Thrive

by Krista Ritchie

  Her honesty surprises me, and I know, in this moment, I have to reciprocate it. She deserves that at least.

  “Regardless…” I say. I’m sorry, Rose. The words stay trapped in the back of my throat.

  Still, she nods in understanding. “As long as you keep my sister safe, we’ll be even.”

  It’s not even a fair price to pay because I’d do that no matter what. But I take it.

  I’m about to turn around and head back up the stairs when she says, “I hope you know that I’m not mean to you because you’re a guy…” She lets out a deep, strained breath.

  I overheard Connor yesterday trying to console Rose about the comments online. The ones that call her a misandrist. She was crying. I never thought she would take offense to anything, but they chinked her iron wall. I figure the topic has been on her mind lately.

  “It’s just…” she tries again. “…I don’t hate men.” Her shoulders tighten, probably at the thought of all the ridicule.

  Rose has always been dramatic—she threatens to castrate guys, to snip off their balls. It’s a part of her humor, but on air, it’s been taken the wrong way.

  “I think you dislike types of people,” I tell her, “both men and women. The TV just shows parts of us. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  She nods, and after a brief minute, she focuses back on the television. Our rare, honest moment ends just like that.

  { 32 }

  0 years : 08 months

  April

  LILY CALLOWAY

  Lo found the best way to stick it to production: barricading ourselves in our bedroom. Scott wants footage of us; well, now he has none.

  Seven days into our protest and cabin fever starts setting in. I’m used to holing up in a house, but holing up in a room is quite different. For one, Lo and I have agreed that we’ll only sneak out for bathroom breaks.

  We’re waiting for Scott to apologize for all the mean things he’s said plus altering footage of us. It’s different than handing me porn and passing Lo a bottle of alcohol. He’s actively trying to turn our friends and family against us. That’s a new low.

  However, I think it’s more likely that we’ll die from starvation up here. Our only source of food comes from my youngest sister, who smuggles us bagels and cookies whenever she’s home—which isn’t often.

  I’ll be back in 10 minutes. Taxi got lost. – Daisy

  I groan as Lo does pushups on the floor. He had to skip the gym a few times this week, which helps take his mind off drinking and alleviates stress. “We’re going to starve,” I tell him. “Maybe I can convince Connor to bring me a Pop-Tart.”

  “No chance,” Lo says, his chest lowering to the ground. “I texted him to bring me a Fizz, and he started lecturing me about anatomy and how bipedal mobility works. All in a damn text. If I wasn’t so irritated, I would have been impressed.”

  “Yeah, but Rose is my sister. He has to be nice to me.”

  I quickly compose a text. Connor, I need food. I’m dying. SOS! I hit send.

  Too bad Rose and Ryke have bonded together to denounce our protest. They think hiding out in a room, isolating ourselves, will cause us to regress. But we’re not having any more sex than we usually do. Mostly, we’ve spent our time bingeing on Netflix and reading comics online.

  I flip open my laptop just as my phone pings.

  The refrigerator is stocked. If you’ve lost mobility in your legs, Loren can carry you downstairs. And you know how I feel about hyperboles. – Connor

  Ugh.

  I close my phone. “He’s on Team RoRy. Mission aborted.” I sit on the edge of the bed, typing on my laptop, and Lo rolls onto his back to begin sit-ups.

  “RoRy?” he questions with a grunt.

  “Yeah, also known as evil siblings Rose and Ryke,” I tell him. “They needed a name.” I start scrolling through Tumblr’s #PoPhilly feed. Most of the comments are essay-long paragraphs detailing how they love the show.

  Secretly, I just like looking at the gifs. Many people have created them from videos of Lo kissing and flirting with me. We’ve been called OTP (one true pairing) so many times that I literally have to stop myself from producing happy tears.

  I never thought we’d make it into a fandom. It’s not something I sought, and now that it’s happening it feels more surreal than anything. I have to admit, I love this side of pop culture much more than the paparazzi. Maybe because Lo and I have always been fans at heart.

  I click the #Caballoway tag and find gifs of Connor’s arched eyebrow and Rose’s brutal stare in reply. I instantly smile.

