“It’s not because I’m into self-love again, I promise,” she tells me. “I’ve ruined everything for everyone, and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better anymore. I don’t have any good distractions like you. I don’t have any morning runs, and I’m not about to start a company. School ends in a week, and I just need something for myself.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to let you masturbate, it’s not working,” I snap. “It’s not going to happen, Lil.” I stand to my feet, the black case in my hands. I bought it for her birthday last year. She used to keep some of her toys in this worn Victoria’s Secret box. At the time, I thought it was a great present, now I’m ready to light it on fire.
When she finishes dressing, her eyes fall to the case in my hands. “What are you doing with that?”
“I’m throwing it away.”
Her head whips back and forth, and she tries to tug the case from me in desperation. “You said we could still use them,” she pleads. “Together, I mean. Not by myself. I won’t ever use them by myself.” It’s true, that I kept them, intending to use them on her when she was ready. But I don’tknow if she’ll ever be ready, and leaving them here for awhat ifisn’t worth the risk.
“They’re not staying.”
She tries to bring the case to her chest, but I hold it firm in my hand and shoot her a look. “We’re not five-years-old fighting over a fucking comic book,” I tell her. “If this was a bottle of Maker’s Mark, what would you want me to do?”
Her eyes widen at the comparison and she suddenly lets go.
“I’m sorry.” It sounds more like an impulse than something sincere.
“I don’t accept your apology.”
Her mouth drops, and I point between us. “Me and you,” I say. “We’re in a fight. And if you don’t start listening to me, we’re going to have serious problems, Lily. I’m holding up my end. I haven’t touched a drink. You have to start holding up yours.” Though I know it’s harder in a different way, but the porn and the masturbating shouldn’t be her big issues. It should be the actual sex.
She stares at me for a long moment, and I wonder what she actually heard from my speech. “We’re in a fight?” she asks, shock and hurt crossing her face.
I knew I shouldn’t have started with that.
“Yeah, how does it feel?” It doesn’t happen often.
She looks panic-stricken and I realize that the fear of losing me…of losingusis what really motivates her. She motions to the case. “Burn it. Do what you need to do.” She shoves it against my chest and tries to push me out the door. I force myself not to smile because the “tough love” is actually working. I’d rather not ruin it with a momentary grin.
“No masturbating,” I tell her again.
She nods wildly. “I know. None. Not at all. Scouts honor.” She holds up three fingers. I don’t believe her completely, but at least she’s come around from denying it.
Now I just have to bring her to the exam on time.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
LILY CALLOWAY
I don’t havetime to think about my fight with Lo, being caught by all three guys, or the fact that paparazzi sprung up like woken zombies as soon as I arrived on campus. Someone leaked my class schedule to the press, and I sprinted into the building to avoid them.
I’m going to fail the exam anyway, but Lo and Connor would never let me skip. I leave the guys in the lobby to wait, and I jog up the staircase to the second floor. My plan is to slip into the back of the auditorium before anyone can see me. I’ll take the test, turn it in, and leave. How hard can that be?
I swing the door open and stop cold at the top of the auditorium-style room. All three-hundred students are already nestled in their seats while TAs walk up the aisles to pass out the exams.
I’m late.
And there’s no open seat anywhere in sight. Oh wait…
I spot one in the middle aisle of the middle row. There’s not much room to squeeze past people, and I imagine disturbing everyone as I hop over thirty bodies to reach my seat. I don’t want to bethatperson. Everyone always gives the late-arrival dirty looks, and since I’ve been on the news for the past couple of weeks, I can’t imagine the looks being the normal kind of dirty. They’d be dirty with an extra pinch of malice.
My throat goes dry and my palms turn clammy. I’m about to sprint out and make up some lame excuse to Lo, but the professor notices my lingering presence.
“Miss Calloway,” he calls.
I freeze, and like a tsunami, all three-hundred bodies rotate to set their inquisitive gazes on me. If this is what being an actress feels like, I want no part of it.
“Come see me down here, please.” The professor motions for me.
