Addicted for Now (37 page)

“It helps me. I just needed one minute. That’s it…” Her
words trail as she slowly pulls on her underwear and bra. It’s hard not to
look. Her frame has always been small and wiry, something I’m attracted to. But
when she spins around to search for a pair of pants, I have a clear view of her
bare back. Her shoulder blades jut out and her ribs are almost visible by her
waist. She’s been losing weight again.

“Have you been forgetting to eat?” I ask. She used to do
that a lot. Sex occupied her mind more than necessary things—like bathing and
eating. If I didn’t force her to shower, she’d smell like sex for a whole week.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to get fat. I think she’d prefer to be curvier.
She just
literally
forgets.

She sidesteps to look at herself in the full-length mirror,
and her face slowly falls. “Oh…” She tries to squeeze that inch of fat she was
so proud she gained, but she can barely grab at the tight skin on her belly.
“Shit.”

She avoids my gaze as she zips up her jeans.

“It’s not because I’m into self-love again, I promise,” she
tells me. “I’ve ruined everything for everyone, and it’s the only thing that
makes me feel better anymore. I don’t have any good distractions like you. I
don’t have any morning runs, and I’m not about to start a company. School ends
in a week, and I just need something for myself.”

“If you’re trying to convince me to let you masturbate, it’s
not working,” I snap. “It’s not going to happen, Lil.” I stand to my feet, the
black case in my hands. I bought it for her birthday last year. She used to
keep all her toys in this worn Victoria’s Secret box. At the time, I thought it
was a great present, now I’m ready to light it on fire.

When she finishes dressing, her eyes fall to the case in my
hands. “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m throwing it away.”

Her head whips back and forth, and she tries to tug the case
from me in desperation. “You said we could still use them,” she pleads.
“Together, I mean. Not by myself. I won’t ever use them by myself.” It’s true,
that I kept them, intending to use them on her when she was ready. But I don’t
know if she’ll ever be ready, and leaving them here for a
what if
isn’t worth the risk.

“They’re not staying.”

She tries to bring the case to her chest, but I hold it firm
in my hand and shoot her a look. “We’re not five-years-old fighting over a
fucking comic book,” I tell her. “If this was a bottle of Maker’s Mark, what
would you want me to do?”

Her eyes widen at the comparison and she suddenly lets go.

“I’m sorry.” It sounds more like an impulse than something
sincere.

“I don’t accept your apology.”

Her mouth drops, and I point between us. “Me and you,” I
say. “We’re in a fight. And if you don’t start listening to me, we’re going to
have serious problems, Lily. I’m holding up my end. I haven’t touched a drink.
You have to start holding up yours.” Though I know it’s harder in a different
way, but the porn and the masturbating shouldn’t be her big issues. It should
be the actual sex.

She stares at me for a long moment, and I wonder what she
actually heard of my speech. “We’re in a fight?” she asks, shock and hurt
crossing her face.

I knew I shouldn’t have started with that.

“Yeah, how does it feel?” It doesn’t happen often.

She looks panic-stricken and I realize that the fear of
losing me…of losing
us
is what really
motivates her. She motions to the case. “Burn it. Do what you need to do.” She
shoves it against my chest and tries to push me out the door. I force myself
not to smile because the “tough love” is actually working. I’d rather not ruin
it with a momentary grin.

“No masturbating,” I tell her again.

She nods wildly. “I know. None. Not at all. Scouts honor.”
She holds up three fingers. I don’t believe her completely, but at least she’s
come around from denying it.

Now I just have to bring her to the exam on time.
 

{ 39 }

LILY CALLOWAY

I don’t have time to think about my fight with Lo,
being caught by all three guys, or the fact that paparazzi sprung up like woken
zombies as soon as I arrived on campus. Someone leaked my class schedule to the
press, and I sprinted into the building to avoid them.

I’m going to fail the exam anyway, but Lo and Connor would
never let me skip. I leave the guys in the lobby to wait, and I jog up the
staircase to the second floor. My plan is to slip into the back of the
auditorium before anyone can see me. I’ll take the test, turn it in, and leave.
How hard can that be?

