Kiss the Sky (20 page)

Now they’re here.

Smiling.

I’m usually not so sentimental. But watching my sister go
from lying to broken to halfway-okay has moved me in immeasurable ways.

It’s easier to be born strong than to find a strength that
you never thought existed. For that, I believe she has more courage and prowess
than I could ever possess.
 

My eyes linger on them before I start searching for Connor
again. I find Daisy first, entertaining my mom with a few head nods. While
Loren steals one of Lily’s meatballs off her plate,
Ryke
watches Daisy from across the room, his smile fading and his features hardening
in concern.

None of the guys like when we surround ourselves with our
mother for long. I really don’t want Daisy around her for more than an hour or
two. Mom sucks our energy dry, but that’s just her abrasive, all-consuming
personality. Even if you never get used to it, you just have to deal.

When I finally spot Connor, all the built-up fuzzy, warm
(generally foreign) feelings I had are replaced by annoyance.

I watch as my boyfriend greets a younger guy by hugging him
and slapping him on the back in a typical bro-hug. It is
so
out of Connor Cobalt’s nature—his true self that I know and
love.

My heels clap loudly on the marble floor as I strut towards
him. I tip the rest of my champagne in my mouth and set the empty glass on a
tray before I land by his side.

“Richard,” I say with heated eyes. I don’t care if I look
like a bitch. That’s the point. I am who I am. Why can’t he just let people see
the real him? Who cares if people don’t like him?

“There you are, babe,” Connor says, hooking his arm around
my waist. He nods to his friend. “Patrick, you know Rose, right?”

“We’ve never been formally introduced,” Patrick says. He
holds out his hand. “Patrick
Nubell
.”

I don’t shake it. “As in
Nubell
Cookies?” It makes sense. Connor doesn’t schmooze anyone. He has to have a
reason to give you his time. Money and prestige are two important factors.
Nubell
sits just below Kraft (Oreos) and Keebler on the
marketplace. Though
Nubell
cookies are more natural
and less appetizing.

 
Patrick laughs and
drops his hand, realizing I’m not going to shake it. He doesn’t seem affronted.
Maybe he’s heard of my reputation. In these social circles, I am frequently
called an ice queen.

“Yeah, it’s my great-great-grandfather’s company,” he
explains. “You probably know how that is. People always asking you which flavor
of Fizz you like the best. Well, I get
do
you prefer nugget or cinnamon
.”

I stay quiet, which leaves Connor the opportunity to say,
“Definitely, man.” He nods like he is entranced with this nugget/cinnamon
conversation.

Sure, I could probably relate to Patrick on some level, but
now is not the time for bonding. I have—I check my watch—four minutes until the
show airs. And I need a pep talk. Preferably from Connor Cobalt and not the
twat he has impersonated.

“Could you give us a minute, Patrick?” I ask now.

“Yeah, of course.” He leaves, probably searching for someone
as young as him in the middle-aged crowd.

When I turn to Connor his eyes drop to mine. “That hurt me
just as much as you,” he says immediately. “Trust me, I had to use the word
killer
and
dude
in the same fucking sentence.”

“You didn’t
have
to do anything,” I retort. “And
babe
,
really?” I smack his arm. “And you gave
him a bro-hug, Connor. Who are you?” I don’t give him time to answer because I
know it will be something profoundly aggravating. “And what were you doing with
Nubell
Cookies? Are you trying to partner with them?
That sounds like a fantastic idea. Put magnets in the tins and make everyone
sick.”

I finish my rant and he full-on grins. But it’s different
this time.

He smiles at me like every word I said was special. Like
they belonged to him and me.

“What?” I snap, but my voice softens when I see the look in
his eye that says I mean everything to him.

He intertwines his fingers with mine and draws me to his
chest, “Nothing, darling.” His breath warms my ear as he leans down. “You look
gorgeous in that dress. Is it yours?”

Is it yours?
He’s
asking if I designed it. I nod.

