One Little Lie Page 13

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “What do I want you to say? I want you to fucking help me, Caleb. I don’t know what the fuck to do. I left everything in Colorado and came home to a shit show. I don’t know how to take care of Casey.”

  “Jesus, she’s not a baby. You don’t have to mix her formula or give her baths.”

  “No, I just have to raise her.” Could I blame him for choosing to stay at college? I would be a boldfaced liar if I claimed that leaving my band, my life in Colorado, hadn’t been hard. If Caleb had said he’d take care of Casey, would I rush home to help? I couldn’t say for sure. But he hadn’t volunteered, the day Gram had asked me to three-way call her and Caleb for a mini family meeting. It was a choice I had made, and I didn’t regret it. But if I was being honest, there wasn’t another choice on the table.

  “Just help her with her homework. She’s a good kid. She’s practically an adult already.”

  “She’s not yet thirteen,” I reminded him. “And me, help her with her homework? Do you not remember how school was for me?”

  “Of course I remember. That’s why I’m in grad school and you chased a dream.” He said it almost patronizingly, not that I was surprised. Me leaving town and joining a band had made me a spontaneous child in his eyes. “Come on, it’s middle school shit. It can’t be that hard.”

  “I also have to get a job, keep up on the bills.”

  “You chose to go back, Adam,” he reminded me gently.

  “Because you wouldn’t.”

  “That’s not fair. If Dad was there—”

  “But he’s not,” I interrupted bitterly. “And if—no, when—Gram dies, Dad has to step the fuck up. Do you think he will? Or, is it more likely that he’ll OD on some bullshit pills that hold more worth than his own daughter?”

  “Addicts deserve compassion, not judgement.”

  “I don’t need a fucking lecture from you, Caleb,” I spat. “Trust me, I’ve been to enough meetings with Dad. I’ve sifted through enough pamphlets, hoping to find some kind of answer in those glossy pages. But Dad doesn’t want to get better.”

  “He showed me a sober coin the last time I saw him.”

  “Oh yeah? When was this?”

  Caleb was quiet for a moment. “Last year. Summer, I think.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s homeless in Utah right now. Or at least that’s what he claimed when he hit me up for cash three months ago.”

  Caleb was quiet again. He didn’t see the side of Dad that I saw. He saw Dad more human than I could. “Did you give it to him?”

  “Fuck no.” I had told him I could buy him groceries on an app, for him to pick up, and I had directed him to one of the men’s shelters. But he’d angrily refused and I knew why—because the shelter required sobriety. And because despite what he’d claimed he needed the money for, what he really wanted money for was drugs. My dad was as predictable as the moon. I knew his MO.

  Caleb was my big brother, but I always felt like the responsible one in the things that were practical and necessary. I wanted Caleb to be my big brother. To tell me everything was going to work out. To talk me through this in an actionable way.

  I replayed the conversation I’d had with Hollis and found myself coming up with a plan.

  “Don’t worry,” I found myself saying. “I’ll figure it out.”

  I always did.

  13

  Hollis

  On my way out of class, I was accosted by a student who tried to schedule me for one-on-one tutoring later that day. I tuned out his words and instead acknowledged just how exhausted I was. I could feel it in my bones, the kind of tired that sleep can’t solve. When the flow of students out the door caused him to bump into me, alarm flitted up my spine, and I took a big step back.

  “No,” I told him, interrupting his You know how it is pity speech. “I am unavailable today.” Saying the words felt like prying them from my tongue and I had a knee-jerk feeling to take them back with an apology and a smile, but I bit my lip to keep my mouth from opening and rushed away from him and everyone else that was waiting around him, like vultures waiting to pick the meat from my bones.

  I practically slammed into the doors to exit, sucking in the air that awaited me outside, replacing every bit of stale air I’d been forced to breathe for the last hour.

  That’s when I saw him.

  He was sitting on one of the benches just outside the doors, his head down as his thumbs danced together in his palms. He hadn’t seen me yet, but I knew he wasn’t a student here. There was only one reason he was waiting outside this building at this hour.

  I thought of our conversation the day before, how I had let my temper get the best of me. Maybe it wasn’t even temper but pure frustration. My hand found its way to my back pocket as I recalled throwing my phone and the shock that he wore on his face at my lack of composure. I never slipped. I always held it together, even if the seams holding me together were stressed and taut.

  A gentle breeze ruffled his hair before it reached me and his head lifted, eyes connecting with mine. He braced his hands on his knees and stood. “Hollis.”

  He never said hi. Not to me, at least. I took a tentative step forward, taking in his dark jeans and dark t-shirt. “Adam,” I returned. “Hi,” I said, because I wasn’t accustomed to not saying it.

  “Can we talk?” He motioned to the bench and I walked over to him, taking in the lack of anger or any other negative emotion. If anything, his slouched shoulders and worrying hands made him appear resigned. He sat down with a sigh.

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  The side of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile and he patted the seat beside him.

  When I was sitting, he handed me an ice cold can of diet soda.

