Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(47)

I’ve met most of the girls before since the majority have grown up with Daisy since preschool, but I can’t recall half their names. The strawberry blonde with fair skin and a light layer of freckles is Daisy’s best friend: Cleo. Then there’s Harper, the Native American girl wearing a black-studded bikini. I can’t place the third girl that sits with us. She’s already so tan that anymore sun may cause her instant skin cancer. She also wears bright pink lip gloss that matches her neon-blue string bikini, ready to be inserted into a Katy Perry video.

Daisy slides closer to me on the couch. I notice that she wears a string bikini with tons of layered straps, the dark green color matching her eyes. “We need to get some snacks. I’m starving.”

At the command, a female server in a white shirt and black pants peels away from the sliding glass door. She hands Daisy a menu with tons of items and a line at the bottom says: if it’s not on the menu, ask us and we may be able to make it.

“I want chocolate,” Cleo says to the server. “How about…chocolate covered strawberries?”

The server nods. “Anything else?”

“I can’t have chocolate…so…” Daisy hums to herself as she slides her finger down the menu. Her features progressively darken, as though frustrated with what she can and cannot eat.

I practically feel Ryke seething beside me. But he needs to shut his trap. She doesn’t want chocolate, and he shouldn’t pressure her to eat it like he did at the Fizzle event.

I do have some sisterly sway, and I know there are some foods that will be good for her to eat. I lean closer and point to a tuna sandwich. “That’s healthy.”

“Mom said no mayo,” she says softly.

“Well, Mom isn’t here.” Jesus, my mother has seriously crossed a line somewhere. It’s Daisy’s birthday. Does she expect her not to eat cake too? That’s sacrilege.

Daisy stares off for a long second, thinking about the consequences of cheating, no doubt. She’s already a size 2 at 5’11’’ which is fucking madness, but until the high fashion industry stops seeking these types of girls, I don’t see my mother changing.

“Get the fucking sandwich,” Ryke tells her. “You’ll burn it off swimming.”

“Don’t do tuna,” Cleo suddenly says. “Your breath will reek.”

“Yeah, I hate the smell,” Harper agrees.

I already want to strangle them.

Daisy tenses at all the voices. She hands the menu back to the server. “I’ll have the tuna, thanks. My friends will have to deal with the smell.” She shoots Cleo a look. “It’s my birthday, after all.”

Cleo shrugs. “Just trying to warn you. What if we meet some hot local boy? You’re going to scare him off with bad breath.” God, they’re already planning on picking up guys. This just turned from slightly fun to terrifying. I hope I’ll be equipped to handle them. Please, let me be equipped.

“Even better,” Daisy says. “The guy will run over to you. See, I did you a favor.”

Cleo purses her lips and then her eyes slowly trail over to me. “So Lily…”

I brace myself.

“…How did you get so skinny? What are you, a size zero?”

Great, she asks me a question I’m not really sure how to answer. The truth—I spend more time consumed by sex than I do taking care of myself. In my defense, I am short. If Daisy became a size 0, she’d fade away and need to be hospitalized.

“She’s always been skinny,” Daisy answers for me with ease.

“You know, I’ve never been able to tell if guys are into the whole size zero skinny look,” Cleo says with a false politeness. She might as well have said “emaciated” instead of skinny. She has to know her words are beyond rude.

Her pretty blue eyes flash to Ryke, who’s pretending to be busy watching a basketball game on the hanging television. “Right, Ryke?”

His eyes stay glued to the screen as he confirms with a simple “yep.”

Cleo holds onto the word like it’s bait. “Are you into size zero girls?”

This is so fucking awkward! I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and Daisy lets out a long exasperated sigh. “Cleo—”

“What?” Cleo says with a nonchalant shrug. “I just want a male perspective on the situation. I only have younger sisters, okay? I’m curious.”

Ryke turns a fraction, his gaze still hidden behind wayfarers. “My brother loves her, so obviously some guys are into skinny girls. Everyone has a different preference.”

Harper interjects with a little too much eagerness. “What’s yours?”

I imagine he’s rolling his eyes right about now. Damn, sunglasses, I’d actually like to see him break in front of a few girls. How is he going to handle all twenty together?

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I like women. Big breasts, curvy waists, an ass I can grab.” He keeps steady, unflinching. I am cringing inside and slightly aghast that he even responded back. Daisy’s friends look around at each other, realizing that they all have tiny hips, decent-sized boobs and no butt.

Daisy scrutinizes Ryke for a while and then says, “How big of boobs?” Ohmygod.

“How about we change the subject?” I say.

“Big,” Ryke tells her.