  “Are you on Twitter?” Lo asks as he blows out a heavy breath. He lowers his back to the ground and stops just before it touches the floor. When he rises, he gives me a look like we talked about Twitter. We did. It’s not a healthy place for me.

  “Tumblr,” I reply, my voice small.

  He freezes mid-sit-up. “Lily,” he says my name in warning. Tumblr is worse for me.

  “I’m looking at chaste gifs,” I blurt out. “The kind with you and me kissing.”

  “You can’t even watch us making out on TV without getting wet,” he reminds me and resumes his workout. “You shouldn’t be looking at gifs of it either.”

  “I’m getting better at it,” I admit truthfully.

  “Okay,” he says, “but what happens if you stumble onto gifs of naked men and cocks. You’ve abstained from porn for so long, Lil. You don’t want to ruin that by accident.”

  He’s so right. But I glance back at the computer screen and see a gif of Connor wrapping his arms around Rose’s waist, his eyes lighting up with desire, possession, and love. I’m so touched that we’re all a part of a fandom. It’s going to be so sad to abandon this. To never see it again.

  “Lil.” Lo sits up, his arm on his bent knee. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll sit beside you and we can look at them together. I’ll cover your eyes if I see any penises. How’s that?”

  I smile. “What if there are boobs? Can I cover your eyes?”

  “Sure,” he says into a laugh as he lowers back to the ground. I log onto the Marvel website, a safe place, while he continues his workout.

  The door swings open a few minutes later, and Daisy stealthily glides inside on her skateboard…okay, not so stealthily, but it’s a pretty cool entrance.

  And her appearance triggers a bright feeling, like Christmas morning. I rush her before she gets far. “What’d you bring?”

  She grins, setting a foot on the floor and leaving one on her board. “Your favorite.” She shakes a paper brown Lucky’s bag.

  “You’re the best.” Between keeping our secret and smuggling in food, Daisy has shown her loyalty to Team LiLo (that’s what they call us online now).

  Lo jumps up from the ground and takes the bag from Daisy. “Thanks, Dais.”

  “Always happy to help,” she says, standing back on her skateboard. She rolls around the room. “I have to warn you though, Rose is giving me these dirty looks. I think she’s catching on that I’m sneaking in food.”

  “Stay strong,” I encourage as Lo passes me a box of fries.

  “She has those eyes, you know,” Daisy tells us. “They’re kind of scary.”

  “That’s what it feels like to be turned to stone,” Lo says. He sits at the desk and unwraps a burger.

  “LILY! LO!” Ryke yells from downstairs. “I’m coming up! You both better be clothed!”

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  “Hide,” I hiss to Daisy. I don’t want her to get in real trouble from Rose or Ryke. We both glance at the bed at the same time, and Daisy lies on her skateboard and rolls underneath, out of sight.

  I shove a fry in my mouth and find the Nerf gun by the nightstand.

  Lo snaps his fingers at me. “Uh-uh.” He shakes his head in disapproval.

  I swallow my fry and then say, “He’s the enemy, Lo.”

  The door pops open before he can reply, and I pelt the Nerf balls at Ryke’s chest. He doesn’t flinch, not even by the fifth
one. “What the fuck, Lily?” he growls and storms over, tugging the plastic toy from my hands.

  I look to Lo, and he has that expression like told you so.

  Damage not inflicted. Point taken.

  I slump down on the bed, stiffening a little as I remember Daisy hides beneath the mattress and box springs.

  Ryke narrows his eyes at the Nerf gun. “Where did you get this?”

  “We’ve had it,” I lie briskly.

  “If you’ve had this, you’d have shot me weeks ago.”

  So true.

  “It apparated into our room.”

  His eyebrows knot. “What?” He turns to Lo. “Is she even speaking English.”

  Lo wipes his mouth with a napkin, still focused on his food. “It’s a Harry Potter term.”

  “For fuck’s sake, both of you are being ridiculous. Stop this silly fucking protest and come down…” His voice trails off when he catches sight of what Lo is eating. A Lucky’s bag guiltily sitting beside the innocent lamp. And then Ryke’s face darkens. “Calloway!”