I swing the door open and stop cold at the top of the
auditorium-style room. All three-hundred students are already nestled in their
seats while TAs walk up the aisles to pass out the exams.

I’m late.

And there’s no open seat anywhere in sight. Oh wait…

I spot one in the middle aisle of the middle row. There’s
not much room to squeeze past people, and I imagine disturbing everyone as I
hop over thirty bodies to reach my seat. I don’t want to be
that
person. Everyone always gives the
late-arrival dirty looks, and since I’ve been on the news for the past couple
of weeks, I can’t imagine the looks being the normal kind of dirty. They’d be
dirty with an extra pinch of malice.

My throat goes dry and my palms turn clammy. I’m about to
sprint out and make up some lame excuse to Lo, but the professor notices my lingering
presence.

“Miss Calloway,” he calls.

I freeze, and like a tsunami, all three-hundred bodies
rotate to set their inquisitive gazes on me. If this is what being an actress
feels like, I want no part of it.

“Come see me down here, please.” The professor motions for
me.

I suck in a shallow breath and descend the carpeted stairs,
trying to avoid all the eyes. Not even halfway there, some guy coughs into his
hand. On the second cough, I hear “whore.”

That’s original.

Two more steps and someone else calls me a skank, louder
this time. I glance towards the noise and I see a girl elbowing the guy in the
ribs.

Five more steps and the voices start to rise as people talk
to their friends.

“All right, settle down,” the professor tells them.

“Go back to Penn!” a guy yells. Voices escalate and cheer in
agreement.

“Better yet, go to Yale! I hear they like filth!” I don’t
know what that person has against Yale, but I try to keep my cool. I’m almost
to the bottom of the auditorium, and I silently curse myself for walking in on
the second floor.

“Shut up!” A girl’s voice pitches over the talking.
Huh…someone’s on my side? “We’re trying to take a test here!” Maybe not.

“Quiet!” the professor shouts, angrily now. “Everyone. The tests
are out, and that means the next person who speaks gets a zero.” The room
hushes instantly, and I finally reach my destination.

The professor is middle-aged and always wears a nice
button-down with slacks. He takes out a manila envelope from his briefcase and
hands it to me. My name is scribbled across the front.

“I’ve spoken to your other professors,” he says in a low
voice so only I can hear, “we’ve agreed that your presence for finals week will
only disturb the other students. Your exam today and your finals from all your
classes are in that folder. You can turn it into my mailbox by the last day of
finals.”

“So they’re like take-home tests?” I ask, a little confused.

“Essentially, yes. There’s no reason for you to be on campus
for one last week. You’ll distract everyone. You’ve already wasted…” He looks
at the clock. “Five minutes of their time. For some that could cost them a
letter grade.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just return the exams on time, and if you
could, exit out this door.” He motions to the one behind him, the one where I
won’t need to walk up all those stairs.

I say a quick thanks and then disappear quickly out the
double doors. I peek into the envelope, all the tests nestled inside. It’s
generous. They could have easily just failed me. But it also reminds me how my
life is changing. I can’t even sit in a classroom anymore. What is next year
going to be like? Will the professor give me all the tests to take home? Or
maybe they’re hoping I’ll be expelled from Princeton before that happens.

But with my father’s lawyers defending my stay here, I know
I’ll be back next year.

Walking down the hall, I find Lo, Connor, and Ryke sitting
in the lobby where I last left them, waiting for me. They talk quietly amongst
each other. I raise my hand to wave and call to them, but a body steps in front
of me, blocking my path.

“Hey, aren’t you the infamous Lily Calloway?”

He speaks loud enough that I see Lo’s head perk up. His eyes
hit mine and they fill with concern.

“Are you deaf?” the guy laughs.

I meet his pretty green eyes and scan his blond hair, a
twenty-something guy, tall with muscular arms. He sports a black and orange
Princeton tee.
 

“I’m Lily,” I confirm. My eyes flicker past his body again.
Lo is on his feet, but he hesitates towards reaching my side.

Is he still angry at me?

Oh jeez, we’re still in a fight, aren’t we?

My heart beats crazily, and I focus my attention back on the
blond. “I’m also leaving.” I sidestep and he follows suit, trapping me to this
spot in the hall.

