Thrive (18 page)

{ 26 }

0 years : 07 months

(March)

LILY CALLOWAY

I underestimated the amount of people that watch
Princesses of Philly
. A couple teenagers
sip lattes and peek around a tall bookshelf, whispering as they spy on Lo and
me. It’s impossible to be invisible with Brett’s camera pointed at us.

I keep asking myself why we left the townhouse. My brows
crinkle. I don’t have an answer, so I turn to Lo who peruses the Sci-Fi/Fantasy
aisle in the local bookstore.

“Why did we leave the townhouse?” I ask

“Fresh air.” He pulls out a small trade paperback and scans
the summary. He mostly reads comics, but on occasion, he’ll branch out into
these genres. He devoured
Game of Thrones
before watching the television show. I told him that I finished the first
book, but really, I just skipped around and read Arya’s parts.

She’s the best.

Laughter emanates from one shelf behind us. My shoulders
curve forward, hoping that it’s not something I did. “The air was pretty fresh
back home.”

He gives me a look, one that says:
I don’t want you becoming a scared, little hermit.
His looks say
more than his words. That’s a fact.

I inhale strongly and try to follow Lo’s lead.
Just relax, Lily. Be casual.
I shake out
my arms and scan the row of books. Then I freeze, sensing beady eyes bore down
on me.

Slowly, I look up and spot someone with a mop of brown hair,
watching us from
above
a shelf. He
ducks quickly when our eyes meet.

Holy shit.

I can’t do this.

I can’t.

I grab Lo’s hand, my chest constricting in a paranoid,
freakazoid way. Swiftly, I drag him into the nearest bathroom, ignoring the
fact that Brett trails us. I shut the door on the cameraman before he enters.

He pounds on the door in protest.

“I’m peeing!” I shout.

His fist must fall because everything grows silent outside.

My eyes dance over the door like someone is going to intrude
any second. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper to Lo. I shiver, like eyes have
attached onto me. Like they can see me
in
here.

When I turn to Lo, his gaze softens for me. I prepare myself
for an epic pep talk. He holds my biceps. “You’re a sex addict and I’m an
alcoholic,” he says, “and the whole fucking world knows it. We have to get used
to people staring, love.”

He’s right of course. My mind seems to calm, but my body
doesn’t follow just yet. My legs feel gooey, and my shoulders shake a little,
on edge.

The words leave my lips before I can stop them, “Can I give
you a blow job?”

“No,” he deadpans.

I raise my hands. “You’re right. You’re
so
right. Blow jobs are so ‘89.”

“Let’s not go that far.” He smiles softly, and I don’t know
why, but tears prick my eyes. I’m such a sap. And there goes that smile, fading
away. “Lil…”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I shouldn’t have asked. Can we do
take-backs?”

“Sure,” he says. “And how about we wait in here for a while,
see if we piss off Brett enough that he’ll ditch us for Ryke or Rose?”

“I like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “And maybe a virus will infect everyone, turning them
into zombies, and when we leave the bathroom, the bookstore will be completely
deserted.”

“Nice,” he says, “but I’d rather not be inserted into the
plot of
28 Days Later
.”

Damn. He’s good.

“I love you,” I suddenly say. I mean it. Because who else
would stay in a bookstore bathroom with me, just to hide out for a little
while.

Definitely not Rose. Maybe Daisy. Ryke would rather die, I’m
sure. And Connor can never be added into any equation without hurting my head.

So that leaves Lo. Just Lo.

{ 27 }

0 years : 08 months

April

LILY CALLOWAY

“Did it hurt? Did you like it? Have you done it
again?” My questions pour forth like a broken dam. This isn’t the first time
I’ve asked Rose, but she never provides details, so I’ve waited until we could
talk alone. But we haven’t had much of a chance since the Alps vacation, a trip
planned by production. I thought I’d squeeze some conversations in on the plane
ride home, but she sat with Connor.

The biggest event of the trip, in my opinion, was Rose
losing her virginity.

Rose hisses at me, “Lower your voice.”

Okay, so we’re technically
not
alone. Production wanted another group segment, so we’ve
gathered everyone together for an evening of bowling. When Rose went to pick
her bowling ball, I followed her to the rack.

