“You don’t understand,” I mutter. I led her here. Unknowingly, I brought her to this place in her life. If I never even existed, she would have received that love from her mother that she craved.
“Then tell me.”
“You don’t get it.”
“Loren—”
“She slept in my bed!” I shout, my eyes welling. They burn so badly. “I let her sleep in the same bed as me. Okay, this wasn’tDawson’s Creek. I never kicked her out after we hit puberty.”
Rose whispers to Connor, “I don’t understand the correlation.”
“Dawson and Joey stopped sleeping in the same bed together in the first episode. She said that he was old enough to get an erection.”
Rose looks back to me. “You didn’t have sex with her every night, did you?”
“No, but?—”
“You can’t compare your life to a television show.” The fact that Rose is defending me does not entirely help. I’m used to her tearing me down, not building me up. I keep waiting for someone to thrash me with their words, with their feelings. With hate. I deserve that pain. It’s my fucking fault.
“You don’t get it!” I’m on my feet somehow. “I could have stopped her. I should have walked her down that roadevery night. I should have donesomething.” Instead I gave her a bed to sleep in, a place to fill her vice.
“Loren,” Rose starts.
“Stop,” I say, placing my hands on my head, these thoughts swarming me in a tidal wave, the guilt so unbearable on my chest. “You should hate me,” I tell her. “I deserve that.” I nod. “I broke your sister.” My face contorts in pain, a hot tear escaping. I want to punch something. To go run until my heart stops, until the breath just leaves me cold and dry.
No one says a thing. They wait for me to collect my bearings.
My breathing slows, and I rub my face. When I drop my hands, I say softly, “I wish I could take it all back.” I want to reverse time. To walk Lily right out of my house, down the street and to her own bedroom door. I would tell her that it’s okay if her mother doesn’t love her because her sisters do. And she doesn’t need to avoid her house by being in mine—that she shouldn’t keep searching for love in sex because it will only leave her empty and miserable.
I should have told her all of these things, but I didn’t know any of them back then. And I was too goddamn drunk to care.
“It’s not your fault,” Rose says. “You were a kid. We all were.”
“And you have a shitty fucking father,” Ryke adds.
“And no mother,” Daisy says.
“And you were an alcoholic,” Connor concludes.
It’s like they’re my conscience, and yet, they’re only my friends. For the first time, I have them, and I feel tears build at the words that I never thought I’d hear.
It’s not your fault.Yeah, I’m getting there. I can believe it one day, I think.
I have weathered the most painful answer. I can manage any others now.
I look to Daisy.
“Next question.”
CHAPTER FORTY
LILY CALLOWAY
A full week has passed.And I haven’t left Ryke’s apartment. School is an afterthought, even though my last test is in a few days. I’ll just show up and pass and then be back to my reclusive state before finals begin. I have no intention of seeing my parents, and if Lo and Ryke would let me, I’d be a hermit for the rest of my life.
But Ryke is not the kind of person who coddles, and Lo refuses to enable me anymore. So they have awarded me a seven day “grace period.” Or what they like to call “the time it takes to get my shit together to face my parents.” It may have taken God seven days to create the world, but I think I may need more time to screw my head on right. I am not Christ-like. When I mentioned this to Lo, he told me I could have an extra sympathy day. I think he said that word on purpose—sympathy. I crinkled my nose and decided to take the seven days instead.
I’m on Day Seven. Judgment Day. The one where I’ll have to face my mom and dad.
