?
Stop being so stubborn and open the first book. You might learn something.
    No. No bloodbath books or rapes. I like
it when the couples fuck but not when I have nightmares from the other content,
and Hayden Night’s books are known to be the darkest of all dark. Dark’s okay,
but not pitch-black dark.
    Whited
sepulcher
    Stop calling me that.
    Stop
calling yourself that. Your books are just as nightmarish as Hayden’s.
    “Knock knock. You in there, Div?”
    Richard, my Chair. He never comes to my
office. I must have done something terribly wrong. Oh shit. Oh shit. I have to
hide. Where can I hide? I wonder if there’s a ledge outside my window? Or maybe
I can squeeze under my desk? I’m panicking. Why am I panicking?
    “Div? I saw your truck in the lot, but
heard from a student that you canceled class. You in there? You okay?”
    No. No, don’t come in.
    I’m frozen with Hayden’s book in my hand
and the erotic western on my desk. And if I move, he might hear me. I hold my
breath and slowly, gently, set the books in the bag. How am I going to explain
myself?
    Keys jingle, and the handle turns. I have
no choice but to hurry to the door as if I was on my way to open it.
    “Richard, how are you?”
    “That’s what I came to ask you. Feeling
okay? A student said you were sick, but your truck’s here, so...”
    This would never happen on a large campus
where I’d be able to blend in and eventually disappear. Here, on the other hand,
a moment after I sneeze someone from two buildings down calls to say ‘God bless
you.’
    “I’m having stomach issues, but I’m
hoping it’ll pass so I can teach my afternoon class. I don’t want to go home
just yet.”
    “I appreciate your dedication, Div, but it’s
okay to call in sick sometimes.”
    I nod and try to create a queasy,
stomach-churning expression on my face, but I probably just look constipated.
    “Everything else okay? Have you spoken
with Margaret or anyone else like we discussed?”
    “That was yesterday,” I sigh. The guy
needs to give me some time. “I’ve been busy, and Margaret’s impossible to have
a conversation with, I tried, it didn’t work out. I think it would be best if
we stay as