Page 11 of Escaping Our Reality

Her eyes flare, immediately ready to give me a dose of my own medicine. “Why does everyone call you that? Is that not your name?”

“My name is Ryland. But no one calls me that. It’s just Crutch.”

“Ryland.” The second she says my name, my dick jumps in my jeans, and I quickly shove my bottle down in front of my crotch. “Alright, Ry, it is.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. I twist the chair beside me in her direction. “Have a seat, Lulu, and you can tell me why you’re really here.”

She tries not to smile. Really, she does. And then, she tries to hide it behind her glossy hair. But I see it nonetheless.

She sits down in the cheap lawn chair, folding the wrist wallet against her hand and picking at the label on her empty beer bottle.

“Here,” I reach down beside me to the bottle of water I haven’t opened yet. “Seal’s not open. Want it?”

Nodding, she takes the bottle from me and her fingers brush against mine. Her touch burns my skin. She’s even more beautiful up close. If her hair is maple syrup, then her eyes are honey. Light brown, circled with a dark brown, almost blackcolor. Her skin is olive toned and she has a small freckle above the right side of her upper lip.

A lip that would look great around my—

“So, do you know a lot of people here?”

“I do. Unfortunately. Why are you here? You’re definitely not the normal kind of girl who comes to these parties.”

She twists open the lid, making sure the cap breaks. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She takes a long drink, watching me though squinted eyes.

“You’re not gonna make me say it, are you, Lulu? I think you’re too smart to pretend you don’t see the differences between you and the other girls you met inside.”

I’m rewarded with that pointy little nose lifting back up in the air. “I’m looking for my sister.”

“Who’s your sister?”

“Caroline Hill. Carrie Hill.”

The breath rushes from my lungs. “No shit? You’re Carrie’s sister?”

She eagerly pushes her body forward. Her eyelids sparkle with color. She probably spends more money each month on makeup than I spend on food and gas.

“You know her? You’ve met my sister?”

I nod. “I only met her once at a party here. I don’t come all the time, though, like some people. Most of the time I saw her going into the gas station. I work at the body shop across the parking lot.”

She collapses back against the chair, trying to hide the shock from her face. She doesn’t hide it very well, though, because she still looks like she stuck her tongue in an electric socket. Reaching up, she rubs the back of her neck. “You’re the guy from the gar—”

A shrill cry interrupts our conversation. “Crutch! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

It’s not like my brother owns a seven-bedroom mansion; this is a seven-hundred-square-foot mobile home. How hard did she really have to search?

“Hi, Amber.” I look past Amber, her jet-black hair, and visible red lace bra and nod to the friend trailing behind her, stumbling in high bliss. “Mandy.”

Lulu immediately hides the emotion on her face, squaring her shoulders.

Amber leans against the deck railing, jutting her leg out in front of her like a model posing for a photo shoot. Well, attempting to pose like a model for a photo shoot. It’s hard to do when you’re three sheets to the wind. She raises her cigarette to her lip right as a small gust of wind blows ash on her chest. Flicking it away, she stomps on it, kicking it across the wooden porch.

“What have you been up to? We missed you last weekend.” Her purr sounds more like a growl.

Mandy nods, enjoying the feel of the movement against her drugged-out brain.

I take a pull of my beer. “I’m sure you did.” I make it a point to never sleep with anyone from my side of town. I never have sex with someone who knows me, my family, or where I come from. So, she may have missed me. But she didn’tmissme.

She fake pouts. “Of course, I did. It’s not a party unless you’re here. Don’t you know you make everything better,” she says, lowering her voice a decibel.

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