“Do you know who his half-brother is?” the anchor questions.
Ryke’s identity has not been confirmed. By anyone yet.
“Of course,” Melissa says. “He tells almost everyone that he’s related to Loren Hale. I think he likes being associated to money.”
Ryke rolls his eyes and sits on the armrest of the couch beside his brother.
Lo pats his back. “Nothing like a woman scorned, huh,big bro?”
“Fuck off,” Ryke says lightly.
Lo smiles, but it fades as soon as Melissa answers the news anchor’s whole question.
“His name is Ryke Meadows.”
“And there goes my anonymity,” Ryke mutters. He sighs and curses under his breath as Melissa discusses the apartment building, his affiliation to Penn and the track team… it’s a lot to digest.
“And there goes those morning runs around the block,” Lo adds.
Melissa divulges more secrets, like which coffee shops he frequents, the gyms he likes. Ryke groans his hand.
Lo’s voice softens. “You really pissed this girl off.”
“I didn’t mean to. Honestly.”
Melissa stares straight into the camera, delivering her next lie. “Lily Calloway liked to do it a lot, butespeciallywith both of them.” She pauses. “Together.”
None of us move, not at all expectingthat.
“Fucking fantastic,” Ryke breathes.
I can handle guys lying about sleeping with me. I can handle comedy skits about my sex addiction. I can handle theslutsandwhoresthat are blasted my way. But having someone else—someone who has only helped me—being dragged into these lies, well, that sets me off.
I storm towards the door, not even caring that my hair is unwashed, that my clothes are wrinkled from all the lounging around, and that I look one second from joining the trash in a garbage can. I’m a girl with a fucking mission.
“Whoa!” Lo wraps his arms around my waist before I reach the door. “Where are you going, love?”
“To the street. I need to set things straight.” They cannot think I’ve slept with Ryke. They cannot think I’ve had sex with Lo and his brother. That is beyond wrong.
Ryke stares at me from the couch. “So your first fucking statement is going to beMelissa is a big fat fucking liar?”
“You can’t point fingers,” Lo clarifies.
“I can’t just be quiet,” I say. “This is getting bad.”
“You have to talk to your parents first,” Lo reminds me. “They have money. They have lawyers.”
But for every second that Melissa’s lie is accepted as truth is another moment where Ryke and Lo suffer because of me.
Ryke gives me an annoyed look. “You honestly think I care what people say about me?” No, he wouldn’t, but I still feel horrible. “I’m more pissed that she’s told the press where I rock climb.”
I picture lenses swarming him as he grips a mountain with his fingers, and the cameras distract him as they flash repeatedly, so much so that he tumbles to his death. I wince. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apologies, Lily,” Ryke refutes. “I only want one thing.”
“What?”
“When your parents tell you to go to rehab, what do you say?”
