It’s not fair.
“It’s my senior year—how am I supposed to study in this house?” I take a deep breath. “You could hire someone to help with Aunt Myrtle and Alex. A nanny for them both.”
Mom buries her face in her hands and laughs. “Oh my god, can you imagine. I don’t know who would run a nanny off first, your brother or your auntie.”
“One hundred percent it would be Aunt Myrtle and her parade of geriatric boyfriends.”
“Please.” Mom holds her hands out with more laughter. “Do not remind me. The last guy gave her piña coladas and wine and she wound up puking on the living room rug when he brought her home.”
“What?” I shout, shocked and horrified. “Wait—what? Rewind.”
“She went out with this younger gentleman who said he was sixty-nine but was actually seventy-eight. He took her to a tiki bar, and it didn’t sit well with her.”
“What?”
“She’s still trying to party like it’s 1999, and it came up both ends.”
“That’s not even funny.” Well, it kind of is, but in a weird, I’m going to hell for laughing kind of way.
“No one is laughing. It was horrendous. Your father about had a heart attack, and I made him help clean up the mess. Meanwhile, Auntie went to brunch with a gentleman who owns a golf cart dealership while we cleaned the carpets.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Nothing. You say nothing. It’s been a revolving door of gray-haired single men. Widowed men. Confirmed elderly bachelors. She’s having a field day with it all. I don’t know how a caregiver could manage, and I can barely manage your brother.”
Which is where I come in. “But Mom…”
“I’ll have to talk to your dad, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to text your friend’s brother and see where he’s at with his spare room.”
I want to fist-pump the air for the small victory but manage to restrain myself until Mom leaves the room.
“And maybe if you live by campus, you’ll meet someone.”
Meet someone? Like, a girl? “That’s not the reason I want to move and be closer to school, Mom.”
Girls are distracting, and I have goals.
Mom pats me on the arm. “I know that’s not the reason, sweetie. I was just thinking out loud.”
That’s all anyone in this house does—thinks out loud.
2
LILLY
Kyle cheated.
My boyfriend cheated.
Sexting, sending dick pics, late-night phone calls—the whole nine yards.
He was one step away from actual, physical cheating.
But why.
Why not break up with me instead? Why sneak around behind my back and lie about being happy? Surely telling the truth would have been easier than the subterfuge.
Let’s be real: some guys get off on that shit, and those are not the guys you want in your life.
My roommate Kaylee isn’t home at the moment, and I have no desire to be alone with my thoughts. I tap my feet on the linoleum kitchen floor, staring out the window across the street at the university’s administration building—at its beautiful rotunda and wide steps leading to the massive doors at the top.
We live directly across the street from campus, conveniently located near—well, everything.
Everything except my friend Eliza’s house. Even she doesn’t know exactly how many times Kyle and I have gotten into arguments. How many times he’s made me cry. How many times I’ve had doubts about his reliability and faithfulness. The number of times we were ‘on a break’ in the short four months because he couldn’t fully commit.
The number of times I caught him leaving the room to text someone else then immediately put his phone face down.
Red flags.
Red flags.
Red.
Flags.
Kyle doesn’t deserve me.
I know this.
I know he’s a bag of shit, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I stare out the window, wondering if I only dated him in the first place because he’s a popular member of the football team—it’s not like he’s winning any awards for his humor and personality. Kid can’t hold a conversation to save his soul, but he sure is pretty to look at.
Big muscles. Handsome face.
Everyone knows him, not just here but nationwide.
Kyle is going places, most likely to the NFL.
Honestly, our whole relationship was like high school 2.0, and I was foolish enough to get caught up in that fame trap. Hate to admit it, but some might consider me a jock chaser, despite my own popularity and status on the cheer team.
Kyle was not a good fit for me; he made me feel insecure about myself, my intelligence, and my body, and it took his cheating to snap me out of the rose-colored daze.
I bust my ass; I work out and work hard to earn and keep my position as a cheerleader for the university, but something about the way he treated me always made me feel…inferior. Always made me feel like I had to work harder to keep him than he had to work for me.