I freeze and reread the text four more times.Open the gates.As in the gated house I’m supposed to be at right now—the one Rose bought in a secluded little town. Can I pretend that I didn’t read it?
Lily, I know you’re there.
What? How?!
I won’t fuck you. Just let me in. I’m supposed to be in Time Square right now.
My fingers hover over the button. If I refuse to answer, I can act like I never received the texts. Simple. And then I can just lie tomorrow about losing my phone. It’d be better than dealing with Ryke now.
We both have iPhones. I can tell when you’ve read my texts, so stop ignoring me and open the fucking gates.
Uhh…
My phone rings, and I jump. RYKE MEADOWS fills the screen.
I’m in trouble. We haven’t established a talking-on-the-phone type of relationship yet. As of late, we’re strictly text-only. Even if he is Lo’s half-brother, he hasjustentered our lives. And while Lo may forgive all of Ryke’s past transgressions—like spending seven years with the knowledge of his little brother’s whereabouts and not doing anything about it (like saying ‘hi’ at least)—I have kept Ryke at a lengthy distance. It has nothing to do with his boy-parts and sex butmore to do with his annoying qualities. Like inserting himself into other people’s business. Like being an alpha male when the situation does not call for one.
My finger continues to float above the big green button, and I make a rash decision and bolt for the patio to avoid music and loud chatter. Even outside, the wild streets make up for the lack of pumping bass as people gather down below for tonight’s festivities. My phone vibrates angrily in my hand. Quickly, I press the speaker to my ear and wait for Ryke to speak first. I’m so not about to initiatethisconversation.
“Open the fucking gate,” he snaps.
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? Get your ass off your bed and come down here.” I hear him jiggle the iron entry, as though trying to physically open it by pure brute force.
“Are you trying to break in?”
“I’m considering it.” He sighs, agitated. “It’s been seven days since he left, notfivefucking years. You’re acting pathetic.”
I purse my lips.Thisis why I dislike him. His blunt honesty is so rude sometimes. Ryke takes the meaning “tough love” to a whole new level. “I realize that. And I’ll have you know, I changed out of sweats on day four, and on day five, I washed my hair.” I am notpathetic.I’m trying to live without my best friend. It’s hard. My whole reason for waking up in the morning and putting on a smile was taken from me.
“Congratulations. Now open the gate.”
And then, my luck goes in the crapper. “HAPPY NEW YEAR MOTHERFUCKERS!” a guy screams five stories below. I am one-hundred percent positive that Ryke heard the drunken exclamation through the receiver.
“Before you say anything,” I speak rapidly, feeling the heated fury brew from Ryke through the phone. “Daisybeggedme to come to this house party. She gave me these big green doe eyes. You have not been inflicted by Daisy’s doe eyes, so you can’t judge. And then I thought—hey it can’t be that big of a deal. She’s fifteen. It has to be some small girly slumber partyin the city. Nothing to fret about.” I moronically point at my chest even though he’s nowhere near me. “It’s not my fault that my little sister has friends twice her age. I didn’t even know she drank outside of our family until tonight! Sothisis not my fault. You hear me, Ryke? Not. My. Fault.” I finish my rant with a heavy breath.
After a short pause, all he says is, “Where the fuck are you?”
“I’ll probably head home after the ball drops.” I dodge the answer in case he intends to find me.
“Do you trust yourself?”
I go quiet and glance at a well-built model who leans over the railing to grab the attention of a girl on the street.
He’s shirtless.
And hot. But I guess that’s self-explanatory considering his job.
Do I trust myself?Not completely.But I can’t stay reclusive forever and wallow in my sheets like a dying hyena. I have to be brave. I have to tryto be normal. Even if my mind screamsno.
Ryke takes my silence as an answer. “If you can’t even say yes, then you shouldn’t be at any parties. Find Daisy and stay with her until I get there.”
What? No, no, no.“You don’t need to babysit me, Ryke.”
He exhales loudly. “Look, I promised Lo that I’d make sure you didn’t jump off a fucking cliff when he left. If helping you helps him, then I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll see you.” He hangs up and I realize I never told him the address of the apartment. Maybe he’s bluffing and trying to instill fear so I’ll avoid doing something rash and stupid. Like hooking up with a male model. Like kissing a random guy. I’m frightened by the place in my mind that saysgo—the trigger that forgets about the love of my life for a brief, horrifying moment. And then when it’s over, I’ll be filled with shame and disgust so deep that I won’t know how to crawl back out.
I breathe in and shake off my trembling hands. I shuffle into the apartment and spot Daisy by the silver refrigeratorwith a dizzying array of letter magnets attached. Someone spelledcum with me.Clever.
