Page 50 of Wilder Love
“For old time sake.” I smiled, remembering the night we’d gone up there for the first time, the night we’d moved in and our seventeenth birthday with Sienna. What the hell. I followed him to the door.
“You should end as you begin,” he said as we climbed the stairs to the roof.
“You’re getting philosophical in your old age.”
Out of habit, I looked across the street. Shane was home. So close and yet so far away. Was he alone or did he have a girl with him? What did it matter?
“So, you’re really going through with it?” Dylan asked, flicking his lighter. He inhaled, holding the smoke in his lungs and passed me the blunt.
I took a hit, hoping the high would blur all the edges and make me forget. Even though I knew it wouldn’t.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Looks that way. I think it will be good.” Modeling was a way out. It was money. I could support myself. It wasn’t my dream but since when did that matter?
“I never thought that would be something you’d want.”
It wasn’t. At first, I thought it was a scam but then I’d Googled the agency, and they seemed legit. One of the big ones. I emailed them. Then I went to LA for an interview and test shots. “You have the look we want.” Five-foot-nine, rail-thin with boobs that weren’t too big or too small. A face they claimed was symmetrical. I was photogenic. I was versatile. I was, in other words, a chameleon. Just like Rae St. Clair.
“We’ve both done plenty of things we never would have dreamed of doing,” I said, defending my decision.
“Yeah. I guess we have.” He pushed his tattooed fingers through his dark hair.
“So… college, huh?”
He shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Looks that way.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Made it through high school without ending up dead or in prison. That’s quite a feat for a St. Clair.”
We were quiet for a few minutes, contemplating his words. In some ways, we had a lot to be proud of. We’d survived. Had practically raised ourselves. We hadn’t given up. We weren’t quitters. He had picked me up off the floor and kicked my ass when I’d needed it. I’d like to think that I’d done the same for him over the years. Our mom was never coming back, we’d reconciled with that, but no matter where I went or where he was, I knew we still had each other. It was something. More than something.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Dylan said. His eyes narrowed as he took a hit off the joint.
The less he knew, the better. “It’s complicated.”
“Most things in our life are.”
“Yeah, about that… how about you tell me what’s going on with you.”
“What do you want to know?”
He looked relaxed, like he was open to answering anything I wanted to know. Which seemed unlikely. So many questions were off-limits. I wasn’t even allowed to mention Sienna’s name around him.
The metal door flew open and my heart skipped a beat. Until I saw who was on the other side of it.
“What the fuck is going on?” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“The bitch is back,” Dylan muttered.
“Dylan—”
He held up his hand and walked away. We both watched him leaving, the metal door closing behind him before Sienna slid down against the wall next to me. “I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing for Dylan.
She huffed out a laugh. “He’ll never speak to me again.”
I wished I could tell her differently. Dylan held grudges. He’d been hurt but so had she.
“I thought we were friends.” She sounded sad and I felt guilty for having ignored all her messages over the past couple months. “You just ghosted on me.”
