Addicted for Now by Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie Page B

fly trap for suspects.”
    Surprisingly, he risks his wrinkle-free, steam-pressed
khakis to sit down on the bed beside me. Our canopy net tangles in his leg, and
he curses under his breath, swatting the fabric away. “I swear I’m going to cut
this stupid thing down.”
    “I like it.” Even if I got caught in the net like a praying
mantis last night. I roll sometimes when I sleep. It happens.
    “We’re not in a jungle trying to ward away bugs.”
    “Rose designed the room,” I remind him. She decorated it
while Lo was away at rehab. “She’ll be hurt if I change it because of you.”
    “Even better,” he says. I doubt he believes that.  
    “I’m going to forget what you just said,” I mutter and
swivel the computer screen to him.
    Lo gapes. “You had to use that photo as my profile picture?”
    I break into a wide smile, and I can’t stop staring at the
photo. He’s shirtless except for a pair of Spider-Man pajama pants. He looks
sexy and cool.
    The website consumes his attention, and he scrolls through
the profiles of old students. “Married, married, pregnant, dead, engaged, pregnant,
married,” he lists. “Did anyone stay in their twenties after high school or did
everyone just pass GO to collect a 401k and diapers?”
    “Maybe they’re in love,” I defend.
    “We’re in love. You don’t see us getting married or having
babies.”
    I frown, not sure why this hurts me a little. Marriage isn’t
really a plan of mine, at least not until I’m older and move past this awkward,
confusing stage of life. But the way Lo said those words—well, they make
marriage seem nonexistent. Like instead of a maybe , he’s saying never.
    “You don’t want to get married?” I ask softly. I can barely
meet his gaze. I’m twenty, just stepping out of my teens. I shouldn’t worry
about marriage and babies, especially not when we’re struggling being healthy
ourselves.
    He hesitates. “I don’t know. I’m not closing that door. I
just can’t think about it.” He pauses. “Do you…think about it?” He frowns
deeply, worried that we’re not on the same track. We usually are, and it’s kind
of terrifying to see him veer off without me.
    “Not a lot,” I say. “Before I was with you, I never thought
I’d be married.” I slept with random guys. I thought monogamy wasn’t a
lifestyle I could ever conform to.   Now
that I’m starting to find a good groove, I’m beginning to fantasize about
normality.
    “But now you do?” he asks.
    I shrug. “I guess but definitely not anytime soon. I want to
get through the terrible twenties first.” I wave my hand. “Let’s not talk about
marriage or having babies. It’s stupid anyway. We have more important things to
deal with.”
    I didn’t think it was possible, but his face contorts more,
even graver than before. “You want kids?”
    Oh…I can tell just by the way he says it that he doesn’t
want them. A lump rises to my throat, and I feel like this is going to be a
trick question. I look over my shoulder for the right answer but it’s not
concealed there. “Umm…” I mumble. “I don’t know.”
    He blinks, watching me as I watch him. The answers seem to
spill out of our silence.
    “Maybe,” I blurt out, not able to hold back any longer. “When
I’m older but not too old, I guess. My eggs are on a clock.” I nod and then
grimace. “I mean, you know…” I am two seconds from burrowing underneath the
comforter and never coming out. Hide,
Lily, hide! My face flames. I really wish my feelings weren’t so visible.
    “Lil,” Lo breathes, his eyes softening considerably. I am
one of those sea vessels wobbling in the ocean before they’re hit by a wave.
“You…and me…” Here it is. “We probably shouldn’t have children.”
    I stare blankly at the black and white comforter, gathering
my thoughts. I never allowed myself to dream that far ahead, to construct a
reality where Lo and I start a family together. Maybe because deep in my