He brushes my hair off my shoulder as I inhale strongly. His
fingers run across the black fabric with studs on the collar, and he skims my
neck with an even lighter touch.

“As gorgeous as it is,” he says, “I’m going to love taking
it off you tonight.” He kisses my cheek, and I have to look around the room at
all the faces to remember we’re in public.

With hundreds of people.

My emotions have suddenly calmed, and as Connor squeezes my
hand, I realize why.

Lo is right. He has a gift.

The countdown on the screen ticks down from ten.

Ten seconds.

That’s all it takes to decide whether this show will fail.

Ten stupid seconds.

* * *

Thirty minutes in, and it’s not looking so good.

Beside me at the screening party, Lily shields her eyes with
her hand, peeking beneath as we watch the train wreck that is our lives. The
six of us have congregated in solidarity by the fucking potted plant as the
show continues playing. Scott chooses to stand beside my parents, whispering
things to my mother, and she laughs with sincerity.

Connor’s eyes flicker from the television screens to Scott
and my parents every so often. I can tell he’d like to go interject and break
up Scott’s ploy to make nice with my mother and father, but he stays here. With
me. And I appreciate that more than he knows.

We already watched the psychic disaster, and then I endured
a five-minute clip where Daisy popped wheelies on her Ducati. She revved the
bike too hard, and she slid off the back of the seat and ate it. Instead of
crying, she picked up her motorcycle that rode off without her, and she tried
again.

After watching that, our mother looked ready to storm over
to us and scold her in front of everyone. The only thing that stopped her was
the two-hundred onlookers.

I finish my second glass of champagne and snatch another one
before the server darts away. The interview segments are the most interesting
part of
Princesses of Philly.
None of
us have seen each other’s tapes. Scott would stand behind Savannah’s camera,
conducting the interviews in our study, the walls lined with books. And he’d
dictate questions to her to ask us—just so his voice wouldn’t be recorded. God
forbid anyone knows he’s orchestrating the show.

“Lily and Lo f**k a
lot,”
Ryke
says, each f-bomb bleeped accordingly. He
sits on a brown leather chair. “If we had to rank who’s getting the most, it’d
be my brother, his girlfriend, then maybe Connor Cobalt and his hand.”

Beside me, Connor grins and sips his wine, finding
Ryke’s
comment more amusing than I would.

Ryke’s
eyes float towards the door that opens.

Daisy peeks her head
through, walking straight in. “I need you out front for a second,” she says.
“What was the last question? If it’s important, I can come back later.”

Ryke
stands. “No it’s fine.”

I don’t like where this is headed. Why would this be shown?

We hear Savannah’s
voice but can’t see her. “He was ranking who has the most sex in the house. How
would you rank everyone?” Savannah asks.

Daisy’s face lights up
with a smile.

“Don’t answer her,”
Ryke
says.

“Lily and Lo,” Daisy
ignores him with a playful grin. She bounces on her feet like she drank way too
much caffeine. “They f**k a lot.”

Ryke
rolls his eyes.

By the potted plant, Daisy apologies to Lily, “I’m so
sorry.” And then her eyes flicker between
Ryke
and
Lo. “Please don’t get upset.” She directs that mainly to Lo.

Lo turns to his brother and just gives him a deep glare.
“How many shades of inappropriate are we about to see?”

“Fifty,”
Ryke
quips, his lips
slowly rise and we all burst into laughter, despite the show still playing.
People stare at us like they missed something on screen. They didn’t. But
finding the humor in our lives is much better than reliving the bad parts.

“And then who?”
Savannah asks Daisy.

Ryke
stares down at Daisy with a hard glare.
“Don’t answer her.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t get that
far.”

Daisy grins like she’s
excited to be the first to divulge the information. She spins around and stares
right at the
viewers
[the camera] and
Ryke
grabs her around the waist to stop her from speaking.
But she says, “I’m totally getting more ass than
Ryke
Meadows.”

She laughs as she
squirms in his hold.

