Headstrong Like Us (Like Us 6)

I glared at the wall, face hot. “Jesus Christ.”

“Uh-huh, nothing’s off-limits.” She picked at her cuticles. “When we were younger, they liked how cute we were, then they liked our teenage fuck-ups, and now they eat up our sex lives. And it used to be easier ignoring them and rumors, because I wasn’t having sex. But now…” Her amber eyes met my green. “Do you ever think, what if they’re right? What if I could become addicted to sex, and they just see it before I do?”

I didn’t blink.

I wanted to be confident for Luna. If she asked me that same thing a year ago, I would’ve been assured and definite about my answer.

I’m in total control of my sex life. I’m not afraid of being a sex addict.

Things changed, and I’m in a relationship and I’ve completely trusted another person with my body. To the point where…the doubt is real and so is the fear. And I hate being that unsure about something so cataclysmic.

“I’ve thought about it,” I admitted to my sister. “But I think the important thing is to not let the media influence what goes on in your head.” Easier said than done. I knew that. But I reminded Luna, “You know who you are better than anyone. The media’s version of us isn’t totally accurate. It’s warped.”

Luna searched my face for strength. “I shouldn’t worry?”

I thought about what Farrow told me. The advice I’ve been struggling to follow. “Don’t obsess, do what you feel like, but be safe—and by that, I mean safe sex.”

She bit at her thumbnail and smiled. “I got that, Moffy. Condoms, birth control, galactic aluminum penetrative protectors.”

I winced. “God, that sounds painful.”

“It’s for the titanium species.” She pointed her toe at the fanfic on her laptop.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Do they eat metal too?” We chatted a while about her writing, and before I left, I stood up and put a loving hand on her head. “Have you talked to Mom about the sex addiction stuff?”

“Uh-uh, no.” She shut her laptop. “I would normally, but this isn’t…me asking about general sex addiction stuff. I don’t want her to feel bad knowing that I’m worrying about it. It’s easier just asking you.”

I nodded, understanding. “I love you, sis.”

Luna smiled. “Love you to planet Thebula and back.”

In the kitchen, right now, hearing my sister give advice to Ripley about listening to his heart—that’s a good thing.

Farrow and I are smiling too.

“Holy shit, are we going to eat?!” My brother shouts from the dining room.

“Hunger distress call,” Luna sing-songs and picks up the salad bowl, along with her energy drink. “We’re on our way!” She skips out of the kitchen.

Farrow gives me a look. “See, nothing to worry about.” He stands up with the baby in his arms. Still feeding Ripley. He’s really good at that. Annoyingly better than me, but if he asks, I’m the best. In the world.

I feign confusion. “Was I worried?”

His brows rise. “Yeah, you were. And we both just heard your sister imparting some strong-as-shit wisdom on the baby.” His shoulder brushes mine as he passes me for the dining room. Lips beside my ear, he adds, “You need to be okay with the other thing.”

The other thing?

He stares more intently. “They may not make it.”

My stomach twists, and I just shake my head. “They’ll be here.”

Farrow’s gaze softens. “You prepare yourself for everything, but you’re not going to prepare yourself for this?”

I don’t know how. Because if my mom and dad are no-shows, it means they’re doing worse than I believed. It means they’re breaking, and I’d rather not doubt them now.

I’d rather just face it if it comes.

“They’ll be here,” I say again.

We enter the dimly lit dining room in silence, and I make a detour as Farrow settles at the table across from Luna.

At the base of the staircase, I scream up, “KINNEY!”

I slide out my phone and check for any missed group chat messages. I read a couple texts from my cousins.

Our mom is freaking the fuck out – Eliot

We might actually see her die and resurrect as a ghost – Tom

Aunt Rose received her invitation in the mail, and she’s not happy about the dress code.

All white.

I can’t remember the last time my aunt wore anything other than black and deep, dark hues. Kinney’s also been giving me shit about it, but I warned her that if she showed up in black, she’d have to wait until she’s eighty before I invite her to a bar with me.

I click into the second group text.

More links for apartments in New York. This time from Jane. She’s pretty much fully New York or bust now.

I like the idea more and more of taking on New York with Charlie and Jane. It’ll be like old times when the three of us were in high school together.