Page 6 of The Home Grown
I worry my lip, trying not to throw up.
Vicky, Johnny’s sister, occasionally helps with public relations alongside her social media and photography gig. If anyone can help, it’s her—not to mention she’s got a fiery personality that I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of.
But not even Vicky can undo the damage this has already done.
The internet never forgets, doesit?
“Nah, if you take it down—people might think there’s truth in it,” Danny says, causing my stomach to fall out of my ass.
He reaches for his phone and frowns at the screen before tossing it back onto his shelf.
Case in point.
“What the hell do I do?” I’m frantic. Actually raging. Because there’s no truth in it, but people don’t think like that—they assume the worst. They leap to conclusions. And I’m hardly the type of person who thinks before he acts. I’m spontaneous. Reckless. And now it’s biting me in the ass—hard.
And we all know that people love to gossip.
“I’ll speak with Vicky,” Johnny says. “And probably Kirsty from HR to see how we can approach this.”
Great. PR and HR. Which only means a fucking mess. And this is all my fault.
“But you know it’s not true, right, Cap?” I plead with Johnny.
He nods and pats me on the back. “Of course, bud. Try not to worry about it.”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes, but I can’t place it. Does he believe me? Because I couldn’t handle Johnny thinking of me as a liar—he’s the only one with any sense in this place. Probably why I wasn’t all that pissed off to learn he’s seeing my sister.
He’s the one guy I fully trust.
I sit down in my cubby and spiral into a rabbit hole of self-pity.
How did I get myself in this mess? How did I?—
Then it comes to me.
Sex. It all comes down to sex.
All of this is a result of my desperation for sex.
But there’s no way I’m letting this happen again. Not if I can help it.
“That’s it. I’m never having sex again,” I announce to the room. “It only leads to a world of pain.”
That’s when the laughing starts. I look around, and despite everyone being half-dressed, I win the attention of the room.
“You’re joking, right?” Hutch, my roommate, says.
“No. I am not. My dick is staying firmly in my pants for the foreseeable—except for when I need to take a piss. Actually, I’m not even wanking anymore. Because you never know?—”
“Stop. We’ll fix it,” Johnny says, a voice of reassurance.
But I mean it. I’m off sex. What’s the point anyway?
“C’mon, mate. Try to forget about it for now,” Danny says. “We’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”
“I guess if the end is nigh, I may as well go out with a bang … but without an actual bang.”
Danny rolls his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
