“Your father?” I ask, knowing that has to be the “anyone” he’s referring to. Jonathan Hale took away Lo’s trust fund, his inheritance, and everything that financially secured Lo’s future. All because Lo won’t return to college and live up to his impossible standards.
“Yeah. Him,” Lo mutters. “He’s my therapist’s favorite topic.”
Maybe I can ease into this… “Are you going to talk to Jonathan when you get back?”
“I don’t know anymore…” He pauses. “He’s one of my triggers to drink, but I didn’t need rehab to figure that out.”
My chest constricts. “Am I…” What ifI’ma trigger. Oh God.
“No, Lil,” he tells me with a short laugh. “You’re the opposite. You’re my stability…my home.”
I inhale, his words pricking my eyes a little. He’s always felt like home to me too. I clear my throat, not wanting to become all sappy over the phone. I only have so long to hear his voice. And then I’ll be alone again. “When you get back, what are you going to do?” He won’t go to college, and he’ll need to earn money now. Ryke and I both offered to help with his finances, but Lo’s pride squashed the idea.
“I’m not sure. I’ll worry about it later,” Lo says softly. I wish I could hold him or hug him. Anything. He sounds a little lost, but what twenty-something isn’t? The only difference between Lo and me at this point is that I’m still in college. But we’re in the same place really. I’m no closer to knowing what I want to do with the rest of my life. I wish my future bachelor’s degree could magically choose a career path that’s perfect for me. If four years of college bought methat, I’d be sold.
“Can we steer the conversation away from me now?” Lo asks. “How have you been holding up?”
“I’m a little frustrated,” I mutter. “Sexuallyandmentally.”
“Mentally?” he asks, worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeahyeahyeah,” I say quickly. “It’s just that the therapy sessions drain me. I want to know why I’m addicted to sex so badly. Dr. Banning says the answer might not be so clear. And I just worry that when I find it…I won’t like it.”
His breath grows heavy over the line, and his words come out as a whisper. “Do you think it’s me?”
It feels like a stab to the chest. I glance down at the Twizzler braid on my lap. “It’sme, Lo,” I choke. “I can’t blame anyone else for my problems. I just have to figure out how it started.”
“When we were nine, we did some things,” he says quietly. “Do you remember that?”
“Lots of little kids do stupid stuff,” I defend, thinking about what Dr. Banning told me. Experimenting, she called it.
“It was wrong,” he tells me with added confidence. I imagine him running a shaking hand through his light brown hair. His voice remains firm and determined. “I was older than you.”
“By nine months.” He’s being ridiculous.
“It doesn’t matter, Lil,” he snaps. “I’ve been thinking a lot in this place, and I want to tell you that I’m sorry. For everything that I’ve ever done to hurt you?—”
“You haven’t hurt me,” I interject. “You haven’t.”
“Lily,” he says, very softly. “You remember the night before we split up and I came here? The day before Christmas Eve?”
“The Charity Gala,” I say. The night where he broke his short sobriety by chugging mini-bottles of tequila from a hotel room.
“I hurt you,” he says. “I had sex with you so you’d stop focusing on my alcohol addiction…so you’d stop looking at me like I was unraveling. You were crying hysterically, and Ifuckedyou. And afterwards, I was a complete dick about it. What do you call that?”
“You didn’t…”rape me, I think, knowing that’s what’s plaguing his mind. He didn’t. “I wanted it, Lo. Please, don’t think that.” God, we’re so messed up. I listen for his reply, but I only hear silence. “Lo?”
“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Lil. For that night, for when we were nine. I’msosorry.”
“You don’t have to take all the blame. I was there too when we were younger, you know. I touched you. Maybe I fucked you up.”
He laughs now, and it makes me smile. “I can assure you that I’m fucked up, but it’s not because of you.”
“Likewise.” At least, I hope so.
He suddenly lets out a long groan. “God, I just want to kiss you.”
I grin. “Welcome to my world. I think I’ve imagined making out with you about five billion times since you’ve been gone.”