I hear Lo’s shoes on the tile floor, and I try to
relax.
 

“Why would you want to do that?” Blond Guy asks. “I heard
that you love going down, and I’ve got something here for you.” He grabs my
hand, and fear bobs my throat. Oh my God. I never thought this could happen in
a hallway (slightly empty, albeit) during the middle of the day. Maybe he
thinks I’m as wanting and easy as they say I am on the news. Maybe he believes
I won’t care or fight him. That has to be it.

But I’m not that girl. Sure, I may have played into his
advances a year ago, but now they literally curdle my stomach. I recoil and try
to untangle from his strong hold, but he grips my hand and places it right on
his pants.

Whatever I feel—it doesn’t last long because Lo grabs his
shoulders from behind and throws his back into the wall.

I flinch, not accustomed to physical aggression from Lo, not
even when he pinned Mason against my car. And he eases off the guy within a second,
his eyes pulsing with something hot and black.

“This is why America invented the sexual offender registry,
you sick fuck,” Lo spits.

“I didn’t touch her,” Blond sneers, the veins in his neck
bulging. “Your slutty girlfriend was all over me.”

“I was not,” I snap, about to charge him myself. I don’t
have nails, but I’m not below slapping.

Ryke grabs me, and I squirm, trying to go help Lo. “Lily,
stop,” Ryke says, holding me tighter.
 

“You want your dick to be touched so badly, fine,” Lo
growls, and he does something that causes me to pause, going quiet and
motionless in Ryke’s arms.

Lo slams the guy again, his back digging further into the
wall, and he puts his hand over the guy’s pants. The icky feeling I had for
touching Blond vanishes. I’m not the only who did it. Though, Lo volunteered
his hand.
 

Blond thrashes, and Lo must grip hard because his face
contorts into a pained wince. “Get the fuck off me.”

“What? You don’t like it anymore?”

“I can sue you for harassment.”

“Let’s play that fucking game,” Lo replies. “Let’s see whose
lawyers are better. I’m a goddamn Hale. My family eats shitty fucks like you
for brunch. Don’t you ever force yourself on a girl, ever again.” Lo loosens
his grip, and then he steps back from him. Blond hesitates to retaliate, but
his eyes ping from Lo, to Ryke, to Connor, and he mutters a curse and retreats
down the hall.

Ryke looks ready to run after him and take a swing.

Lo’s chest rises, his hands clenching and unclenching. I see
Jonathan in his words and actions, and I know the same comparison must
infiltrate his head. Sober Lo still does mean things, and I’m not sure what the
right way to protect me was—or what I could have done to help. But I do realize
how much he hates even the notion of turning into Jonathan Hale. And for
sacrificing a large chunk of his heart to come to my aid, I am very,
very
grateful. What he just did for
me—it wasn’t easy.

His eyes find me. I step forward and put my arms around him,
wanting to hold him and thank him all in one swoop.

Drunk Lo wouldn’t have been here.

I’d either have to give into this guy’s advances, scream for
help and hope that a Ryke Meadows was around, or try to find a way to fight off
a six-foot guy.

Lo kisses the top of my head, and says, “Are you sure you
don’t want a bodyguard? I can’t always be around you, Lil.”

I’ve contemplated it. The idea of a guy shadowing me is a
little unsettling, but after this, it’s definitely safer. “Only if you want me
to.”

“We can pick out someone who’s really ugly,” he offers with
a small smile. It’ll make him feel better, and that matters a lot to me.

I nod. “Okay.”

I separate from Lo and hold up the manila folder to Connor,
who has been staring at it in curiosity for the past couple of minutes. “All my
exams,” I explain. “The professors don’t want me on campus anymore.” For
obvious reasons. And right now, I don’t want to be here all that much either.

Being a sex addict does not give guys the right to touch me.
I didn’t think that would be an issue until now. Is this a problem that will
persist for the rest of my life? Or something that will die when the media
loses interest in me?

Only time has the answers.

