Fearless Like Us

by Krista Ritchie

I skate around Luna and peer over her shoulder. Uncle Stokes texted a pic of Luna’s 8-month-old puppy chewing a bone in his kitchen. “That was rad of Uncle Stokes to dog-sit,” I say.

  Uncle Stokes is my mom’s brother-in-law. His full name is Samuel Stokes. Him and his wife, my Aunt Poppy, have stayed out of the limelight. Most fans and public don’t realize there’s actually a fourth Calloway sister and that my Aunt Rose isn’t actually the oldest.

  Poppy Calloway is like the lost Jonas brother or the least recognizable Hemsworth brother. She purposefully avoids big family functions and media attention. To the point where everyone forgets she even exists, outside of a Wiki search.

  But Aunt Poppy and Uncle Stokes are close enough to the fam that I could call either of them and they’d do just about anything for me.

  So when Orion and Arkham got fleas the day before the lake house trip, me and my roommates decided to flea-bomb the penthouse and leave the puppies home for the holidays. Uncle Stokes planned to cat-sit for Jane anyway. After the leaks, we’ve been hesitant to let any strangers into the penthouse, including the cat sitter Jane hired.

  Luna pockets her phone. “Yeah, Uncle Stokes is pretty nice. I kinda feel bad that he’s not here for Christmas.”

  From what my mom told me, Uncle Stokes has been in a pressure-cooker to fix things after Fizzle’s stocks plunged. So he stayed back in Philly.

  “Yeah, me…” Too. The last word sits on my tongue as voices pitch into the quiet of the morning. Luna and I spin on our skates and peer out at the lake house.

  People start crowding the upper deck. I spot Moffy and Jane, then Farrow, Thatcher.

  “The Seasons?” Luna says to me. “Do they look…?”

  “Uneasy, yeah.”

  Jane is pacing.

  Luna tilts her head. “Maybe it’s the fake cheating scandal. I don’t think Jane’s public statement about the leak being false helped all too much. Thatcher is still being dragged on Twitter.”

  I wince. “Fucking ugh. People need to stop attacking love. Seriously…” I plant my hands on my hips, then cross my arms. “Wait, is that Uncle Lo? And Aunt Lily…”

  “And the girl squad,” Luna adds, both of us frozen on our skates. She holds up a hand to block a ray of sunshine over the mountain. “What in the Thebula is going on?”

  “No fucking clue.”

  We watch as more and more people pile out until the deck is packed to the very brim. Their voices are too far and too muddled together to distinguish actual syllables and words.

  My heart thumps harder. “What if it’s another leak?”

  Luna shakes her head. “Uh-uh. There hasn’t been a single one since we’ve been here.”

  She’s right, but it’s Christmas. An important day where the mole could’ve dropped a stink bomb onto someone’s life.

  My mouth dries.

  “Best way to find out.” I’m going to go to the source and ask my family what the fuck is up. With power, I skate towards the edge of the lake.

  The closer I am to the snowy bank, the more heads turn. The more eyes cast down on me. My pulse ascends to my throat, but I don’t stop.

  I skate and skate, cold pricking my cheeks, and then I see them.

  Akara and Banks push out from the crowded deck. From my family. They sprint down the icy stairs, they rush down the hill, and I swear as soon as my skates hit land, everyone on the deck goes silent.

  Hushed.

  Like the calm before a tidal wave.

  My head spins.

  I cage breath, and it feels like I’m a part of that nursery rhyme The Three Little Pigs, and I’m standing inside the straw house. Only I’m the wolf. And I’m terrified of blowing it all down.

  My boyfriends are only feet away.

  “Sulli,” Akara says my name tenderly. Too tenderly.

  Banks holds my gaze with concern in his brown eyes. “It leaked, Sulli.”

  I shake my head tensely.

  No.

  We were supposed to have until my birthday. February 4th. Our relationship couldn’t have leaked today—it’s too early.

  No.

  No.

  The pain that cracks their faces says, yes.

  “Sulli,” Akara breathes.