The others congregate behind our lane in the plastic swivel
chairs, out of earshot. But Savannah hovers beside the rack, pointing her
camera right at us. Even so, Scott has refused to air anything about Rose and
Connor sleeping together. At first I thought he didn’t want to come across like
the loser on television, but Rose said that they just want to perpetuate her
“virgin” label for marketing.

“Do you not want to talk to me about it?” I ask.

“It’s not that.” Her lips purse while she scans the colorful
bowling balls. “I just hate that Scott is taking advantage of a throwaway
comment I made in an interview about being repulsed by bowling.”

Germs. Rose grew out of the obsessive compulsive trait when
we were little, but the intensity of the cameras and lack of privacy has reignited
some of her old habits. She has a strict policy on hygiene, and sticking her
fingers in three holes that were once occupied by sweaty, unidentified hands
kind of breaks it.

“Daisy will probably roll the ball granny-style,” I say.
“Just copy her technique.”

She ponders this for a second, and her expression softens a
fraction. “Connor and I have had sex again.”

I grin, and I swear she tries so hard not to. “Was it
everything you thought it would be?” I ask.

“Better…different, but better.” She stares faraway, a smile
playing at her lips. I try to imprint the image. My sister—swooning. Her glow
flashes away all at once, replaced by ice. “Since when do
you
want to talk about sex?”

True. I’m usually tight-lipped and rosy red about the
subject. “I’m trying to be better about it,” I admit, “and shockingly, it’s
easier talking about someone else’s sex life.”

“Not shocking,” she refutes and squats like a lady to grab
the bowling ball on the middle rack. Her blouse shifts, and I notice a red bite
mark on her shoulder.

“Ohmygod,” I slur.

“What?” She straightens up quickly in alarm. “What is it?”

“He
bites
you,” I
whisper, my surprise filling my face. She immediately presses her hand to my
mouth, silencing me. I never pegged Connor to be rough. I thought he was the
sweet, gentle type. Like a friendly giant.

“Don’t be so overdramatic.” As though she’s never dramatic?
She pauses and then blurts out in curiosity, “Has Lo never bitten you?”

I frown and recall the times we’ve had sex. Uhh, there are
too many to remember the
exact
details
of each one, that’s for sure. He’s probably nipped my neck before.

She drops her hand so I can speak.

“It’s not the biting that I’m surprised by,” I whisper.
“It’s the
Connor
biting that weirds
me out.”

“Then don’t think about it,” she snaps. Good point. “In
fact, while I love this newfound confidence in talking about sex, I’m not sure
you should be thinking about it so much.”

She’s right. I need to relax.

“I’m just excited for you,” I tell her. “It’s like a
milestone in your relationship.” The orbiting nerd stars have finally collided.

Out of my peripheral, I spot Daisy slipping on her bowling
shoes while simultaneously sprinting across the carpet towards our lane.

“Babe, what the hell?” That comes from the guy behind her.
Twenty-three. Dark hair. Tanned skin. A model. And also her boyfriend. “Be
cool.”

She spins around and walks backwards with a lopsided smile.
“I’m totally cool.” The moment she steps onto the slick bowling surface, her
feet slide beneath her and she falls straight on her butt.

Ryke, slouched in a chair, turns his head to assess the
situation and then glances back at the lane. “How’s that ground, Calloway?”

“Hard,” she banters with a mischievous smile. “It’ll
probably leave a mark.”

“That’s usually what happens when your ass meets something
hard, sweetheart.”

Okay, this is sexual. I
know
for a fact because Julian looks ticked, glowering at the back of Ryke’s
head. Daisy picks herself off the ground, and Julian suddenly kisses her out of
nowhere, one roaming hand gripping her butt.

Uh. This is why I don’t like him.

Ryke and my boyfriend see their spontaneous make out
session, and they both end up glowering, mildly disgusted and definitely infuriated.

Everyone met Julian in the Alps, and things did not pan out
so nicely. Lo doesn’t like him. Ryke doesn’t like him. Even Connor, who can
find a morsel of decency in
anyone
,
claimed that Julian was nothing short of an ape.

“You gave a speech to the guys, right?” I ask Rose. She
places a teal ball back on the rack and heaves a bright pink one into her
hands, cringing at having to touch it.

“Yes,” she says, “I told them if they’re rude to Daisy’s
boyfriend that we’d have serious problems.” She lets out a harsh breath. “And
then Connor had the audacity to tell me that the same rule applies to me.”