{ 40 }

LILY CALLOWAY

“This would go a lot faster if you’d just let me
bubble in the two other scantrons while you work on that one,” Sebastian tells
me. He sits on the Queen Anne chair smoking his cigarette as he watches me
hunched over piles of papers and scantrons. I’m basically copying the answers
from Sebastian’s old exams to my finals, which feels more like cheating than
simply memorizing.

But I’m fairly certain that actually letting him bubble in
the answers would be cheating. “I’m not a cheater.” I cringe. “I’m not a
complete
cheater. Don’t tempt me to your
dark side.”

He blows out a line of smoke. “Your angelic image was
tarnished far before you ever accepted my help. You and I aren’t so different,
Lily. We both enjoy an unhealthy amount of co—”

I throw a pillow at him and he catches it with his free
hand, trying to protect his cigarette. Some things haven’t changed after I was
outed as a sex addict. Sebastian is still Sebastian. And apparently he’s seen
enough rich kid debauchery that my secret was hardly anything riveting. His
words.

So I called him to bring over old exams for all my finals,
and he hasn’t stared at me any differently than before the scandal. Which is
kinda nice.

The front door bangs open.

I hurriedly shuffle the old exams into a pile. My head whips
around, trying to find a good hiding place. I lift up the sofa cushion and
stuff them under it.

When I meet Sebastian’s gaze, he looks like he could rip out
my jugular for putting his old exams with the dust bunnies and rusted pennies.
Oops.

Connor’s voice echoes from the kitchen. “We can keep
brainstorming. We’ll come up with something, Lo.” They must be discussing the
start-up company that Lo has to pitch to his father. He has a couple days left
to choose a platform, and he enlisted Connor’s expertise. They spent all
morning at a meeting to throw around ideas—and when I say “meeting,” I mean
they sat in Starbucks.

They both saunter into the living room, Connor carrying a
tray of coffees and a small pastry. “I thought you could use some test-taking
boosts,” he tells me. Oh, this is why I love Connor Cobalt as a tutor. I beam,
but that falls suddenly at the realization that I’m (A) Lying to him. (B)
Cheating. (C) Team Sebastian. (D) Accepting the treats despite all of the
above.

I say thanks and scoop the whipped cream from the coffee
with my finger. Sin does taste delicious.

Lo stands off to the side, busily texting on his phone. Six
days have passed since our bathroom fight over my self-love, and he has yet to
forgive me completely. Our fights used to revolve around our
addictions—sometimes we’d just drown in them for an extended week, ignoring
each other. But this is a
real
,
normal fight that hurts more than I ever thought it would.

“Lo, did you come up with any good ideas for the company?” I
ask. I offered to help, but every time I suggested something, he told me to
focus on my health. I grab the chocolate-filled croissant on the table and tear
off small pieces to eat. I dunk a portion in my coffee.

Lo acknowledges me, and his eyes lighten when he sees me
eating. “The top choice is a food truck.” He doesn’t look enthusiastic about
that idea.
 

I take a slurp from my coffee. “You have more time,” I
remind him. “It’s not over until the fat lady sings…” I narrow my eyes. No
that’s not right. “Well, in this case the fat lady would be your father.”

He smiles, and he must catch the momentary lapse of
happiness towards me because his lips downturn quickly. He closes off the
conversation with the shift of his body.

We’re still fighting apparently.
 

“Where’s Rose?” Sebastian asks, lighting another cigarette.

Connor stares at it, letting irritation cross his face, his
chest inflating with a deep inhale. “She’s taking a final, and you shouldn’t be
smoking in here.”

“And yet…” Sebastian blows out a short puff. “I am.”

Lo’s phone rings, and he slips into the kitchen to answer
his cell.

Connor steps towards Sebastian, and my evil tutor suddenly
springs from his chair, both guys standing their ground with superiority. They
each believe they’re better than the other. I’m not accustomed to intellectual
stand-offs.

Sebastian appraises the cigarette in his fingers. “She
hardly cares if I smoke, you know. If you did it, she’d drop you like she did
her last boyfriend. She found a pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket. Next
day, he was gone. Lasted one taxingly long week.”

“You planted the cigarettes on him, didn’t you?”

Sebastian takes a long drag and breathes the smoke right
into Connor’s face. “Perceptive.”

