“I know.”
I inhale a strained breath and turn the car down a couple more streets before parallel parking. I lean over to open the door, but Lo puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Can we talk for a second?”
I tense back into the seat. My eyes glue to the unlit dashboard. Is this my ultimate low? I thought the pregnancy scare was the most terrifying moment of my life, but waking up in bed with two guys I don’t remember—that will haunt me. How can I be missing days? As if sex and liquor stole them from me…maybe drugs participated in the thievery too. I can’t even remember.
I wish I was Lo. I don’t think that often, but right now, I envy his ability to be a “functioning” alcoholic, one that doesn’t get aggressive or physical or lose memories. He drinks all day and all night, only suffering the repercussions when he surpasses his tolerance and blacks out.
He keeps his narrowed gaze on me and lets out a heavy breath. “You remember when we first arrived at Penn and we both went to that freshman pajama party?” Ah, yes, the Pajama Jam. The blistering memory brings a heavy frown to both of us. “You found me blacked out on the floor in the morning.”
He censors the image. Where his cheek was covered with vomit. Where I lifted him in my arms and thought, for the most horrifying moment, that my best friend had finally succumbed to his greatest flaw.
Lo’s voice deepens. “All I can recall is waking up in the hospital, feeling like a fucking twenty-ton truck ran me over.”
“You just had your stomach pumped,” I remind him.
Lo nods. “I could hear you arguing with the nurse about calling my father. You insisted that she keep the matter private since I was eighteen.”
I had to pretend to be his sister just to enter his hospital room. So stupid. Everything. That whole night. Right now. But to rectify what’s been done, what we’ve solidified, is beyond my power. Part of me will always believe that we’re past change. Maybe we’ve already accepted that this is how we’ll live and this is how we’ll come to die.
My eyes burn at the thought of the two guys in my bed. But I don’t want this to happen again. That, I do know.
“We made a deal after that, remember?” he continues, carefully choosing his words. “We said that if this is going to work—you and me, Lo and Lily doing whatever we want, being who we are—then I’d have to know my limits and never exceed them. I honestly never thought…I never thought it would be a problem for you too.” He runs a shaky hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “I didn’t know that sex addicts could have limits, Lily, but somewhere…somewhere you crossed a line. And you’re scaring the shit out of me. I haven’t been able to get ahold of you in days. When I pass out, you’re not home. When I wake up, you’re usually gone. This was the first time I’ve seen you, and…” He rubs his mouth and looks away.
My heart beats so fast. I don’t know what to do or say. Tension stretches between us, not the good kind, and it hurts to touch it.
His voice lowers while I press my palms to my hot tears. “I don’t have any right to tell you to stop. That’s not what I’m trying to say, but for this arrangement to work, you have to know your limit. This, hooking up with guys in motels, not answering my calls, and…” he stumbles on the words again, “fucking…two guys. That has to end. What if they hurt you?”
I close my eyes, the tears spilling out the creases. “I don’t remember them.”
“You were drunk,” he realizes, his features darkening. “What’s after this? Orgies? Sexual humiliation?”
“Stop.” I rub my eyes, cringing at the images.
“Where’s your head at?” he murmurs.
I can’t do this again. “I’ll stop, not the sex, but the motels, the unknown texts, Craigslist—”
“Craigslist?!” he yells. “What the fuck, Lily? You know who solicits for sex on those things? Child molesters and perverts, not to mention it’s fucking illegal.”
“I didn’t use it!” I shout back, my cheeks flaming. “I was just looking.”
He holds his hands out, takes a deep, meditative breath, and balls them into fists. “Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to me?”
I’ve never had a problem unburdening myself on Lo. It’s what we’re both good at, but turning to anonymous sex felt like a natural progression once our dynamic started to shift. “Things were changing,” I mutter so softly that I think he’s missed the words.