Page 77 of Whatever It Takes
“Zero,” he says, “but I don’t know what you’ll fucking do.”Wait…what?
I frown. “Why would you think that I’d want to break up with her? I’mworriedabout her breaking up with me.”
“That broken heart fucking thing,” Ryke says.
Shiiiiiit.
My mouth falls in realization. I filled out that questionnaire months ago, but maybe it’s been in the back of their minds. “You saw my Tumblr questionnaire?” Frustration surges. “How? You don’t evenuseTumblr. You’re internet inept!”
“Fuck you.”
Loren interjects, “It’s true.”
Ryke glowers at Lo. “I know how to use Facebook.”
“Facebook is stupid, man,” I say. “It’s like the ugly stepchild of Tumblr.” But right now, I’m not feeling great things about Tumblr either. It’s easier liking the internet when it isn’t cruel to you, and I’ve seen Willow and her family pressed underneath the weight of it. Like everything, I just think maybe there are good and bad parts of it.
Ryke wears a confusedI don’t know what you’re talking aboutexpression like I just spoke an intergalactic language. Loren laughs.
“Honestly,” I say, “did you stumble on it or something?”
“Or something,” Loren replies.Fuuuuck.That could only mean one thing.
I glare at the sky. “Daisy showed you?”
Ryke scowls. “Leave her fucking out of it.”
“Whatever,” I say into a big breath. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I don’t feelgreatabout where I left things with Willow when she was in Philly.”
Loren drills me with one of his iconic glares, a hell of a lot sharper than Ryke’s. Which only confirms my suspicions.
“Great. She told you.”That we had sex.
“Yep,” Loren says.
Ryke adds, “And don’t you dare fucking yell at her about it. We’re her brothers.”
That hurts. “I’d never…I wouldn’t yell at Willow for anything…” I’m not that guy.
Ryke’s eyes soften.
Loren is still glaring.
“If you’re that fucking worried,” Ryke says, “there’s a solution right in front of your face.”
“What?” I ask.
“Visit Willow,” Ryke suggests. “Go to London. You don’t have to fucking move there. Just see her for a week or two weeks.”
Loren nods. “You’ll both feel better.”
They must not know that Willow and I have an agreement that I won’t visit her until next semester. I worry about being the needy boyfriend, the one that doesn’t give her space to succeed on her own. Anyway, she’ll be back in Philly for Winter Break, so if I fly out before then, I will, one-hundred-percent, seem like the overbearing one.
So the best I can say is something noncommittal. Because that’s how I feel right now.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
* * *