Connor doesn’t even flinch. “Maybe you should be.”

Sebastian lets out a laugh. “You don’t think I am? I know
that Rose has spent almost no time with you since Calloway Couture has
suffered. I know that she cried on my shoulder two nights ago, not yours. I
know that she called me, not you, to help pack up her office.”

She already started boxing her workplace?

“You feel threatened by me,” Connor states, stepping forward
so only a small space separates his body from Sebastian’s. Connor has the height
advantage—he usually does.

“By Connor Cobalt? A guy who is willing to sell out anyone
if the benefit weighs on his side. No, I am not threatened by you. I just hate
you.” Sebastian gives him a long once over. “Rose always did too. I don’t know
what you said that changed her mind.”

“She never hated me,” Connor says casually.

“She bitched about you all the time in prep school. She’d
return from Model UN, and I’d have to listen to her drone on about how
Richard
made a treaty against her
country’s best interests. How
Richard
won
the highest honor for countering terrorist actions.” Model UN sounds mildly
intense and slightly scary.

“For such a smart guy, you really know nothing,” Connor
says, his voice even-tempered. “She liked me, Sebastian. She
bitched
to you because she was attracted
to
me
, a guy that riled her more than
placated her, and that pissed her off.” Connor steals the cigarette from his
fingers. “And if you truly cared for that girl, you’d realize that every time
you smoke in this house, you set off her OCD.”

Sebastian’s lip twitches.

“You didn’t know that, did you?” Connor says. “While she
cries on your shoulder about her company, yesterday she stayed the night at
my
apartment. And I spent four fucking
hours calming her down because
you
put
wild ideas in her head. You smoke, you mess with her things, and you return her
to me restless. She paces back and forth, muttering idioms that make no sense,
and I have to figure out how to put her back together. You are not a friend to
her; you’re a parasite.”

I drop my pastry on my lap.

Sebastian is left speechless, his lips pressed tightly
together.

Connor won this round. But when Rose enters the mix, I just
hope he’s able to win the whole battle.

After Connor snuffs out the cigarette on his empty cup, he
masterfully bottles his annoyance towards Sebastian, and his eyes fall to the
scattered scantrons. “You should be taking those in a quiet testing
environment, preferably somewhere clean.” His collects the gum wrappers, and
Sebastian’s crinkled magazines, tossing them in a nearby trash bin.

“She’s fine,” Sebastian says, finding his voice again.

“What are you even doing here?” Connor asks. “If Lily’s
taking her finals, she doesn’t need to be tutored anymore.”

“I’m monitoring the exams so she doesn’t cheat,” he lies. I
want to snort, given the fact that minutes ago he offered to bubble-in my
finals for me.

“I can do that,” Connor says. “Go propagate cancer somewhere
else.” He takes a seat next to me—right on the same cushion where I buried the
tests.

I hear the
crunch
and
the
crackle
of papers, muffled but
still distinguishable. I close my eyes and count to five in my head. This
cannot be happening.

“Lily,” Connor says tensely, “am I sitting on porn?”

What?! I open one eye and meet Connor’s gaze. I expect him
to be calm in the normal I’m-Connor-Cobalt-and-I-don’t-show-real-emotions kind
of way. Instead, he wears disappointment fairly well. This is the moment where
I can either out myself as a somewhat-cheater or take the hit for stashing
porn. There’s no contest.

I spent days without self-love or any kind of sex from Lo,
trying desperately to return to good faith with him. All of that will be
squandered in one moment if he thinks it’s dirty mags. And I’m so sick of
lying.

“It’s not porn,” I confess.

Connor stands and lifts up the cushion. He stares at the
papers, the top exam with a random name (Jeremy Gore) and a letter grade (A-).

He shakes his head. “I knew it,” he says rather calmly,
adding all the pieces together so easily. Must be a smart-person trait. I bet
Sherlock Holmes was a certified genius.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and takes out his phone, as if this
is all very dull for him, but I imagine that Connor has him shaking internally,
a few more moves away from dethroning him in Rose’s life.

I gather up the tests before Connor tries to toss them out.
I still have finals to take. “I can explain,” I say as I straighten out the
papers on my lap.

