Becca Ritchie - Hothouse Flower

“I wasn’t babysitting Daisy.” Since her going away party, I’ve been on the same rocky fucking road with my brother whenever her name is mentioned. It’s not different. It’s the fucking same shit over and over again. I’m used to it by now.

Lo stares at the towel in his hands. “I still don’t understand how you’re friends with her. Like…what do you talk about?”

He’s fishing. “We’re not fucking each other.”

Lo glares. “I didn’t say you were, but now I’m thinking it.”

I roll my eyes. Maybe I’m overanalyzing everything. I don’t fucking know anymore. “We talk about normal things. Motorcycles, sports…” sleep, medication, siblings, parents. “…food.”

“She looked really thin at her going away party,” Connor says, off his machine and heading towards us. He grabs his water out of his gym bag. “Rose fought with Samantha about it over the phone for an hour.”

I pop one of my knuckles. “Her mom is putting too much fucking pressure on her to maintain that weight.”

“Maybe she’ll gain some while she’s in Paris,” Lo says, more optimistic than he usually is. I think he’s just happy she’s not around me.

I nod to Connor. “Hey princess, you want to compete at chin-ups?” Lo fucking hates doing them, so he can watch and count.

“I don’t know,” Connor says with a casual tone. “Will you cry when I beat you? If so, then yes.”

“Just get your ass to the pull-up bar.”

Lo stretches his arms. “Hey, don’t talk about his ass like that.”

“You’re making my first love jealous,” Connor banters, heading to the bar with me.

I’ve become used to their flirty fucking banter. They’re best friends. They’ve lived together for almost two years. They have a much better relationship with each other than I do with either of them individually. Am I fucking jealous? Maybe a little.

“You two are so fucking cute,” I say, grasping the bar underhand. I cross my ankles, and Connor does the same on the bar next to me.

“Ready?” Lo says, standing back to judge. “Go.”

I pull myself up, my collarbones in line with the bar, and then I lower my body back to the starting position. One. I breathe out. Two. My muscles burn, but I’m nowhere near fatigued or strained. Three.

I keep counting in my head, Connor easily staying at the same pace as me. He’s in really good fucking shape. I didn’t even realize it when I first met him since he’s always in preppy clothes or suits and button-downs. But he’s kept his body healthy and at a physical peak like me.

Lo’s mind must be wandering because he says, “I’m thinking about going to rehab again.”

Ten. I falter a little, my muscles constricting in tight bands. I frown as I pull my body back up. “You don’t have to decide this now,” I say in a single breath.

Connor is more concentrated on the fucking challenge, so I think he’s lapped me by two chin-ups.

“It helped me before,” Lo admits. “I stayed sober for a long time, and Lily’s in a good place. She’ll be okay without me.”

But it’s different now. Back then, he wasn’t famous. No one knew his name. Lily’s sex addiction hadn’t been publicized. He was just a rich kid from Philly.

“Do you think it’s the right move?” Lo asks.

Fifteen. I usually can do twenty-two, but a nervous sweat drips down my forehead, and my arms go slack at sixteen chin-ups. I drop my feet to the ground. “I don’t know,” I say, undoing the Velcro on my gloves. I slip them off my hands.

Connor does his final chin-up, barely breaking a sweat. “Twenty-three,” he exclaims, a smile behind the words. He knows he beat me. I smack his chest, hoping he’d flinch from the playful attack, but he flexes instead, and I hit muscle.

“Fuck you,” I tell him easily.

He grins. “You love me.”

“You say that to everyone,” I tell him. “And I highly fucking doubt the entire world loves you, Cobalt.”

“The entire world doesn’t have to love me,” he says, picking up his water again. “Only the ones that matter.”

“That’s cute. Did you write that in your diary this morning?”

“No, I read it from yours,” he banters.

I flip him off, and then Connor turns his attention on my brother, never really forgetting what we were talking about. “When were you thinking of leaving for rehab?”

Lo shrugs. “Maybe this week since Ryke is going to California. It just seemed like a good time.”

A lump lodges in my fucking throat. It’s not a good time. I want to be around him while he’s in rehab. I don’t like knowing that he’ll be separated for that long from Lily, from me and Connor, from the ones that truly love him. Last time he went to rehab, I was there. I went to meetings with him. And I’m honestly not fucking sure he can handle the criticism of the media, focusing on his stint in rehab. I worry that’ll send him over the edge too.

Connor nods. “I personally think it’s a good idea.”

Lo’s shoulders lift at that, taking Connor’s opinion with high regard. And then his eyes meet mine. “What about you?”

He can’t go to rehab. “I want you to come with me,” I say.

He frowns with a glare. It’s his normal fucking look, so I don’t take offense to how hostile he appears. I don’t know why I ever thought this kid had friends in prep school. He’d more likely chew them up and spit them out. “What?” he says with edge.

“To California,” I tell him. “Fuck rehab, I’ll make sure you don’t drink. It’ll be a road trip out west. You and me.”

“The wind in your hair,” Connor adds, smiling as he sips his water.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say lightly.

Lo’s face sharpens as he thinks about this. He glances at Connor, then at me before he says, “If I go with you, I think Connor should come too.”

I glare because I can feel Connor gloating beside me. “Why?”

“Why?” Connor says like it’s the stupidest question ever. I feel like he’s about to say Because I’m me.

I have to stop him before I choke on his fucking arrogance. “Seriously,” I say to Lo. “He has a wife that’ll castrate you if you bring him back broken. What if he chips a nail?”

“Then I’ll get a manicure,” Connor quips. “There are solutions to everything. You just have to think to find them. Such hard work.”