  “You don’t drink coffee,” he said by way of explanation. But the way he said it, with almost a question enunciated at the end made it sound like he wasn’t totally sure.

  I took the can from him. “That’s right.” I stared down at it, wondering if this was some kind of peace offering.

  “You like lemon poppyseed muffins, right?” This time, he sounded less sure as he produced a paper bag with my favorite bakery’s logo across the front.

  I didn’t touch it, and set the diet soda down between us to pull the binder I was holding closer to my chest, a kind of plastic shield. I didn’t know what his game was, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t suspicious.

  “Look, think of these as a peace offering.” He’d read my mind.

  “Are we at war?” I asked him, meeting his eyes for only a moment before looking away. Anywhere but at him and at the muffin and soda. My chest hurt, embarrassment from the night before but also because breathing was more work than I could allot just then.

  “Maybe not at war. But I was a dick yesterday. And you…” his voice trailed off and I met his eyes again. “You looked tired.”

  Just what every girl wants to hear, I thought.

  “Not tired like you hadn’t slept but tired like the weight of the world was on your shoulders. So I looked at your Instagram when I got home and didn’t see photos of coffee but I saw a lot of photos of this soda and these muffins.” He lifted the paper bag in my direction again but I was still processing everything he said.

  “I am tired,” I conceded, sitting beside him. He handed me the soda and muffin and I took both with a smile of thanks. After carefully peeling back the muffin paper, I hesitated for a moment before I tore it and handed one half to him. “But the soda is mine,” I said, my attempt at a joke.

  “I bought it for you,” he said, his eyes piercing mine. “This too, but I’m not gonna give it back to you since you’re sharing.” He popped the entire half into his mouth and smiled with a big ol’ lump in his cheek.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out yesterday.” I took a careful bite of the muffin, brushing my fingertips over my lips so they’d capture the crumbs left behind. I chewed carefully, swallowing thoroughly before continuing. The last thing I needed was
to embarrass myself for the third time in front of him. The muffin, while delicious, went down my throat like a rock when I thought of my dad’s email. I snuck a glance at Adam. “Thanks for this.” I lifted the muffin and took another bite.

  Adam relaxed back against the bench and I envied him, his ability to be chill after the tension that had been simmering between us. I imagined that the differences in our body language made it hard to discern exactly what was happening between us, what with him reclined back, his ankle over his knee, and me with my back straight as a pencil and my legs pressed together. I tried to relax, I did. But I still wasn’t entirely sure why he’d brought me the muffin and soda. I mean, that was casual right? It’s just a muffin and soda. Three bucks. But why did it feel like a much bigger deal? Why did I feel a tiny slice of anxiety snake its way into my belly?

  He gently tapped my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. I whipped my head to him, taken aback.

  “Sorry.” He held his hands up in front of him. “You’re so deep in thought that I didn’t think words alone could pull you out of it.”

  I blinked, still a little shocked that he’d touched me. Granted, it was a finger tap, gentle, but … oh, I was doing it again. “I guess I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

  “Yeah, you mentioned as much yesterday.” He drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, looking at me like I was a puzzle he was putting together. “So listen, I’ve given it a bit of thought.”

  “What?”

  “What you said yesterday. About your parents, your situation.”

  I took another bite of the muffin to keep myself from saying anything stupid, waiting for him to continue.

  “And I think I can help you. Be your…” He waved a hand in the air between us. “Fake boyfriend, for a little while. But we have to be clear about this.” He looked away then and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Was he as nervous as I was?

  He was agreeing? In all the possible plans I had plotted since Tori had let it slip, I’d never once banked on him actually going through with it. “What are your terms?”

  He laughed then. “Terms. Like this is a legal transaction or something.”

  “It’s important for us to be on the same page, so there is no confusion.” I was already trying to think of what to do first. My parents wouldn’t be in town for a couple weeks, which meant we’d have two weeks to act as a legitimate couple.

  “Right. Sure.”

  “What do you want in exchange?”

  He stared at me, long and hard. “You’re a tutor, right? That’s what Keane and Navy have said.”

  I nodded, not sure where this was going. Adam wasn’t in school. What did he need a tutor for?

  “It’s for Casey,” he explained. He dragged a hand through his wild dark hair, and the pieces fell back into place like my hair did, after I had assaulted it with half a can of hairspray first. “She’s got her heart set on gymnastics lessons. I hoped I’d be able to buy them, but with the way things have been going, and my gram… Well, anyway, she’s had a rough couple years, thanks to my dad.” He didn’t elaborate on that part, because we both knew he didn’t need to. “Now he’s promising to buy her gymnastics lessons if she gets her grades up.” He laughed. “The first responsible thing he’s done as her father in a long time.”

  I nodded, remembering my conversation with Casey. “Okay, sure. Of course.” I licked my lips and ran my tongue over my teeth, hoping to remove any traitorous poppy seeds. “Casey needs tutoring.” I thought that through, deciding I needed to make a plan sooner than later before my schedule filled up. “I can do that.” He smiled gratefully. He was asking me to do something for his sister, not him, and it warmed me in a way the morning sun could not.

