Addicted for Now (31 page)

Is this national news? How is this a national issue? What
the hell is going on?

I don’t hear Lo call my name again. I turn up the
television, and I’m shaking so badly that I have to hold the remote with both
hands.

The news anchor is a petite blonde woman with bright red
lipstick. “We just confirmed from a source that Lily Calloway, daughter of the
founder of Fizzle, is a sex addict. As well as the fifty plus known men she’s
slept with, she’s also been known to hire male prostitutes.”

My throat closes up, but I manage to barely breathe a word.
One word. “Lo.”

He doesn’t come to me, and I can’t tear my eyes from the
television.

“Lily, what’s going on?” Daisy asks, her voice tight.

Daisy, my parents
—Oh
my God, my father? His company…the guilt plows through me. They’re watching
this. Everyone is watching this.

Melissa stirs from her corner, tugging her earbuds out and eyeing
the screen. Oxygen refuses me. I shake my head again and again like this is a
dream. I want to wake up. This can’t be real. But the words on the TV run
through my head over and over and over.
Sex
addict. Sex addict. Sex addict.

This can’t be happening.

How much shame have I brought to my family?

“Lo,” I say a little louder, fixated on the TV as tears
begin to scald my cheeks. “Lo!” I cry, terrified about what this means, as I
process just how badly this is going to hurt everyone.

My phone buzzes beside me and the first text sends a knife
in my gut.

Whore
– Unknown.

It begins to explode in a rapid-fire wave of inflammatory
messages. My eyes burn, and I choke on either a breath or a sob. “Lo!”
 

“I’m right here, Lil.” How long has he been on the couch? He
turns me so that I face him, no longer absorbed by the newsfeed.

His hands touch my face, and he tries to wipe away the tears
but I can’t stop crying. My chest constricts, and I sob into my palms. He draws
me to his chest.

“You’re okay,” he says, rocking me a little, but there’s
pain in his voice.

The plane feels too small. I don’t have enough air or space
or lungs to battle this kind of affliction. I have ruined my family. It’s all I
can think. It’s all I feel. I have spent years keeping my addiction a secret so
that they wouldn’t bear the humiliation and disgrace. Their daughter is
disgusting. I’m disgusting…

My mother…how will she look at me after this? How will
Daisy?

“Lo, it hurts.” I try to take full breaths, but they’re
sporadic and filled with so much desperation. I just want it to end. I want to
fly the plane back and start over. We were headed home in triumph. We defeated
Spring Break without giving into our vices.

Tonight was supposed to be about Lo and me together. And
now…this…

I want to disintegrate, to flutter away and never wake up
again.

“You’re okay,” Lo says, pulling me onto his lap. His arm
swoops around my waist as he holds me tight to his chest. I can’t look anywhere
but at my hands. They seem so empty all of a sudden. And then he grabs them and
squeezes tight. “I have you.”

But I am falling so quickly.

I am drowning, Lo.

I don’t think I want to come up for air this time.

I’m not sure I can.

“We have a former captain of the Penn soccer team, Mason Nix,
here to give a statement about Lily Calloway.”

This can’t be happening.

“Turn it off!” Lo yells.

But as Lo and Ryke struggle to find the remote that is lost
in the depths of the cushions, I hear the past bleed into my ears.

“I slept with her when she was eighteen. My entire team did.
She wasn’t just willing—she wanted it.” This is his payback. Was he the leak?
We still don’t know. This one statement could just be revenge for being thrown
over the hood of my car.

I can barely move. A single tear slides along Lo’s cheek. He
wipes it quickly as he catches me watching. “Hey,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Lil.”

But my tears brim and burn. “You can’t be sad if it’s true,”
I whisper back.

He stays strong and reaches out to touch my cheek. He kisses
my lips, but I don’t feel the power in them that I usually do. My heart does
not flutter. I am just sinking.

“And was she dating Loren Hale at the time, the heir of Hale
Co.?” the news anchor asks.

“Lily, come on, love,” Lo pleads, kissing me stronger. “I’m
right here.”

“Yeah,” Mason says. “She’s cheated on him this whole time.”
The news anchor wears a look like
what a
poor bastard. I feel so sorry for him.