“Are we fucking friends?” I ask Connor, glowering. Lo just watches in slight amusement, but really, I think he’s processing my proposal.

“I’m not sure what a ‘fucking’ friend is, so I can’t answer you.”

“Look at that, I know something that Connor Cobalt doesn’t.”

“When it comes to slang, made up words, and the best fire hydrants to piss on, yes, you do.”

“Fuck you.”

“You keep saying it, but you still haven’t done it.” His lips curve upward.

Lo cuts us off, “If you’re both going to be this annoying the whole trip, then I’m choosing rehab.”

“So you’re coming with me?” I ask, internally letting out a deep fucking breath. I feel like I helped him dodge a bullet, and I’m waiting for the gun to reload.

“Yeah, but like I said, only if Connor comes. No offense, Ryke, but I’m afraid we’re going to kill each other if we’re together for that long.” If we bring up our family issues, we just may.

Connor’s a big peacemaker in our circle of friends. He may like to irritate me on purpose, but when everyone starts fighting, he’s the one who calms people down. So I can understand Lo wanting him to come along.

“Fine with me,” I tell him.

My phone buzzes in my shorts. I think it’s Daisy. 1 p.m. in Paris. I check the message.

I’d like to see you before you go kill yourself on a goddamn mountain. – Jonathan

I glare and delete the message.

“Who was that?” Lo asks. “You look pissed.”

“My mom,” I lie. Although, she did text me five times last night. I never answer her, even though it’s the same plea: Come see me. I’m sorry. Ryke, please. I need to see you. I love you.

I’ll always love my mom because she’s my mother. But I can’t ever forgive her for what she’s done to me, to Lily, to the Calloway girls, my brother and inadvertently Connor.

She read my personal texts to Lo, where we talked about Lily’s sex addiction. And she sold the information to the media with the headline: Daughter of Fizzle Creator and CEO is Confirmed Sex Addict. Selling Lily out wasn’t just for money. It was to hurt Lo, and that way, she’d hurt Jonathan.

But she also fucking hurt me.

Now, all six of us are famous because of Sara Hale.

Thanks Mom.

RYKE MEADOWS

Emergency! SOS! – Lily

I eat one bite of my fucking sub at Lucky’s before Lily sends me an SOS. It seems too comical to be serious. I set the sub on the wrapper, tomatoes and lettuce falling from the bread. “Did you guys get a text from Lily?” I ask Connor and Lo across from me.

Lo freezes, clutching his Fizz Life can. “No, what does she want?”

It’s unusual for Lily to text me before Lo. “I don’t know yet.” I text back: What’s wrong?

Connor scrolls through his phone, more agitation passing across his features than I think he’d want to show.

“Your shipment of handcuffs not come in, sweetheart?” I ask him before picking my sub back up in two hands.

“Hoping I’ll cuff you to my bed?” he banters, his face returning to that impassive, unreadable state. “I’d make good on your fantasies, but Rose would be pissed at the claw marks on the headboard.”

“Now I have claws?” I say with raised eyebrows.

He combats me by arching one. That fucker. “You’re lucky, I don’t usually let dogs sleep in my bed, but I’m willing to make an exception.”

I flip him off, and Lo’s leg bounces nervously beneath the table. He holds his hand up at me like what the fuck? “What’s going on with my girlfriend?”

Right on time, Lily calls me. I answer, and before I even ask, she explains. “Rose got a flat tire, and she refuses to call a tow truck.”

“I can fix it myself.” Rose’s icy voice bleeds through the speaker. She grunts a little, as though trying to lift the fucking spare tire.

“She’s in five-inch heels,” Lily notes. “I am impressed. I really am, but it’d be even more impressive if she knew what she was doing.”

“I can read,” Rose says. “I have the manual right here. I don’t need a man to show me how to fix a fucking tire.”

I scratch my jaw. Both Connor and Lo are glaring the hell out of me, hearing bits and pieces of both the girls’ voices without understanding what’s going on. I think Cobalt may snatch the fucking phone from my hand.

Off my gaze, he says, “Rose isn’t answering my texts.” That’s where his agitation stemmed from—he can sense when things aren’t right better than anyone.

“You want me to come out there?” I ask Lily. I’m going to anyway, but I figured that’s why she called. I motion to Lo to ask for the bill. Guess I’ll have to take my sub to-go. He flags down the waitress.

“Just in case Rose can’t fix it,” Lily says

“Doesn’t she have a husband for these situations?” Even though Connor wears suits and rides around in a limo, I’m fairly certain he’s smart enough to fix a fucking tire.

“She doesn’t want him to rub this in her face.”

I roll my eyes again.

“I can do this better than him,” Rose insists in the background. “I don’t need his help.”

Lily sighs. “I’m afraid she’s going to take an hour and then strangers are going to stop and try to help.”

“That’s why I handed you the pepper spray,” Rose tells her. She lets out an irritated scream. “Why is this so fucking heavy?”

“Maybe because it’s a fucking tire,” I deadpan.

Lily says, “You’re lucky she can’t hear you.” So I’m not on speaker then. She must turn to Rose because she adds, “And I’m not pepper spraying a nice person who tries to help us.”

“You would if they tried to rape you,” Rose retorts.

They’re so fucking dramatic. “No one is going to rape the two of you.”

Just like that, both Connor and Lo reach over the table to try and steal the phone from my hand. I hold it high above my head and lean further back.

“Bro,” Lo sneers, “I’m not messing around. Let me talk to her.”

“Is that Lo?” Lily says. “You have to come alone, Ryke. Lo will bicker with Rose and cause more problems. She’s already in a bad mood.” Anxiety pitches her voice, and I imagine her nervously biting her nails.