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 na**d men and cocks. You’ve abstained from p**n 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 f**k, 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 f**k’s sake, both of you are being ridiculous. Stop this silly f**king 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.