I don’t mention that I agree with him.

Rose has bitched Julian out far more than Lo or Ryke. But my
little sister wants everyone to get along, and production wants her boyfriend
in the show for more drama, so we’re all going to put on a happy face.

For her.

And so we can have one sane day.

{ 28 }

0 years : 08 months

April

LOREN HALE

I struggle with the frayed shoe string, forcing me
to take an extra minute to tie them. Ryke sits beside me, his dark scowl
plastered to Julian, who continues to stick his tongue down Daisy’s throat only
ten feet behind us.

“I can’t be nice to him,” Ryke says, finally removing his
gaze off them. “I’m not fucking created that way.”

“By using the word ‘created’ you imply that someone else
made you into a barbarian,” Connor replies, almost absentmindedly as he types
our names into the computer. I smile, amused by him but my brother doesn’t take
the same route.

Ryke shakes his head. “I sincerely thought your personality
was the product of jerking off one too many times this past year.” He touches
his chest. “For fuck’s sake,
I’d
be a
dick if I didn’t get laid for twelve months. But obviously, being a prick is
just programmed into you.”

“You’re still not understanding,” Connor says casually,
“being a prick is a choice. The same way you being rude to Julian is a choice.
It’s not that hard to take responsibility for your actions.”

Ryke groans. “Just fucking shut up.”

“Hey,” I cut in and nod to Connor’s computer screen. “You
know we’re bowling, right? We’re not signing up for Model UN. You’re supposed
to make nicknames.”

Connor stares at the screen like I told him that he answered
a quiz question wrong.

Ryke almost laughs. “Cobalt, is this your first time
bowling?”

“In a public bowling alley, yes.” He begins to delete all of
our names. “All the bowling I’ve done has been at someone’s house.”

Ryke’s grin transforms into a glare. “Fucking prick,” he
mutters under his breath. Connor just smiles wider like he’s enjoying being
called one.

When I finally finish tying my shoes, I sit up and my elbow
knocks into Brett’s camera. “Can you give me some room?” I snap, on edge.

Connor and Ryke exchange a long look.
Yeah, I get it.
I haven’t been too kind to production this past
week. On the ride here, Brett wanted the passenger seat so he could film me
driving, and I told him that he either rides in the back or I’d throw him out
of the car halfway down the road.
 

All the nice sentiments I had towards the camera crew died
on the plane ride home three days ago. Scott played nasty in the Alps. He
fucked with Lily again, handing her a
Magic
Mike
DVD like it was an innocent gesture, but his actions had a clear
motive. It was the same as him shoving Maker’s Mark into my chest.

And then later, Lily and I caught Ben leaving
actual
porn in our room.

We didn’t tell anyone. Lily threw the magazines in the trash
on her own accord, overcoming a huge hurdle. And although Scott tried to make
her relapse, we both considered the trip a success. We skied down the slopes.
We laughed. We felt normal, even under the hot gaze of the camera lens.

I try not to let my frustration and anger towards Scott surface.
Not when he’s back at the townhouse, editing footage from the trip. Which is
fine by me. The less I see his goddamn face, the less I feel like ripping it
off.
 

“Enough,” Rose snaps, physically pushing her way between
Daisy and Julian, separating them. “I’m not rushing my sister off to the
hospital for oxygen deprivation, thank you.”

Daisy tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, shifting
out of Julian’s arms, embarrassed. She claps her hands, acting more
lighthearted than I think she truly is in this moment. “So who’s going first?”
She plops down on an empty chair.

“Why don’t we let Julian go first?” I say with a half-smile.
Just saying his full name out loud makes me grimace. He shouldn’t be allowed to
share it with my favorite X-Men: Julian Keller. It’s fucking sacrilege.

“Works for me,” Julian says, standing next to Daisy’s chair.
He motions for her to stand up so he can take the seat.

I’m pissed, but Ryke’s narrowed eyes flash hot,
unquestionably murderous.

In France, Julian blatantly admitted to us that he was only
with Daisy for the sex, but he’s waiting until she turns eighteen, legal. It
was both moral and despicable all at once.

Daisy reluctantly rises to her feet and then hesitates,
swaying on her heels as she realizes there aren’t any other open chairs left.

Julian ignores her as he speaks. “I hate to break it to all
of you, but I’m an amazing bowler.” Awesome.

