Free Spectacularly Broken by Sage C. Holloway

didn’t take a closer look at our flushed faces and notice our swollen lips or blissed-out expressions. Because I hadn’t checked in with Finn all day, I stopped by his room on the way to mine.
    “Oh, hi,” he said, opening the door wide and allowing me into what had once been his room but was now one giant walk-in closet. There were clothes everywhere—on the bed, on the table and the two chairs, hanging over the closet door and from the lampshade and wire hangers, lying on the floor. My heart started weeping.
    “When I told you to be careful with my stuff, this was not what I had in mind,” I whined.
    “Oh, calm down. I’m just sorting through it all.” Finn peeled off the pair of pants he’d been wearing and added them to the stack on the table, which wobbled precariously.
    “Why?”
    “To figure out how much of this crap I can actually wear without feeling like an idiot. I’m trying it all on, and I’m sorting it into piles.” He pointed. “Wearable, Maybe, and Oh God Kill Me Now.”
    “You’re so ungrateful.”
    “No, I’m sane. Who the hell wears powder-blue leather pants?”
    “There’s a shirt they go with.” I waded through the sea of clothes to look while Finn tried on the next pair of pants, hopping on one leg. “So what’d you do all day, apart from insulting my taste?”
    “I had another counseling session. I was gonna ask you about that anyway. Are you a sex addict?”
    I wheeled round and nearly lost my balance. Finn grabbed my arm to prevent me from falling into a pile of shirts.
    “Wait, what?”
    “Seriously. The sorts of questions I got asked today were…interesting, to put it nicely.”
    “How the hell does Dr. Brookhard even know all this stuff? That’s bullshit.”
    “I hate to say it, but I think your dad might have made a list before he sent you here.” Finn grimaced in a way that was probably supposed to be sympathetic.
    “Fucking hell.”
    “Yeah, well, we can’t do anything about it now. So. The sex?”
    “I like sex. Last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”
    “I’m not saying it is. I just…I want to make sure I don’t fuck you over in these counseling sessions, okay? I’m trying to be as vague as I can, but I need a little background.”
    I sighed deeply. Discussing my sex life with my cousin did not sound like my idea of a good time, but I got his point. He had told me about his issues too—though, to be fair, I really didn’t consider this one an issue. It was sex, for fuck’s sake. Of course I liked it. Who didn’t?
    I dropped onto the bed, not caring about the fact that I landed in a sea of socks and underwear. “What do you want to know?”
    “Crap. I don’t know.” Finn bit his lip. “I have no idea where to start.”
    “Well, I don’t either. What kind of questions did he ask you?”
    “Let’s see, uh…” Finn abandoned his attempt to wrestle yet another pair of skintight pants over his hips and sat down next to me, denim gathered round his thighs. “Whether I thought it was normal and healthy that I started being sexually active so early.”
    “That’s none of his goddamn business,” I growled.
    “I told him I’d think about it.” Finn arched an eyebrow at me. “How old were you?”
    “It happened on my twelfth birthday.”
    “Holy fuck,” Finn croaked.
    “It’s not that early.”
    “Um, yeah, Lys, it kind of is.”
    I shrugged, thrown by his obvious shock. “Didn’t feel early.”
    “Jesus, are you kidding me?” Finn stared at me. “You’re serious. You were twelve .”
    “So was the guy who fucked me,” I pointed out. “No, wait, he might have been thirteen. I don’t really remember.”
    Finn buried his face in his hands. “That’s really disturbing.”
    “Seriously. It’s not that big a deal.” I bumped his shoulder with mine. “It wasn’t bad. I had fun. I didn’t regret it. I honestly don’t see the problem.”
    “Christ, Lys, you weren’t even a teenager yet.”
    I just shrugged. I had