He returns the cushion to its original state, and before I
can offer an explanation, the front door swings open.

“Just because the bike can reach a hundred-fifty, doesn’t
mean you should go that fucking fast. You nearly cut off a car behind you.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Daisy says.

“He honked at you.”

“Or he honked at
you.
You were riding my brake lights.”

“I was ten fucking feet behind you, and next time, I’m
taking you to a race track.”

“Really?” I can hear the smile behind the word.

“Yeah, if you want to fucking kill yourself, at least you
won’t cause a five-car pileup while you’re doing it.”

When they walk into the living room, Daisy is smiling from
ear to ear. Both carry motorcycle helmets under their arms, reminding me that
Ryke agreed to Daisy’s offer. About a week ago, he told her he would keep the
black Ducati in return for teaching her how to ride
safely
, which must be a hard job with Daisy as a pupil.

“You were supposed to tutor her,” Connor says to Sebastian,
actual anger seething in his eyes. It’s kind of terrifying.

Ryke and Daisy go quiet by the staircase, realizing they
walked in on a…situation.

Sebastian pockets his phone in his blazer. “You and I both know
that one is a lost cause. I did her a favor.”

“She doesn’t need another handout.” He invades Sebastian’s
space again. “You’re a lazy sanctimonious prick who profits off of apathetic
trust fund babies. The students who need those exams are the ones who can’t
afford them. You
knowingly
perpetuate
a repugnant cycle.” He stares at him like he’s shit on the bottom of his shoe.
“You keep the rich kids stupid and the poor kids poor.”

“What’s going on?” Rose’s voice ices the entire room.

No one moves. She stands near Daisy and Ryke, who must have
left the front door open. No one heard her walk in.

Sebastian slips out of Connor’s blockade. “I caught your
boyfriend smoking that.” He points to the snuffed cigarette on the coffee cup.
“And then he accused me of helping Lily cheat.”

Connor looks like he could kick Sebastian’s ass. And that
face—one of pure venom—does not come often. Or at least, I’ve rarely seen it
since we’ve been friends.

Rose glances at Ryke and Daisy for verification.

“We just got here,” Daisy says.

Ryke is not about to vouch for Connor either. They’re not
the best of friends since their personalities clash more than compliment.

Rose doesn’t even ask me whether or not Sebastian helped me
cheat or if Connor smoked all those cigarettes. I guess she won’t trust my
answer anyway, even if I give her the right one.

But I have to try. “I did cheat,” I tell her in a high
voice.

She ignores me. So much for honesty.

My sister approaches both guys and rests her hands on her
hips, looking between them. Connor stares at her with such intensity, basically
speaking through his soul-bearing eyes.

Rose engages with him, not able to tear away.

Sebastian panics and places a hand on her shoulder. “Rose,
he’s manipulating you. It’s what he does.”

Rose flinches.

“Don’t doubt yourself,” Connor tells her. “Not for this guy,
not for anyone.”

Rose wavers.

“Think about it,” Connor says. “You told me he’s profited
off of selling old tests before.”

“The cigarettes—”

“You have known me for almost ten years. I have held you in
my arms. I have kissed you. Have you ever smelled smoke on me before?”

Sebastian cuts in, “Rose, he convinced Brad to forfeit his
Lambda Kai presidency so someone else could take the position. He can make
people do things they would never do.”

Connor stares down at her. “I would never manipulate you.”
But he doesn’t deny that he’s done it before, that he uses whatever power he
has to get what he wants. I always knew Connor did things for his benefit, not
out of the kindness of his heart, but hearing it from someone else, well, it
makes it real.

Sebastian says, “He dated Hayley Jacobs just so her father
would write him a recommendation to Wharton. He’s with you because of your
name. How many times do I have tell you that?”

Rose’s eyes narrow at Connor. “Did my father write you a
recommendation?”

“He offered, yes.”

“And you accepted?”

He says nothing.

“Unbelievable.” Her face twists like he stomped on her
heart. I rise, about to go to her side. But I hesitate as she points a finger
at Connor. “You came with me to my parent’s Sunday luncheons because you were
trying to worm your way into my father’s good graces.”