And these should clear up my stance on the matter. Tweet 1: This is the official Twitter account of Lily Calloway. Hooray!
I had to announce myself.
Tweet 2: #Raisy is my favorite OTP. I ship it.
Tweet 3: Ryke & Daisy are cuter than cute right now. #Raisy is alive.
I will make this trend. No more stupid “Raisy is dead” anymore.
“I know I didn’t pass it by the publicist,” I say, “but it really can only help.”
Connor and Rose suddenly go quiet and very still. They exchange a few words in French to each other, and she delicately passes him his phone back.
I frown. “What?”
They’re holding hands now. Like a united force.
My heart thuds.
Connor actually removes his sunglasses, his blue eyes very calm. It makes me less nervous. “Lily,” he says, “it sort of seems like you’re trying too hard. Does that make sense?”
“She understands,” Rose tells him. “You don’t have to talk down to her.”
I don’t understand though. “I’m just expressing myself.”
“You need to tweet more then,” he tells me. “Because the way this comes across—it makes it look like you’re trying to cover up something.”
I shake my head fiercely. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know, and other people will believe you.”
“Okay good.” I swallow a lump that’s risen. Where’s Lo?
Daisy is laughing, full-bellied laughs that pulls my attention over to her. Ryke has a brooding expression, but his lips curve upward too.
In two seconds flat, Ryke purposefully shoves Daisy’s shoulder. With force.
She plummets off the side of the boat, a larger laugh echoing. It looked mean, not nice or friendly, but I’m sure my wild, daring sister loved it.
“Ryke!” A strict voice booms across the stern. My father—with his salt-and-pepper hair, pressed khakis and polo shirt—storms over to this side of the boat. He looks ready to throw Ryke overboard.
Connor and Rose straighten, on alert.
My nerves swarm my belly, and I glance over my shoulder, waiting for Lo to appear. He’s nowhere in sight though.
“You can’t just push my daughter off the boat!” my father yells.
Ryke stands, but he’s still outside the railing. His muscles are all strained, and his jaw locks, which isn’t the only sign that he’s frustrated and angry. It’s all over his face. “No offense, but everything I fucking do annoys you.”
“Then maybe you should change that,” my dad retorts.
Ryke instinctively shakes his head.
“No?” my dad says with distaste. Their voices are much louder than Ryke’s previous conversation with Daisy. I can hear most everything.
“Look, can we just fucking start over?” Ryke asks. “I’m trying—”
“The most you’ve done is bring my daughter back from Costa Rica with a broken arm and then write a profanity on her cast. And no, we are not starting over. I’m not going to forget how you lied to me about your relationship with her or about living together. I can, however, weigh that against your actions now. Do you understand?”
Ryke restrains himself from rolling his eyes.
Even though I’ve been distancing myself from him, I can still cheer him on. Internally I’m holding up a Team Ryke sign. You’re doing great, Ryke. This really is hard for him. He’s so unchanging, unbending. Unlike Connor who’s able to conform to any situation with fluidity.
Ryke takes a controlled breath, and he glances over the boat, checking on Daisy, before he looks back at my father. “I fucking realize that I’m the reason she broke her arm. I take full responsibility for that, but it was also an accident. She’s been in a lot of those that don’t even involve me.”
In Costa Rica, Ryke dared Daisy to jump off the top of a waterfall. After he did it. Halfway up her climb to the top, she slipped on the wet rock and landed badly on her arm. Apparently Ryke didn’t even know she broke a bone. He said that he was about to go after her, but then she jumped off the bottom ledge, into the lagoon.
When she swam up to him, he figured it out. And I could tell—just by his recount of the story—that he blamed himself. He said that if he was spotting her, she wouldn’t have broken a thing.
On the yacht, I don’t hear my dad’s response. A splash sounds in the pool, the water spraying my already damp hair. I spin around and see a figure swimming underneath the water towards me.