“She’s not getting
more ass than me,” he says. He tries to pull her into his arms and turn her
away from the camera. But she spins around quickly again and plants her hands
on his chest.

“Oh yeah? I have a boyfriend.
What do you have?”

“A six-pack and big
f**king c*ck.”

The crowd breaks into loud talk at that. Loren’s eyes flash
murderously at his brother. And
Ryke
just shakes his
head at himself.

Connor can’t stop laughing.

Daisy tries to wrestle
with him again, and her shirt rises on her waist, revealing a purplish bruise
on her hip.
Ryke
goes incredibly still, and Daisy
stops moving as her face falls.

“It’s nothing,” she
says quickly. “Come on, I need you out front.”

We all turn on Daisy who has taken a seat on the floor,
texting in solitude. She’s ignoring us on purpose. And I wonder…

When I gave Daisy pepper spray, it seemed like she was
keeping a secret with
Ryke
. I completely forgot about
that, and so I never badgered them for the information. I think I’m finally
going to get some answers, and they’re just going to be handed to me. No work
involved. Look, the show has another perk. Who would have thought?

“Hey.” Lo nudges Daisy’s back with his foot. “What the fuck
is going on?”

“It’s taken care of,” she says noncommittally, fixed to her
phone.

Lo glances at
Ryke
. “Why didn’t
you say something?”

“Just fucking watch,”
Ryke
says.
“It doesn’t matter now. They’re airing it.”

Connor sips his wine. “Clearly you hoped they wouldn’t.”

“A part of me did, actually. But I was protecting that one…”
He leans behind his brother and points to Lily who has her head on
Lo’s
shoulder. “So give me a fucking break.”

“What? Me?” Lily points to her chest sheepishly. “I’m okay.”
But her voice is small. She’s had to see herself make out with Lo, and all of
us had a three-minute heated debate whether this was considered soft-core
porn—which she’s not allowed to watch.

Then Daisy off-handedly admitted to being a
porn-watcher—more to keep Lily from shrinking into herself in shame. And Lo
made a face like someone stabbed ice picks in his ears.

I’m immediately brought back into the show after hearing one
particular line from my sister:

“He threw something at
me.”

Ryke
breathes heavily. “It looks like he f**king
grabbed you.”

She pauses. “Can you
please come outside and I’ll explain.”

With locked shoulders,
Ryke
follows Daisy downstairs, into the living room,
and out the front door. When they reach the street, she leads him to her parked
Ducati on the curb. The taillights and headlights are busted. And the
handlebars are bent out of shape.

“What the f**k? Mother
****
ing
, piece of
sh
*t ****
**** ******* kidding me.” He glares. “Who f**king did this?”

“Some douchebag
downtown. I came out of
Lucky’s
, and he was smashing
my bike with his boot. He told me, and I quote, ‘Get out of here, you spoiled
c*
nt
of Philly.’”

Ryke
cringes at the one swear word I’ve never
heard him use. “It wasn’t your boyfriend?”

“No,” she says. “He
wouldn’t hurt me. I just…I was trying to get my bike back, and we had a bit of
a confrontation, hence the bruise. It’s nothing really. I was just glad the
paparazzi didn’t show up.”

Lily gapes. “They’re that angry at us for filming?” The fear
blinks in her eyes. If Philly locals did this to Daisy—then what the hell are
they going to do to my little sister whose sex addiction has been plastered on
national news?

The heckling—it’s not something I really thought about
before.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Daisy tells both of us.

But
Ryke’s
hardened jaw says
differently. On screen and off.

Ryke
inspects the damage on her bike, shaking
his head more and more. “We need to press charges.”

“I didn’t get his
name.”

“But you can describe
him to the police.”

She stays quiet.

“He f**king assaulted
you, Daisy. He’s not getting away with this
sh
*t.”

“I don’t want to cause
more trouble, really. Let’s just forget about it.”

“You want me to
f**king forget about it?” His eyes fall to her waist where he saw the bruise.
And then he stands and tries to pull her shirt up.