Page 12 of The Love You Fight For
My jaw drops, and I blink at her.
“I hate you.”
She lets out a laugh and shakes her head.
“Well, I love you, and I’m just being a concerned friend. My phone is never on silent, but it hasn’t rung lately...”
I sigh and take a sip of my disgusting beer. Fucking Chris. I hate IPAs. He gave me this to fuck with me. I take another sip and pretend it’s a cocktail.
“I’m fine, Len. I’ll be fine, I promise. I just need to get laid. I’m all wound up and Pilates isn’t doing it right now.”
She snorts a laugh.
“Yes, because fucking some rich wanker whom you abhor is so much better than therapy.”
I smirk at her.
“It sure doesn’t hurt.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, then scans me again. I smile brightly and move through some flash poses. I give her a kissy face. I wink comically. I vogue. She giggles and throws a bar napkin at me.
“Are you really here just to hang out?” she asks finally. I furrow my brow and shrug. She sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll take what I can get.”
She doesn’t press. She won’t. Not here, anyway. But tonight, when we’re in the privacy of her bedroom, just the two of us, I’ll probably have to tell her the truth.
Most of it, at least.
“Spill.”
Lennon throws herself next to me onto her freshly made bed. She’s wearing pajama shorts and a too large The Black Keys shirt that must be Macon’s. I heard him shuffling about in the apartment a few minutes ago, but it’s quiet out there now. He’s probably retired to his studio for the night since Lennon kicked him out of the bedroom.
I drop my head back on the pillow and sigh.
“I have a meeting tomorrow.”
I don’t tell her more than that. I want to—god, do I want to—but I can’t. She nods in understanding before pivoting topics.
“Saw the senator’s announcement. How’s it feel to be the future first daughter of the United States?”
I roll my eyes. My father put out an official announcement regarding his presidential bid on social media this afternoon. It wasn’t really a surprise to anyone, but I’m glad I’m not in D.C. this weekend so I can avoid the fanfare. He’s sure to be strutting about like an insufferable peacock.
“Riveting,” I deadpan, and Lennon snorts a laugh. “He’s summoned all of us for a press conference on Tuesday. My motherand Chase will be flying in on Monday for it. We are to behave like a happy and supportive family, et cetera.”
Lennon hums. “When was the last time you saw Chase?”
I have to think about it for a moment. I count back the months, bypassing every holiday and family gathering from which Chase was absent until I find a memory that includes him.
“I think it’s been over three years,” I say finally. “He was back in the States for a few months, staying in D.C., but then he did something stupid that my father probably had buried, and Chase was sent to ‘do mission work’ in South Africa. Allegedly.”
Lennon scoffs. She knows it’s all a big farce. My older brother is a fucking disaster. As toxic and problematic as they come. He’s always getting himself involved in unsavory and reprehensible things, and my father is always cleaning up his messes.
“I hate all of them,” I say pointedly.
There’s not even any venom in my statement. I’ve uttered it so many times that it’s lost its bite. At this point, it’s just a matter of fact. An undeniable subset of my reality. Ihateevery member of my immediate family. It just is what it is.
Lennon grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I know. Me too.”
