NINE
“I don’t think you understand how it looks,” Curtis said.
They were in the empty office, seated in swivel chairs, facing each other. Lyla was watching the way their hands laced together between Curtis’ parted knees. His fingers weren’t as long or strong as Trick’s were.
“I know you’re worried,” she said and smiled at him when he slid one of his hands out of hers and on to the side of her neck. “You’re my friend, Curt, you know how I feel about you. I would be worried about you too.”
“He’s using you. They’re all using you.”
She understood why it was difficult for him to understand the experience of living in a reality TV show, she hadn’t understood it either.
“It’s okay,” Lyla said, smiling to reassure him. “It’s just the way it is.”
“I can’t stand by and let you be hurt,” Curti