  “Yes?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes. “Not you.” His head whips around the room. “Daisy!” He flings open the closet door, searching for her between my shirts and Lo’s crew-necks.

  “You should be directing your anger at Scott,” Lo refutes, sipping from a fountain Fizz. “The moment he apologizes, we’ll be back downstairs with the cameras.”

  Ryke doesn’t listen. He concentrates on finding my sprightly blonde sister. “Daisy!” And then he rests a hand on the mattress, about to duck his head underneath the bed.

  “Wait!” I shriek. But it’s too late.

  He grabs her ankle and rolls her out onto the floor.

  She’s smiling wide, her blonde hair tangled and hanging half in her face. “Hey there,” she says, looking up at Ryke.

  He gives her a long once-over that’s hard to miss. “Stop giving them food and…toys.” He tosses the Nerf gun on the bed.

  Daisy turns over, her back against the skateboard. “They were getting bored,” she refutes like it makes all the difference. It so does.

  “Good.”

  She glides away from him with the push of her hands, like she’s floating on the pool on her back.

  Ryke puts his foot in between her legs, stopping the skateboard from rolling. My sister inhales a little deeper than before. This looks utterly sexual. Right? I glance to Lo, and his glare could burn a hole in his brother’s forehead.

  Ryke never backs down, waiting for Daisy to speak.

  “I have this theory,” Daisy says, “that if you leave two people who are really, really attracted to each other, alone in a room, without anything to do, they’ll have sex. A lot, a lot of sex.”

  I blush, wondering if she’s talking about us or about her and Ryke.

  We wait in uncomfortable silence for Ryke to reply.

  He says, “If that theory is right, you must really find your boyfriend fucking ugly.”

  “Who says I haven’t had lots of sex with him?”

  His glare could kill. “He’s twenty-three, Dais. If you’re fucking him, he’s going to jail.”

  She raises her hand in defense and sits up on the skateboard. Ryke’s leg is closer to her crotch in result, but she actually grabs onto his ankle so he doesn’t move. “I’m not…I wouldn’t do that to someone.” She glances at me for back up.

  “She’s just being nice to us,” I say. “Don’t jump down her throat, Ryke.” My eyes bug. “Notlikethat.”

  Lo groans behind me. “Appetite lost, Lil.”

  Yeah, I don’t want to think about Ryke’s you know what near Daisy’s mouth either.

  Daisy breathes heavily and says straight out, “I just thought that if they got bored, then they’d probably want to have sex.”

  Lo coughs hoarsely, and I walk over to pat his back. He takes a large sip of his soda before he says, “Please, don’t talk about my sex life, Daisy.”

  She sighs and sets her forehead on Ryke’s leg in frustration. He still towers above her. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “You’re not fucking helping,” Ryke says rudely, though his hand is on her head, closer physically than I’ve seen them before. Their friendship has made a few extra strides it seems. Hopefully not too far.

  “Hey,” I pipe in. “She is too helping. If I didn’t have my Nerf gun, I probably would have jumped Lo. Sex crisis averted.”

  Ryke steps away from Daisy and turns on me. “If you’re having problems controlling yourself, maybe you shouldn’t be locked in a room with your boyfriend.” He points at the toy gun on the bed. “But this is your fucking solution? Really?”

  “Looks more fun than doggy style,” Daisy chimes in with a lopsided smile.

  “No,” Ryke says one word to refute that.

  I’d have to agree with him. Nerf guns are not as fun as doggy style.

  Lo pinches the bridge of his nose and then rises from the desk. “Okay.” He grabs the Nerf gun off the bed and shoves it in Ryke’s chest. “Take the gun. Take Daisy.” He clasps Daisy’s wrist, pulls her to her feet and hands her the skateboard. Then he rejoins me in the middle of the room. “We’re going to be protesting in private.”

  Ryke doesn’t look happy.

  “Told you,” Daisy says under her breath, “I tried to keep them from—”

  Ryke swiftly draws her to his chest and covers her mouth with his hand. I can tell she’s smiling underneath his palm.

  “You’ll really come out if Scott apologizes?” he asks.