  “I feel weird about this, to be honest. I don’t like the idea of using your services for free, but using it for her feels better to me.”

  I wanted to tell him I did it all the time—work for free. And for people who weren’t asking out of care for someone besides themselves. But helping Casey meant more time in her presence, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. I had enjoyed what little time I’d already had with her.

  “There’s another thing.” He coughed and looked around, as if suddenly aware of our setting. “Shit, do you have another class to get to?”

  I shook my head. “I have another hour.”

  “Okay. Well, this one is a big ask.” He gazed at me sideways. “So if you say no, I get it. I’ll figure it out.”

  “What? Money? I don’t mind paying you. It’s a big ask of me to have you pretend to like me for as long as this lasts.”

  “No. I’m going to work with Keane. His job has openings. I’ll figure everything else out.” At least he had the dignity not to protest that he actually did like me. This was a business transaction, and the help he’d be giving me far outweighed what I was doing for him. As far as I was concerned, he hadn’t asked enough of me. “But I’m going to work some late shifts. Gram will be home soon, but I can’t really count on her if there’s an emergency—for her or for Casey.”

  “Casey needs company while you’re at work,” I said. “I got it. Just tell me when.”

  He hesitated a minute before nodding. “Is that going to affect your schedule?”

  “I don’t think so. Most of my classes end before one in the afternoon. If this late shift is after then, I should be available.”

  “Okay.” He paused. “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.” I stuck my hand out and he waited a beat before taking it. “We’ll figure everything else out later.”

  He’d lost that carefree posture in the last few minutes. It was like we were back to being strangers, but strangers who had to feign romantic interest in one another. “I guess I’ll need your number then.” He handed me his phone and I put the numbers in and sent a text to my phone, so I’d have his.

  “One thing,” I said, suddenly remembering why Adam had come to my apartment the day before and started this entire conversation. “We can’t tell anyone, apart from Keane, Tori, and Navy.”

  He let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like lying.”

  “Well, you’ll have to get used to it. At least for the time being. Our fake relationship has to look real to everyone—not just my parents.”

  “Why everyone?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do you know my dad?”

  Realization dawned over his eyes. “Yes, he fired mine. But okay. I get it. So we have to post on Facebook and Instagram and all that shit.”

  “Yes. Build it up until their visit in two weeks.”

  “There’s a party tonight,” he said out of the blue. “Mike Summers’s house. We could go, our first outing.” He said the last word with air quotes. “If you’re game.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say No. An instant, knee jerk reaction. But there really was no time like the present. Delaying the inevitable would only lead to nerves haunting me every hour leading up to it. I still dreaded going to the party tonight, but at least I didn’t have to agonize over it for days. Only hours. “Okay,” I finally said.

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  That was it; we were done. I stood and retreated with a hasty “Bye.”

  “Hollis,” he called.

  I paused, holding my binder to my chest as I turned around.

  Adam rose from the bench, walking to me with confidence I didn’t possess myself. I swallowed as he came closer. Somehow, when we’d been sitting beside each other it felt easier than it did when he was standing, face to face, looming over me.

  “You forgot this.” He held up the can of diet soda. “I figure, if I’m going to be your pretend boyfriend, I’m going to have to get better at bringing you snacks.” The side of his mouth lifted in a rare smile and I took the cold can from him.

  Without saying anything, I turned and walked away, waiting until he was out of earshot to exhale the breath I had been holding.

  14

  Hollis

  Mike Summers’s h
ouse was set back off of Amber Lake, like a space in the mountains that wrapped around the lake had been made precisely for the footprint of his palatial family home. The dock that stretched down to the lake seemed a mile long, judging by the number of bodies from the house to the edge of it the boat landing. Out on the water floated a dock, and from the laughter and splashes that carried across the lake the party was out there as well. The sky was darkening enough that the presence of the dozens of tiki torches was welcome. Out on the water, bugs were as present as people this time of night.

  I glanced at Adam as he looked out over the water, wondering what was on his mind. If this was a normal relationship, I could ask him what he was thinking. I could pick his brain and he could pick mine and maybe we’d even hold hands as we walked through the large glass double doors into the foyer. But instead we were so far apart that if we hadn’t arrived in the same car together one might think we just happened to be here at the same time—not that we’d come, together. Adam looked around the grand entrance, taking in the curving staircase and the high ceilings, while I sought out a more familiar and friendlier face at the back of the house, in the kitchen that overlooked that long dock and the water beyond. Navy was there, picking up plastic cups and rinsing them out, laying them upside down on a tea towel so they could dry. She leaned over and asked someone if they needed anything and to anyone else, it might’ve seemed like she was the lady of the home or—at the very least—Mike’s current girlfriend. But she was neither of those things, she was just Navy.

  I wrapped an arm around her waist, grateful for the break from Adam.

  “Hey,” she murmured, leaning into me. “This party is kind of a snooze fest,” she said under her breath.