Ryke clears his throat like he’s trying to swallow an
insult. “Excuse me,” he coughs into his hand. “I’m going to get something to
drink. Dais, you can take my chair.” He rises, and Daisy walks towards his open
seat.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

He nods stiffly, and she slumps down onto the chair.

“Make it a double,” I call out to him.

He gives me a sharp glare and the middle finger before
leaving, passing Lily and Rose as they approach our lane.

Rose places the bowling ball in the return machine and holds
out her hands like they’ve been infected with H1N1.

“Why didn’t you just buy a brand new ball?” Daisy asks as
she swivels in the chair. “You already bought new shoes.”

“She tried,” Lily answers for Rose. “None of them fit her
fingers.”

“This is just confirmation of what we already know,” I say,
“Rose is a witch. Witch fingers are supposedly very skinny.”

Rose rakes me with a long yellow-green-eyed glare. “I hope
you get athlete’s foot.”

Lily’s eyes widen. “Don’t curse him, Rose.”

I break out into a grin. There aren’t many times Lily sides
with me over her sister. She likes to stay neutral for the most part. Rose,
offended, turns on her sister, hands on her hips and her glare focused.

“I’m. Not. A. Witch,” Rose says slowly and distinctly.

Lily shakes her head and cringes. “Sorry. It slipped.” Funny
thing is, I think if Rose were really a witch, Lily would love her even more.

Rose still has her hands out like she’s trying not to infect
her clothes.

“Here, darling…” Connor swivels in his chair and squirts
some hand sanitizer on her palms.

“That only kills 99.99% of the germs, Richard. What about
the .01%?”

“It’s called an immune system, Rose.”

Her eyes flash angrily, and his grin overpowers all of his
other features. They start talking in French, the moment Lily plops onto my
lap.

I groan from the impact of her bottom, and she gasps. “I
didn’t hurt it, did I?” she whispers with fear flickering in her eyes.

God, I love her.

“My dick is fine,” I say and scoot her over just a little so
that the bony part of her bottom isn’t digging into my cock. “How’s your ass?”

She squints at me and then looks around, checking to see if
anyone pays attention to us. They’re all busy fixing their laces. Rose removes
the lid off a box, neatly folding the tissue paper after she picks out the
brand new pair of shoes.

When Lily realizes we’re in our own world, she rotates back
and cups her hands around my ear. “Are you making sexual innuendos for later?”

I rest my hand on her lower back, my thumb dipping below the
band of her jeans. She inhales sharply, but she leans away to examine my
expression, truly curious about my motives.

I motion for her with two fingers to come closer. Her lips
immediately part, dead-locked on those fingers.
Yes, Lily, I’m teasing you for later.

Sometimes I think I have to spell it out for her. I probably
should have when we were pretending to be in a relationship…that time feels
like ages ago.

She finally scoots closer, and my lips brush the soft skin
of her earlobe. Her breath hitches. “I’m going to slide deep into your ass
tonight, love.” Subtly, my other hand slips between her legs, her jeans of
course still there.

She almost trembles.

I would have never done this right when I returned from
rehab, too afraid she couldn’t handle it. Now I trust her a thousand times more.

“Lo…” she whispers. “Maybe…”

I wait for her to collect her thoughts.

“Maybe…we should do it both ways tonight,” she says,
watching my lips. She kisses me suddenly. I hold the back of her head,
deepening it before we pull apart.

“You’re that wet?” I whisper, forcing myself not to harden
at the thought.

She nods quickly. “Yes.” She squirms. “Or do you think it’s
too much to do both?”

“We’ll see.” I kiss her again, and then Ryke returns to our
lane, handing me a bottle of water. Daisy is about to stand up, offering him
the seat back, but Ryke waves her to stay there.

“Can we start this fucking game?” he asks.

Lily frowns, eyeing the alley. “Where are the bumpers?”

“We’re not playing with bumpers,” Rose tells her, squirting
more sanitizer on her palms, even though she just touched
brand new
bowling shoes.

“Bumpers are the best,” Daisy concurs. “You can throw the
ball really hard and try to ziz-zag it into the pins.”

“Yeah,” Lily agrees.

“Then you two go play on that lane.” Rose points to the
empty one beside us.

Lily springs to her feet. “Fine. We’ll be having more fun
anyway.”

