I think he’s right, but we both also know it’s not the moral path—the one that good friends take. Being sober isn’t our only challenge. Becoming human, functioning people in this big vast world means making friendships and sustaining the very few that we already have.
There is no college course to “be a better friend” or “be a less shitty human being.” Or else I would be signed up for both.
We’re selfish, in every sense of the word.
I just don’t want to fracture our friendships because of it.
{ 14 }
LILY CALLOWAY
The hardest part about being in a committed relationship with Lo isn’t losing the sex with strangers. It’s losing that moment where I become someone else. Where the shy, insecure Lily turns into a confident vixen. Where I’m completely and utterly in control and as my conquest looks at me with a heavy-lidded gaze, he knows it too. I was someone else during those moments. Someone better maybe.
The longer I’m monogamous, the more I forget what being that confident, brazen Lily feels like. It’s like parting with a best friend for so long that their face becomes a blurry haze. I don’t miss her enough to cheat on Lo. I just wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
But I know who I never wanted to meet.
Sadie.
Connor’s evil, orange tabby cat glares at me from across his apartment living room. All those grumpy kitties on Tumblr are not just photoshopped. Sadie is proof that felines can contort their face with such hot-tempered malice.
Lo and I sit on Connor’s dark green leather sofa, his apartment decorated like a bachelor pad. Instead of red Solo cups lined on the bar, he has an array of expensive liquors locked away in a glass cabinet. Lo glanced at them once or twice, and Connor ushered us to a seat where our back is turned to the alcohol. That pissed Lo off a little. He doesn’t want to be babied.
Afternoon light streams through windows that fill the entire back wall and the adjacent one. From floor to ceiling, Connor has a perfect view of Philly’s old brick architecture. Like most expensive bachelor pads, Connor has art décor that makes very little sense to me.
There’s just a porcelain ball stationed where a chair should be. I can’t tell if it’s an empty flower pot or a vase. There’s no hole for lilies—okay that came out wrong. But really, it seems silly to have a ball thing just taking up space. I guess that’s why they call it nonfunctional art.
The floors are concrete, but in the living area, he has a nice cream rug that Sadie apparently loves. Because she has yet to step off it. She struts in front of the couch, back and forth, her white tail wagging mischievously.
I have my eye on you, I say with a narrowed gaze.
Despite feeling violated by Sadie, I am relatively hopeful today. I want everything resolved with this blackmailer, evil-texter, or whatever the hell he is. I want to move on and focus on getting healthy.
The bell rings, and Connor opens the door. “You’re late,” he says flatly, in a Connor Cobalt, I dislike you tone that very rarely presents itself.
Ryke’s jaw hardens. “I’m the captain of the track team,” he says. “I can’t leave practice first.”
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to do anything first,” Connor retorts.
Lo and I exchange hesitation. Something tells me that Connor is not Ryke Meadows’ number one fan. And normally, I’d be suspicious that maybe Connor knows Ryke is behind all of this—that Lo’s brother is the one we should be wary of. But their little heated looks began around the time Ryke dissed Connor in public. It wasn’t one sole event. It was many things. Like Ryke calling Connor an ass kisser in front of his track buddies. Ryke can say those things in private, in front of us, and Connor just shrugs, but hurting his reputation in public crossed a line.
Ryke looks about ready to push through the doorway.
But Connor leads him in before Lo’s brother becomes physical. Connor sits on a buttoned leatherette chair across from us, but Ryke plops right next to Lo on the couch. And I’m reminded that my sister isn’t here to be on my team. Her schedule is too hectic to make the drive to Philly, so unfortunately, I’ll have to carry on without her.
I didn’t realize how much I relied on her support until I felt that uncomfortable dread when she told me she couldn’t come.
Sadie circles the coffee table, but her harsh gaze never deters from me. “Connor,” I say, “I think your cat hates me.”
Connor picks her up in his arms. “She doesn’t hate you.”
Oh good. That’s one less enemy.