  Pressure hammers my lungs, and I just need to go. Go. Go. I tear off one skate, and I pull off the next. My socks tug off with them. To my boyfriends, I choke out what I need, “Chase me.”

  And I run. Feeling the eyes of my family on my back, I push harder. Banks and Akara’s urgent footsteps charge after me. Barefoot, I bolt to the east and race straight into the dense woods. Woods that I’ve jogged and sprinted more times than I can count.

  Twigs whip at my hair and brush against my face. Snow numbs the soles of my feet. My muscles scream, but something in me is screaming louder and rattling to break free.

  I outrun my boyfriends.

  But I can hear the branches they slam aside and the rumble of earth beneath their heavy, unwavering feet. I’m not alone.

  I’m not alone.

  We’re together.

  Fuck everyone else.

  Everything is going to change.

  Everything is going to fucking change.

  I’m prepared.

  No.

  I’m not ready.

  I was never going to be ready.

  I swerve through two trees, ducking, and blood rings in my ears. I can’t feel my feet. Warring emotion clashes inside me like a free-for-all showdown. Confidence and doubt, positivity and fucking insecurities. All the peace I’ve felt with Akara and Banks is slipping out of my fingertips. Once I leave the lake house, everything is going to change.

  Hot tears prick and fly out of the corners of my eyes, legs pumping viciously beneath me. I grit my teeth and push and push.

  Ice pulls my foot out from under me—I slip and trip and land on my hands and knees. And as I shake with adrenaline, arms scoop around my frame and lift up. Banks cradles me, and I curl into his chest.

  “Let it out,” Akara breathes.

  I scream out the emotion that thrashes, that crashes, that grips and pulls and weighs. The noise fades into Banks’ body. I fist his jacket and reach out to find Akara, but he finds me. He puts my palm on his heart that thumps, thumps, thumps at a calmer pace.

  I breathe and breathe.

  Pulse slowing, throat raw.

  Tears still build. “I’m so angry,” I choke out and wipe at my cheeks. “I have no control over my own fucking life, and this is about to hurt both of you. Your lives are…your privacy…” Everything is going to change.

  “We’re gonna get through it,” Banks murmurs in a husky breath, keeping me in his arms.

  I peel my face out of his chest.

  Their eyes are reddened, despite the confidence in Banks’ voice. Akara nods a few times to me, “I wish we had more time, Sulli…”

  My chin quakes. “Me too, Kits.”

  We were supposed to have more time.

  Cold wind whistles through the fir trees. Banks doesn’t struggle holding me, and I realize he’s not setting me down while I’m barefoot and my feet are stinging.

  “They’re bleeding,” Akara says, watching me stare at my toes.

  He clasps a hand around my ankle and inspects my foot in concern. “You have many splinters, Lady Meadows.”

  I let out a weak laugh. “I feel like one giant splinter…” I’m splintering inside, and my face breaks.

  Banks holds me tighter while I silently cry. I don’t want to cry, but it’s leaking and I can’t stop the fucking waterworks. I’m angry. Sad. Frustrated. Every emotion under the sun. Banks cups the back of my head with such comfort, and Akara says magic words, “Let’s just stay here for a second.”

  Banks nods in agreement, and we all drop to the ground. I lean against Banks and then Akara, their arms around me while we rest against a tree.

  I’m spent, but they look equally destroyed by the news. Akara lifts up his leg and rests his forearm on his knee, staring out.

&n
bsp; He keeps muttering, “I just wish we had longer…”

  Banks places a palm on Akara’s head, consoling him.

  I encase both of my hands around Akara’s hand. After I ask, he ends up showing me the gossip site on his phone.

  THE ROYAL LEAKS

  We reveal all the truths about the American Royals. These are verified and come directly from the source.

  ROYAL LEAK #1: Sullivan Meadows is dating Banks Moretti & Akara Kitsuwon at the same time.

  #TodaysLeaks #didnotseethatcoming #polyamory #StillAVirgin? #DoubleStuffed

  That last hashtag makes me see red, but I calm down when Akara places a hand on the small of my back and Banks weaves an arm around my shoulders.