I turn my head from Lo, crying, my lips separating from his
as I bury my head into my knees.

“Lily.” His voice breaks.

What have I done? I didn’t realize that my addiction would
hurt him if it became public. He’s now the sad sap who was fucked over by the
slut. By me. How do I make this right? There’s no way to change this. How do I
erase years and years of mistakes?

I want to go back in time. I want to tell myself that I
don’t need to sleep around to satisfy this emptiness in me. That the guy I love
is right there in front of my eyes. That he can be more than a friend. That I
don’t need anyone else in the whole universe but Loren Hale.

And if I had just done that, everything would have turned
out right.

I would not be sitting here listening to my past mistakes. I
would have spent four years with Lo like I’m doing right now. Committed.
Fulfilled.

Happy.

My voice is stolen, and the words stay in the back of my
throat. But I manage to say something.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, muffled into my knees and
incoherent with my sobs.
I’m so fucking
sorry, Lo.

He rubs my back. “Lil, it’s okay.”

It’s not okay.

Someone finds the remote because the voices silence. My
phone vibrates manically on the floor, and I cover my ears with my arms now, a
ball that cannot be unfurled. The noise pierces me, each rumble is another
slut
or
whore
that I have yet to read.

I truly want to disappear. I want my superpowers to kick in,
right now. I want to never, ever exist again. I want Lo to live in a world
where I don’t hurt him.
Please, someone,
make that come true.

Lo untangles me a little. He kisses my forehead and tries to
let me cling back to him and not my bony legs. I slowly crawl onto his lap and
press my cheek to his chest, listening to his unsteady heartbeat. I remain
hidden, not vacating the safety of Lo’s shirt and avoiding the look of hurt and
betrayal on Daisy’s face that I am sure exists tenfold.

I should have just
told her on the beach.

And I don’t know what propels me to do it—maybe thinking
that one simple thing, maybe feeling the regret—but I pop my head from my
burrow. “Daisy?” I look around and find her standing by her chair.

She is crying.

And I’m not sure if it’s because I am or because she’s mad
at me.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I meant to tell you.”

“It’s true?” she asks, wiping her face quickly like Lo had,
not wanting me to see. It’s as though they can’t cry because I am. I hate that.
It makes no sense, and it drives me to dam my waterworks sooner rather than later.

“I’m…” I can’t say it.
Why
can’t I just say it? My sister deserves more than me weeping and hiding away. I
wipe my nose with the back of my arm and sit up straight. I slide from Lo’s
lap, but he intertwines my fingers with his. It helps. It makes me not want to
drown so much.

“It’s okay,” Daisy says what Lo has been repeating. She rubs
all of her tears. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain.” Daisy hates to see
people upset. I forgot that about her. She just wants everyone to be happy.

But all the pain that it’s going to take to admit this to my
sister—I need to feel it. Telling Rose was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,
but this is worse. Because I told Rose on my own accord, but in this instance,
someone has played my hand, forcing me into it.

There is no compassion in telling her my secret. It’s
just…necessary.

Very softly, I say, “I’m a sex addict.”

Her tears have dried up. And she nods. My strong, fearless
sister. “And Mom…does she know?”

I shake my head once.

“Dad?”

“No.”

Daisy glances at Ryke. “You knew.”

“It’s complicated.”

Daisy nods again, trying to understand, I think. Her eyes go
to Connor. “And you knew.”

“And Rose. That’s it,” Connor says.

Rose. My eyes flicker to the back cabin door where the bed
lies. I wish she was here. She’s like a prickly iron chair that will weather
any battle.

“But not Poppy?” Daisy asks me.

“Not Poppy,” I say, “and I only told Rose six months ago. I
would have told you sooner, but I was…am—I’m ashamed.” Tears build again.
“You’re my little sister. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” I am the fuck
up. The broken, pathetic one now. I can no longer dole out sisterly advice and
expect the same admiration in return. Everything will change.

Her dark eyebrows bunch together, such an ugly expression
for someone so beautiful. “You’re still the same person, Lily. I just…I have to
get my head around this.” Her eyes flicker to Lo. “How long have you known?”

