13. BACK THEN – October #2
“You want to be blunt with her,” Connor reminds Rose. He’s firmly on his wife’s side, not about to come to my defense, if I even need one.
“Willow,” Rose begins, “we all feel a semblance of responsibility for you, and while that may seem absurd since you’re seventeen and clearly a young adult, we’re still the people that’ll take care of you if something were to go horribly awry in Philly.”
I nod, hardly breathing.
Rose is about to swing a figurative axe.
I see the power simmer through her. “Therefore,” she says, “you have to think about us when you’re out late at night.
Alone. With too many fucking perverts that know your name when you have no idea who they are.
Not to mention, the rabid, foaming-at-the-repulsive-mouth paparazzi.
” Rose lets out a single breath, on a hot streak.
“We’re all you have here, and we’d break our backs for you.
Leave your phone on. Text. Call—whatever it takes. ”
The last three words ring in my head like a cliffhanger to a story about family and friendship and love. She’s asking me to embrace them entirely, even when I don’t fully know her beyond the media and the encouragements she’s given me in the past—but I’m not here to be a burden or a nuisance.
I’ve already screwed that up. Yet, I still feel myself retracting. Wanting to distance myself so I’ll never ever bother them again.
In the most tranquil voice, Connor says, “We also recognize your reluctance to integrate with the six of us.”
They have?
“When we go out,” he continues, “you decline our invites because you’re afraid to be a hassle, and you refuse to move in because you’re afraid to alter Lo’s life.”
I ruined that tonight. Before, I was a peaceful shadow. Now I’ve become trouble. Someone Lo probably wishes he could return.
I’m sorry, Lo.
Connor edges forward on the couch, as though reaching towards me with his calming eyes alone.
“You have affected Loren Hale.” It crushes me, tears welling, and before I apologize, he says, “You have brought your brother love , and with love comes an unbearable amount of worry that I used to believe made people weak.”
Rose is watching her husband, eyes cast proudly and affectionately on him, and I’m caught in Connor’s vortex of wisdom and reverence.
“Lo isn’t weak,” Connor tells me. “He’s just trying to figure out how to love a sister and protect a sister at the same time, all without hurting you with his imaginative vocabulary.”
Rose nods in agreement. “If someone knows how to slaughter with words, it’s Loren Hale.”
“And he’s afraid to slaughter you,” Connor finishes.
My lips part, and they wait for me to speak. “Maybe…maybe I should stay away.”
Rose gapes. “ No . That’s not what we’re trying to say.
We want you here. With us.” She nearly rises out of passion, but Connor tugs her down, seeing that I’m uncomfortable.
Rose continues on in a fiery rant, “You are family. We are family, and family fucks up and can be the biggest pains in the asses—but we’re also the very best when we’re together. Not apart.”
I want that.
I do.
It sounds beautiful, but I can’t fuck Lo up. He has a baby and a wife, and he’s a recovering addict. So is Lily.
I wipe my wet eyes beneath my glasses, and then I hear the front door swing open.
I go very still. Rose cranes her neck over her shoulder as Ryke Meadows storms into the house.
Not acknowledging us, he sets his focused eyes on the kitchen door, his features hard, jaw scruffy and dark brown hair messy.
Somehow he knows that his brother lies behind the kitchen door.
He heads straight for him.
Ryke vanishes inside, the better sibling to Loren Hale between the two of us.
I slump in my seat, and then Daisy enters the living room. “Hey, guys,” she greets with a bright smile that eviscerates the lingering tension.
I breathe easier.
Supermodel tall with brown hair, Daisy rounds the furniture to head towards me. I’m used to seeing Daisy with blonde hair on the reality show, and at one point afterwards, she dyed her hair an array of colors.
She told me that this is her natural color.
The brown hue makes her seem younger in a way.
Then again, in fashion ads, she looks Rose’s age, all made-up with dark lipstick, smoky eyes, and sultry clothes.
I’m not sure about the true facts or timeline, but Daisy quit modeling after she was thrown into the Paris riot a couple years ago (the one that started from an overly passionate rugby championship game).
Fans on Tumblr believe she quit modeling because of the thick scar that runs down her cheek to her jaw. I can’t be sure what’s fabricated and what’s real, but she did once mention that modeling wasn’t fun for her. It’d been her mom’s idea to approach agencies.
Dressed in a pair of Ryke’s track pants and a long-sleeved shirt that says wilder than the wind , Daisy sits on the armrest of the Queen Anne.
She mock gasps at me. “You’re in one piece. It’s a miracle.” I smile at her theatrics while she looks to the ceiling and says, “Thank you, God.”