Daisy hesitates for a second before rising, and then she
nudges her douchebag boyfriend’s leg, who’s texting. “Do you want to come?”

“What?”

“Bumpers or no bumpers,” she briefly explains.

“I’m not playing with the kid bumpers. They’re dumb.”

“Hey, they’re grownup bumpers,” Lily says, “for grownups who
don’t like gutter balls.”

Julian looks at Lily like she’s a complete idiot.

“Julius…” I start with what should be his
rightful
name, but I stop myself,
remembering our promise to Rose.
Be
civil.
Whatever. My lips close, but I grind my teeth harder than I like.

“It’s
Julian
,” he
says for the thousandth time to me.

“How about we team up against Rose and Connor?” I flash Rose
a look like
is that civil enough for you?

She nods in approval while Julian shrugs, seeming a bit
skeptical about the olive branch I’ve extended. It’s not a trick. Then he says,
“Sure, man.”

“Great.”

Lily kisses me quickly on the lips, and I pat her on the
bottom. When she leaves to her lane, her entire face is bright red, and she
tries hard to avoid the cameras.

Ryke watches my girlfriend depart with her sister, and I can
see his choice even before he takes a step in that direction. Julian being the
same age as Daisy is ten times worse than Ryke. I can’t even trust Julian for a
second. I have no reason to.

“I’ll be—” he starts.

“Whatever, go play on your bumpers,
bro
.” I can’t help but give him a hard time. It’s like a busted
function in my brain.

He rolls his eyes, wavers for a moment, and then follows
Daisy to the other lane.

Connor deletes some of the names, leaving just four. I laugh
when I notice he took my tip to heart. He’s nicknamed all of us after Greek
gods.

I scan the remaining list:

Zeus/Athena

Hades/Dionysus

Julian picks up a light blue ball from the carousel. “Who am
I?” he asks. “Zeus?” He’s not the brightest anything.

“You would be Hades. God of the underworld,” Connor says.

“All around fantastic guy,” I add dryly.

“Sweet.”

Jesus.

Ryke notices the screen from afar and glares at Connor.
“You’re a real douche, you know that?”

I don’t get it.

Rose puts her hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Oh please, Loren
would be Dionysus regardless if he drank or not.”

Ryke just keeps shaking his head until Daisy distracts him,
holding up two giant green bowling balls to her boobs.

I internally grimace.
Do
not think about that part of her anatomy.
“Who is Dionysus?” I ask.

Rose clarifies, “the god of wine, parties, and basically
hedonism.”

“He’s a man of chaos and pleasure,” Connor adds.

“Sounds about right,” I reply. “Thanks, love.”

He winks and motions for Julian to start us off.

Daisy’s boyfriend steps up to the alley with his ball in
hand, and my stomach constricts the longer I have to watch him. How do you
withstand a guy you just don’t like? He knocks down all the pins but two and
then pumps his arm.

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

We continue to play a few rounds, with Connor and Rose
clearly in the lead. Connor forgot to mention that his
boarding school
had a bowling alley, and they’d bet on games with
money and favors. So basically, he hustled us.

I don’t mind at all. The more we lose, the more Julian’s
competitive nature rises—glaring, huffing, a poor sport all around. Whenever I
look to the other lane, Lily and Daisy are in fits of giggles, sitting on their
knees and trying to spin the bowling ball before rolling it down the alley.

Daisy even covers Ryke’s eyes so he has to bowl blind. He’s
actually grinning. My gaze shifts to Lily. She practices her bowling stance by
the swivel chairs and every time she goes to mock throw, the weight of the ball
causes her to careen unsteadily on her feet. Her brown hair hangs in her eyes
and she brushes it away before trying again.

I love her.

The world seems empty whenever I watch her. It’s a peaceful
existence. But I know a life with just the two of us, alone, is a future better
as a fantasy. Friends. Family. They’re not easy to leave behind anymore.

Laughter beside her lane breaks my focus. Ryke lifts Daisy
by the legs, hanging her upside down, and she can’t catch her breath, her
laughs echoing through the bowling alley.

“Hey!” Julian shouts. Shit. He storms over to my older
brother. “I’m sick of you always hanging around my girlfriend, man.”

Ryke only drops one palm, holding Daisy perfectly upside
down with one hand, clutching her calf. She swings in the air, blood rushing to
her head, but her smile is huge.