We meet each other’s gaze. How long has he known? How long
have I known? Setting a date seems like trying to pin down when a growth spurt
begins and ends. Immeasurable time.

Thinking about it reminds me of all the moments we’ve
shared. From childhood to adolescence to adulthood. We have lived together,
loved together, and fucked up together. I’m not sure many people can truly say
that about someone else.

His eyes soften and he turns to Daisy. “Awhile.”

Awhile
. That seems
right.

Daisy opens her mouth to ask another question, but a Bob
Dylan song starts playing from her pocket. She pulls out her phone the same
time something vibrates near my leg. Lo fishes out his own cell.

A chime and another vibration go off and both Connor and
Ryke look at theirs. We must have hit an area in the sky with good cell
reception. Who knows how long people have been calling?

“It’s Mom,” Daisy says.

“My therapist,” Lo tells me.

“My mom,” Ryke adds.

We all look to Connor. His eyes flit up to Lo’s. “The
private investigator. I have to take this.” He retreats to the back cabin where
Rose sleeps. We still don’t know who leaked the information, but maybe we will
now—not that it matters. What’s done is done.

Daisy’s phone keeps playing “Shelter from the Storm” and
everyone sits on edge the longer they ignore their calls.

“Go talk to them,” I say.

Daisy sniffs and stares at her phone. “I just like this
song.”

Ryke puts a hand on her shoulder. “Rose should talk to your
parents first anyway.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay.” She clicks the green
button and puts the receiver to her ear. Daisy risks sitting by Melissa since
she’s secluded in the most private alcove of the whole plane. (Besides the
bathroom, that is.) Melissa stays frozen in her seat, uncomfortable and bit
stunned by everything.

“I have to go pee,” I mutter, about to stand up. I can
imagine the sheer horror on my father’s face. On my mother’s. I don’t think I
can ever confront them.

Lo grabs my wrist before I rise from the couch. “You shouldn’t
be alone right now.”

“I just have to pee,” I tell him again, tugging his hand off
me.

He gives me a look like
do
you really?

No, I don’t. I want to cry in solitude. I guess he knows this,
and I understand his fear that I’ll avoid my emotions with self-love like I’ve
done in the past.

It’s tempting.

I stay put and stuff my face into a pillow. The news replays
in my head again, and I’m on the verge of tears once more.

“Hey, Lily.” Ryke comes over and nudges my side. “I don’t
want to talk to my mom, so how about we play cards?” He glances to Lo. “And you
need to talk to your therapist.”

“I can stay here.”

Ryke gives him a firm look.

He sighs, resigning more easily than normal. I must have
drained him of energy. Lo rises and disappears to the bathroom.

“Lily? Cards?” He pulls out the deck from his pocket and
shuffles.

I lower my pillow, sensing his tactics to distract me. “What
kind of card game?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Go Fish.”

He looks like I’ve almost stabbed his soul.

“You said whatever I want,” I remind him, trying to wipe
silent tears that keep falling against my will. I need permanent tissues stuck
to my tear ducts. Like when you staunch a bloody nose. Would it work?

“That’s not even a two-person game,” Ryke tells me.

“But it’s still possible to play with two people.” I want
the distraction without having to bust my brain learning a new game.

“Fine,” he says, relenting when I sit on the floor since
there’s no coffee table. He deals the cards on the carpet, and I try not to
dampen them with my tears.

“We’re flying over Georgia right now,” I hear Daisy say. “We
shouldn’t be long.” Her voice shakes really badly. I don’t like that she’s
talking to our parents first.

Ryke’s concerned gaze flits between Daisy and his cards. “Do
you have a king?”

“Go Fish.”

“Lily’s taking a nap,” Daisy says.

Ryke picks up a card and then kicks my knee. “Your turn.”
Right.

“Do you have a…” I stare at my cards. “An eight?” I look at
the bathroom door, not hearing a peep from Lo. But he leaves the door cracked
so we know he’s not doing something rash, like chugging alcohol or…worse. My
chest hurts, like someone decided to stand on my diaphragm.

Ryke hands me his eight and grumbles under his breath about
how this is the stupidest fucking game. But he’s partially concentrated on my
sister in the corner.