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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.”