  “Yep,” Lo says.

  “I’ll have him in here within the hour,” Ryke proclaims, a promise attached to the words. “This shit ends tonight.” He releases Daisy, his eyes drifting along her features. “I don’t know what kind of doggy style you’re doing, but it’s wrong.” He pats her head before exiting.

  Lo shouts back, “Inappropriate, bro!”

  Daisy watches Ryke leave before she sidles next to me and nudges my hip. “Sorry.”

  I shake my head and give her a side hug. “You’ve been a valiant soldier. The best.”

  When she smiles, it’s bright and beautiful, and I wonder how I spent so many years avoiding a relationship with her. Daisy is one of the most soulful people to be around, and maybe if I opened up a little sooner, I’d have felt this joy from the start.

  { 33 }

  0 years : 09 months

  May

  LILY CALLOWAY

  I rest my back against a shelf with an array of pill bottles for sale, trying not to engrain this mental image in my brain. Lo and Ryke, side-by-side, staring at a huge wall of condoms. Scott apologized after Ryke physically pushed him in our room. His “I’m sorry” wasn’t very sincere, but we both were ready to move on. I just never thought that I’d be here. On our way home from lunch, the three of us made a pit stop at a local drug store to pick up the love gloves.

  It’s funny—before Lo, condoms were my staple. Now I hate them.

  How things change.

  “Why do you have to wear condoms?” I ask Lo for the third time.

  He hasn’t answered me yet. They’ve been making fun of the Magnum XL glow-in-the-dark condoms for the past minute, not because of the size though. I would partake in the jokes if I wasn’t so confused.

  “I understand why Ryke has to wear them,” I continue like they’re listening. “What if one of his conquests claims to have a Ryke baby? That’s a scary thought, right?”

  Ryke spins around to face me. Finally! “Can you not call the girls I sleep with conquests? You make it seem like my goal in life is to fuck women, and they’re not trophies to me.”

  “Sure, can you ask Lo why he has to wear condoms?” I reply.

  Ryke gives me a look like are you really fucking serious? “It’s called protection from an unplanned pregnancy.”

  “I’m on birth control,” I whisper-hiss, lowering my voice as people pass our aisle. They don’t notice who we are though, or if they do, they don’t care. Ryke and Lo chos
e an out-of-the-way drug store instead of one in town. To accommodate me and my paranoia. It was nice of them.

  “Lil, it’s just for a little while,” Lo says, grabbing a box off the rack. He’s been getting badgered by my sister and his brother about being more careful. They’re worried that with the reality show stress and hamming it up for the cameras (aka excessive teasing), we’re going to have a mistake.

  “Wearing them doesn’t feel as good.” I pause. “For either party involved.” And then I point my finger at Ryke. “Don’t deny it.”

  He raises his hands. “I wasn’t going to, but some things are worth sacrificing, Calloway.”

  Fine. “So how many boxes are you going to buy? Three? Five?” He needs like eleven. His one-night stands can almost compete with past-me.

  “One,” he replies. “And don’t you have to buy tampons?”

  It would have been a rude comment if he wasn’t completely serious. “I don’t need them. I delay my period on birth control,” I say it all without blushing. Internally, I am patting myself on the back.

  “Let me guess,” he says, his eyes darkening. “So you can have more sex.” My cheeks redden. Damn. But I have to give myself credit; I’ve been able to last this long talking about condoms and sex without my body revolting against me. When Ryke looks away, I give myself a literal quick tap on the shoulder. Go me.

  “Hey,” Lo cuts in and puts his hand on Ryke’s shoulder. “Stop giving her a hard time.”

  I’m used to it, and I’m sure I irritate Ryke just as equally. He barely glances at the rack before he tugs a pack of condoms off, which basically means he has a particular brand and size that he always wears. I focus on the check-out, avoiding eye-contact with the condoms—because knowing the size will weird me out.

  My brain does a tailspin the minute I notice the line of magazines and tabloids stacked beside the counter. The headline stops my heart: Lily Calloway, Nymphomaniac and Reportedly Sleeping with Brothers. I’ve seen this many times before. But that’s the problem.