  “Happy Holidays to us, right?” I mutter, more hot, angry tears brimming. “This mole is the fucking cummiest cumwad.”

  Banks almost smiles.

  Akara leans his head back, eyes ablaze.

  “How are you two handling this?” I whisper.

  “Livid,” Akara says.

  “Annoyed,” Banks answers.

  I swallow a knot. “What if it won’t be as big of a change as we think?” I wonder. “What if no one cares? What if paparazzi just shrug?”

  “The world will care,” Akara says certainly. “They care about you.”

  “Not like Jane and Moffy.”

  “They will now,” Akara whispers. “I’m sorry, Sul, I can’t let you think it’s going to be the same when we leave here. Your safety is the most important thing to me. I can’t let anything happen to you.” His voice almost cracks. He stares off into the thicket of snowcapped trees. “You’re my heart.”

  I lean up and touch his face.

  Akara clasps my hand against his jaw. “I love you, Sulli.”

  “I love you too, Kits.” I nod a few, pained times. “I don’t want to be naïve about what we’re facing either…” I have to be prepared. “But the media hasn’t fucking won yet.”

  They haven’t.

  They haven’t.

  Akara nods with me. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

  Banks digs in his pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes. He toys with opening the carton, but when I lean my head on his shoulder, he closes them. “Come hell or high water, the three of us are surviving together. I don’t care what anyone throws at me.”

  “They’re going to throw shit at her, Banks,” Akara reminds him.

  “We’re protecting her,” Banks shoots back. “There is no path where we don’t.”

  He’s keeping the hope alive, and I breathe every ounce into my bloodstream. I look up at Akara, and his confidence bears back down on me.

  “Banks is right,” he tells me. “There is no path where we don’t protect you.”

  We’re surviving together. And we listen to the wind whistling, the shake of the fir trees, and our breaths that try to calm. I don’t want to go backwards. I can’t lose their companionship, their love, everything they mean to me.

  The woods are where we started, but I don’t want this to be where we end.

  45

  BANKS MORETTI

  Suitcases lie open on the ground in our room. Clothes stuffed and half-folded inside. Tomorrow, we leave the sanctuary of the lake house, and the three of us are dragging our feet. No real motivation to pack up and head back to Philly in the morning. It’s been four days since the leak, and social media has gone wild with theories.

  While I try to fix an extra radio, Sulli lies sideways on the bed with her head in my lap. She holds a cellphone above her maddened eyes and scrolls through comments under a news article. The title: Olympic Gold Medalist Is Dating Two Bodyguards!

  Other headlines are variations of that one:

  Heiress of Fizzle & Hale Co. Fortunes Reportedly in A Polyamorous Relationship

  Shocker! Is Sullivan Meadows Banging Two Bodyguards at Once?

  American Royals are Scandalous Like Us

  The articles about Sulli dating the twin brother of Thatcher Moretti are buried beneath the triad explosion. A saving grace, really. I’m not jumping for joy knowing Jane and my brother might be pulled into this mess just because I happen to look like Thatcher Alessio Moretti.

  Plus, I hate those types of comments. It’s like shrapnel in my eardrums. Infuriating as hell. I saw one buried comment about “it’s weird” that Jane & Sullivan are dating two brothers who have the same face, and steam shot out of my fucking ears.

  Christ, I’m not my brother.

  Sulli takes a tight breath, and I angle my head to see her phone screen. Reading the comments with her.

  It has to be true. The families have only denied 1 leak out of how many??

  No way is Sullivan Meadows in a poly relationship! It’s not in her character.

  WOW. Can you imagine what Ryke & Daisy are thinking? Maybe Sulli is the sex addict of the second gen *eyeball emojis*

  She’s such a slut. Two guys at once? Come on.

  This is so juicy! Does anyone have more details?

  I’ve been trying to find more pics of these three online. Not a lot to go on yet. Definitely sus.

  Sulli clicks her phone, and the screen goes black.

  “You alright?” I ask as she tosses her phone and looks up at me from my lap.