Connor arches another brow. “No.” That’s all he says. No.
Daisy wags her brows at his brow. “Thank you, Connor, my savior. My one true love.”
“Don’t inflate his overinflated ego by comparing him to God,” Rose says, tightening her ponytail.
“I’m hardly moved,” Connor tells Rose. “She speaks falsehoods and lies. Her one true love is a barking dog.”
Daisy only smiles, knowing Connor is referring to Ryke Meadows.
Just now, the kitchen door swings open, and silence blankets the living room.
Lo is the first one out, more assuredness in his step, but I cower, unable to make eye contact. I stare at my backpack and listen to the two other footsteps that belong to Lily and Ryke.
Out of my peripheral, I notice how Connor and Rose stand up with the others. Only Daisy remains seated next to me on the armrest. I can practically feel every pair of eyes boring into me, and I’m too timid to meet a single one.
“It’s not like anyone died,” Lo says, attempting to make a joke. His tone is too razor-sharp for one. No one speaks. No one even breathes. It’s like the Grim Reaper plopped on the couch to watch us all, and we’re all overly aware of its presence.
The quiet tension is killer.
“Jesus Christ,” Lo says, “everyone, just calm down—and I shouldn’t be the one saying that. Stop role-reversaling me.”
“Reversaling isn’t a word,” Connor says, “and I’m always calm, darling.”
Ryke Meadows rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath while Lily bites her nails, catches herself, and stops.
“I’m sorry,” I suddenly and softly apologize to everyone while we’re all gathered. I stare at my feet but try hard to lift my gaze. “I fell asleep, Lo. I didn’t see how late it was…I’m really sorry. I’ll text where I am next time. I promise.”
Everyone is looking at me. My cheeks heat, and I only look up when Lo says, “It’s not okay, what happened, but it will be.
” He very briefly glances at his brother, and Ryke glances back with a nod like you’re doing fucking great, little brother —and I wonder how much of what he said belonged to Ryke Meadows first.
Lo can’t soften his features all that much, but he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Where were you?”
“The mall and then…Garrison Abbey’s house.”
Connor and Rose look more than perturbed. They’re not fans of Garrison, for very good reasons. I don’t risk reading anyone else’s expression but my brother’s.
Lo repeatedly rubs the back of his neck, and then he says, “Everyone, you all should leave while I talk to my sister alone.” Lo quickly adds, “I can handle it. Alright? Go .” He snaps at them and then shoos them away with two hands.
Rose combats, “We’ll stay quiet.” I think she must like to be in-the-know about everything.
Lo points at me. “Not your sister, Queen Rose. She’s mine.”
Surrendering, Rose huffs and then departs upstairs with Connor. Lily trots slowly and tentatively behind them. Lo looks regretful for shooing her away, but he stands by the decision, not calling her back to the living room.
Ryke waits for Daisy, and she nods to me like everything will be okay and then exits into the kitchen with her boyfriend.
Lo takes a seat on the couch, forearms on his thighs, and a moment passes before he collects his words.
“You’re just seventeen, and I get it.” He stares off like he’s imagining himself at that age.
I wonder who he was back then. What he was up to.
If he loved Lily all the same. “I get that you’re old enough to do everything I’m doing now. ”
I make a choice and set my backpack on the ground. He just told his support system to leave, and if he’s strong enough to do that, then maybe I can be strong enough to let go of a crutch.
One day, I want to feel safe and powerful without holding my backpack tight.
“I still can’t drink alcohol. I’m not twenty-one yet.”
Lo wears a bitter smile. “Trust me, from experience, you can still drink. It being illegal didn’t stop me.” He hangs his head for a second, then lifts his amber eyes to my brown. “Maybe I gave you the wrong impression.”
My lips downturn. “About what?”
“About Garrison, for one,” he says. “Christ, I never expected you two to be…” He cringes like it’s painful to think about.
“Friends?”
He tries to relax at that title. “Yeah, that. I know guys like him. I was like him—it’s why I’m nicer to Garrison than I am to most people—but that doesn’t mean I approve of you hanging out at his place on a Sunday night. Or any night. No sleepovers.” He pauses. “Can I make that rule?”
He’s my brother, not my dad, but I see that he’s just trying to protect me. “Yeah,” I nod. “I like that rule.” It means he cares.
Someone wants me home at a certain hour.
Someone wants me safe.
Lo hesitates and stares off again, his face a bit murderous, and I wonder if he’s thinking about Garrison. Regretting giving him a hand.