“Help yourself.”

He moves closer, and we start to eat together. I watch him while I’m chewing, and suddenly I can’t

help but smile.

No, he’s no stranger to me. I have no idea what he is to me, but one thing that the shock just now

made me realize is that he means a lot more than I was aware of before. Because a tiny, completely

irrational part of me actually loved the idea of being with him. And that part is super curious as to what

that would be like. The rational part of me can’t even imagine, though.

Has he ever actually been in a serious relationship? Is he even capable of it? How would that work

when we have absolutely nothing in common?

Crap. This is absurd. I’m going to stop thinking about it right now. I force myself to look away, take

another fork full of veggies, and let my gaze wander through the room. And then I absolutely freeze.

Casey is standing in the open door, looking at us from across the room. I have no idea how long he’s

been there, but my guess is for quite a while.

I slowly raise my hand and wave for him to come over. But he just stands there and looks at me, with

a completely unreadable expression on his face. Then he turns around and leaves.

When I turn my head to look at Danny again, his eyes are narrowed slightly as he is looking past me.

It takes me a second to realize he’s staring at the spot where Casey had been standing. And that barely

visible, victorious subzero smile on his lips gives me the creeps.

Chapter 6

Addictive

NICK: The ceiling is still white. It was white an hour ago when I collapsed back on my bed, and it’s

still white as snow now. The only time that it might have been anything other than white were those few

times I remember blinking. Otherwise it’s been white the whole time.

I can hear people out in the hallway. Hell, I even recognize some of their voices. They could

probably come in here if they wanted, I’m pretty sure the door isn’t locked. Nothing I could do about it

either if they did. I tried moving a few minutes ago I think, and my entire body is like a giant pile of

lead. I couldn’t even get my head off the bed. That’s… sort of funny, really.

Oh, and I thought of something really damn funny a while ago. My parents sent me to a shrink back

when I was eleven. They were just starting to go through their divorce and they wanted to make sure I

got through it okay. Shitty thing to do to a kid, yeah.

He told me that I have an “addictive personality” - can you believe it? Eleven years old! With my

parents sleeping in different beds and shouting at each other all the time. Like I cared about addictive

personalities. God, that shrink was such an asshole. Three sessions and I refused to go back. I’ll never

go to another one again.

Guess he sort of knew what he was talking about though, cuz look at me now!

This all started back in high school. And I wouldn’t even be thinking about these things if I wasn’t

high as a kite right now. Damn, that was some good shit I took. Anyway, yeah, been screwed up for a

while now. It’s never been a bad thing before.

But now, and here’s the hilarious part - and if I was more together I’d be crying I’d be laughing so

hard - I’m addicted to Rizzo.

Rizzo!

I manage to close my eyes at the thought of him, and suddenly it’s earlier today and I’m back in his

room, covered with sweat and his body.

* * *

We’re screwing in his bed, and he’s been teasing me for what seems like hours before finally pushing

into me, his forehead pressed against my shoulder, breath panting across my skin and drying the sweat

there. I can feel the shape of his lips, and that tiny little thing makes me even harder.

But something in the way he’s touching me - the way it’s different than it has been before… I realize

(and it’s like someone kicking me in the goddamn head) I’m not the one he’s fucking right now.

I almost push him off me, I’m so angry. I don’t care who he sleeps with - it’s not like that with us.

But he’d damn well better pay attention to me when we’re doing this.

He’s still moving though. And I still can’t believe the things he does… I can feel my brain almost

leaking out my ear it’s so good. But in the second before I lose all capability to think, it’s all clear. I

know who I’m “playing understudy” for.

And then - oh hell - Rizzo’s curving his body against mine, and I’m completely gone.

* * *

I flop back on the bed and turn my face half into the pillow when we’re done, trying to breathe slower.

I’m going to need to stay like this for a while before I’m able to get up. I have no bones and no muscles,

but I really don’t give a shit right now.

That’s when he laughs at me, and I’m satisfied that the asshole sounds at least a little winded.

“You’re taking up my whole bed, Keller. Move your scrawny ass over.” I feel a jab in my ribs, but it

isn’t that hard, so I know he’s not actually upset.

“Screw you, Rizzo. I’m not moving for a while.” I laugh. “Besides, I was under the impression that

you enjoyed my scrawny ass.” The memory of him thinking of someone else jumps back into my brain

and I stop laughing.

I feel the bed shift and fingers on my skin before one of my earrings is tugged - almost too hard. I

wince into the cotton of the pillowcase before he heaves himself up, making some soft comment about

baby goths invading his bed. I manage to raise my arm enough to flip him off, my hand hovering in

midair even after I’ve delivered my message.

There’s a familiar sound that I can’t quite place, and he laughs again on a breathy exhale. I realize he

must’ve gone across the room because I can hear him coming back towards the bed now. I open my

eyes to see him standing there in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, denim and skin, smoking a cigarette and

making it look completely incredible. He takes another drag and reaches over to wrap my fingers

around it. My skin gives a little shiver even at that contact, but I try not to show it. I lift that hand to my

mouth, take a long, grateful drag, and blink. Looking past his legs I see my black jeans thrown over a

chair, the corner of a pack sticking out of the front pocket.

“Asshole,” I say, but there’s no heat to it and he grins down at me. I finally let my arm fall and it

drapes across my ribcage, the still-lit cigarette threatening to drop from my fingers. He takes it back

before I do drop it, crossing back to his desk where he leans while he finishes it off. I can feel his gaze

on me even when I look down to rub at a nipple piercing that got flipped around earlier when I yanked

my shirt off. Done with that, I close my eyes again and sigh. I can still feel him watching me - it crawls

against my skin. I swallow against the rising lump in my throat that I don’t want to acknowledge.

“Riz-”

“You can’t stay,” he says, and I nod to myself. I knew it was going to be one of these days.

“I’ve got-”

“Plans. I know.” You bastard. My voice doesn’t shake, something I’m glad for, but it’s colder than

I’d meant it to be. I push myself up from the bed, ignoring the unsteady way the room turns. I don’t

know if it’s from my change in position or from something else, and I don’t particularly care. I spot my

boxers on the floor a few feet away and begin the awkward process of re-collecting my clothing. I

always hate it, and it doesn’t put me in a good mood, no matter how amazing a lay Rizzo is.

“You always going to do that now?” I ask him when I’m dressed again. We don’t talk much, not

about anything serious at least, and I’m not sure what makes me ask this now. He pulls a shirt on to