  “I’m used to being Sulli the hairy ogre. Sulli the Sasquatch. I didn’t think I’d ever be Sulli the Slut, and it’s fucking trending, Banks.”

  I stop tinkering with the radio, pain in my chest. The need to go apeshit on the internet has never fully crashed into me until now. “People who want to fling around slut and whore as insults are just shitbags. Useless, wasteless, not worth your time or a fucking dime.”

  She presses her fingers to her eyes. “Fuck, I know. I shouldn’t care what the public thinks. I want to not care.”

  I’m right there with her. “For what it’s worth, it enrages the hell out of me too.”

  Sulli pulls back her hands. “Really?” She searches my cold gaze. The frost isn’t directed at her.

  “A bunch of trolls are calling my girlfriend a slut—yeah, I want to crawl through the phone screen and have more than words with them.”

  She sits up a little to better look at me. “It feels good knowing I’m not the only angry one.”

  “You’re not alone,” I breathe. “I think we all have some kind of fire in us.”

  Sulli stares off in contemplation. “Strong for loving and strong when ticked off?”

  I bob my head. For a moment, I consider popping open my Twitter account. Mainly inactive. But the desire to defend Sulli is at an all-time fucking high.

  “Kits has been pretty composed, though.”

  I widen my eyes at Sulli like that couldn’t be further from the fucking truth. “He threw a pillow at the wall last night when you were taking a shower.”

  Sulli snorts into a smile. “For real?”

  “Yeah, and he made a ‘growly’ noise and screamed into said pillow.”

  Her smile fades. “He’s upset that paparazzi will be more intense.”

  “He’s upset that his girlfriend is the target,” I tell her. “I think like you, he’s more used to the Sasquatch comments and virginity speculation than the shit you’re receiving now.”

  Sulli shifts to face me more. Knees bent, she picks at her frayed ankle bracelet. “I hate that the world is debating my love life like I’m some character in a mystery movie and they’re trying to solve the fucking case.”

  She shouldn’t go on Reddit then. The “Calloway Sisters” subreddit is alive with fervor right now over the leak. Akara told me to do a deep dive to flag any threatening posts.

  Nothing too dangerous so far. Just…overwhelming curiosity.

  “People always want more than you’ll ever give them.” I hold her gaze. “It’s a true cost of fame.”

  Over the years, I’ve seen how Xander would close off and shut down, and no matter how much he retreated, fans who love him still grasp at anything they can see, anything he can give.

  A new
haircut.

  A growth spurt.

  How he spreads cream cheese on a bagel.

  It’s hard to picture myself walking into a similar showdown. I can’t imagine a world where people would fawn or obsess over me the way they’ve done Xander. Which is why I believe there’s still hope the three of us come out of this unscathed.

  Sulli scoots closer, until she’s up next to me, relaxed against the wooden headboard. “This is a new phase of my life…and I wouldn’t want to experience it without you or Akara. It hurts even picturing being in this room alone. Going through this alone.” She slips me a small smile. “I guess I just want to be in the company of a bunch of knucklefucks like me.” She uses my words from the Carnival Fundraiser.

  I curve my arm around her shoulders, lips lifting. “You’ve come to the right place. I’m definitely of knucklefuck stock.”

  She takes my hand that hangs over her chest and presses a kiss to my knuckles.

  Warmth bathes me, and the brewing ire towards online pests is drowned out for a moment.

  The bedroom door slowly opens.

  Akara has been showering down the hall, so I’m not surprised to see him. Towel around his waist, he shuts and locks the door.

  Sulli lets out a wolf whistle.

  Akara mockingly bows. “My lady.” He makes a face at me. “What’s with the old radio?”

  “I misplaced my good one.”

  His face flatlines. “You mean you lost your good one.”

  “Still haven’t lost my mind.” I open up Twitter.

  “Frack, Banks, that’s not reassuring…” He trails off. “Don’t post on Twitter.” He must see the screen from afar. That Cellphone Whisperer.

  Sulli peers over at my social media. “You were going to post?”

  “Maybe.” I have a staring contest with my boss. “Come on, just one tweet.”

  “What are you going to stay? Eat dung and die?”