“Care to share what’s so funny?” I ask, flipping the visor down.
She shakes her head from side to side without looking up at me. “It’s nothing.”
“Come on, share. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Well, if I tell you, then you’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to think that anyway,” I joke, but I’m being sort of serious.
She sighs, disheartened, and raises her head up. Tears stain her blue eyes and I have a hard time telling if they’re from the laughter or if she was crying while her head was down. She dabs the corners of her eyes with her fingertips and blinks the tears back.
“It’s just that… this is the most fun that I’ve had in a long time.” She shakes her head like she’s disappointed with herself. “Which is just silly.”
“It’s not silly,” I say, resisting the urge to wipe her tears away. “I think it’s fun, and trust me, I’m not silly at all.” I flash a grin at her.
She gazes at me intently. “No, you kind of are, but in a good way.”
I’m not sure how to respond to her since it seems like she’s being genuine, but genuine about my being silly. “Lila, there’s actually a reason why I brought you out here.”
She pushes the truck into park and presses down on the parking break before rotating in the seat to face me. “I figured as much.”
“I just want to know what your plans are,” I say, staring at the sky. The sun is setting and the lights of the city in the far distance illuminate the skyline.
“Plans for what?” She sounds confused.
I focus my attention on her. “Just with stuff.”
“You’re already getting sick of me, aren’t you? Look, Ethan, I can totally move out. I have a few friends I can stay with until I find somewhere else.”
“And how are you going to pay for this other place?” I ask. “And who are these other friends you’ll be staying with? Guy friends?” Why the hell did I just ask that?
“Hey, I have other friends.” She presses her hand to her chest, offended. “You’re just my favorite.” She’s not joking when she says that, and for some reason it makes me happy and also makes me mentally roll my eyes at myself.
“That doesn’t answer how you can pay for your own place,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt.
She tips her chin down and twists the platinum ring on her finger. “I have no idea.”
I reach over and fix my finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “Hey, you’re totally taking me wrong here anyway. All I want to talk about is our plans for moving forward.”
“Our plans?” she asks, assessing me with skepticism.
“Yeah, you and I and the place we now both call home,” I explain, removing my finger from her chin.
“Oh, you want me to start paying rent.” She frees a trapped breath.
“Yes and no… I know you’re going to probably need a little more time to heal and what not, but I think we should probably discuss how this is going to work a little further down the road.” I flip the handle of the door, hating to say it but knowing it has to be said. “Like maybe when you’re feeling better, you could get a job and start helping out.” I’m trying to be subtle, but it’s hard. “I just think that maybe if you were doing just a little bit more stuff, like working and finding some kind of hobby, things might be a little easier.”
“I know that,” she says quietly, her brow puckering as she stares at the scars on her wrist. I asked her once where they came from and she said it was from something really stupid she did, which makes me wonder if she got them when she got the ankle one. “But I have no idea where to start.”
“I’ll help you,” I assure her, reaching over and giving her knee a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to let you go at this alone. And when you’re ready, we can talk more… about anything that you want to. I’m an excellent listener.”
“I know you are.” She stares at me for an eternity, searching my eyes, like she doesn’t quite believe I’m real. When she finally opens her mouth, I have no idea what she’s going to say. “Thank you.” She unlocks her seat belt and leans over, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I’m stunned. Despite all the touching we’ve done, this feels different. More intimate and personal and I realize that despite the fact that we’ve touched each other in places most friends don’t, we’ve never actually kissed each other, a real passionate, lips-devouring kiss. And I want to kiss her so much it takes a lot of inner strength to keep my hands to myself. My instincts shout for me to jump out of the truck and run through the desert back to the apartment, far, far away from her. But the need to help her keeps me in the seat. I need to help her, like I didn’t help London. This is my second chance to get things right and I want to make things right with Lila and with us. It’s an overpowering, binding, magnetic feeling, one I’m unsure what to do with other than keep going.
When she leans back in the driver’s seat, the look on her face is unreadable. “What do we do now?”
I shrug and then my mouth turns upward. “How about we go home and watch a sappy, poetic movie?”
“Home?” She says it like it’s unreal, like homes don’t exist. “Yeah, let’s go home.” She opens the door and jumps out into the sand, then turns around and aims a finger at me. “But you’re driving. I’m so flipping scared I’m going to wreck your truck.” She blows me a kiss and then slams the door, acting just like the Lila I met a year ago, only she’s not because the Lila I met never really existed. She was a mirage created by pills.
Strangely enough, I’m not the same person when I met her because what I’m doing right now—what I’m feeling at this exact moment—is something I never thought I’d do or feel. Dependency—the thing I hate. I’ve seen it in action, through drugs and through relationships, like my mom’s dependency for my dad, but I’m letting her be dependent on me, and in a weird way, I’m kind of relying on her to let me help her and trusting her to get better.
Even though she’s been a pain in the ass for the last few days, the thought of Lila moving out, living with another friend, annoys me. I kind of want her to live with me and that leaves me confused because it means that for the first time since London, I want someone to be in my life. I want Lila, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.
Chapter Ten
Lila
I’ve been living with Ethan for two weeks and I’ve been pill free for two days, not even taking my half pills anymore. It’s a strange feeling, one I’m still adjusting to and learning how to handle. I’d never realized how altered things would get when I was popping pills. Even the heat of the sun feels a little more blistering. Plus, I haven’t slept with anyone. I think it’s a record for me. Even when I dated guys, like my fleeting relationship with Parker a year ago, the relationship was based solely on sex that I barely felt, barely remembered. This has been my life since the first time I had sex. Even then, I had no idea what I was getting into, and when I finally did, it was too late. The things that happened forever changed who I was and how I saw things. I’ve pretty much never looked at guys the same way since, except for Ethan. He’s a genuinely nice guy, which is rare, and makes our situation complex. Ethan and I have always had an interesting relationship, one that’s pushed the boundaries of friendship yet hasn’t quite crossed it. Now that we spend so much time together we barely touch each other, despite the fact that we’re constantly defying friendship boundaries. Like when he walked into the bathroom while I was taking a shower this morning.