One Little Lie Page 16

  She laughed lightly. “Mrs. Croft. Do you remember when there was that mini explosion in the fume hood in her class?”

  “Remember it? Yes, it was one of the few classes I was awake for.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You were in that class when it happened?”

  “Oh yeah. Never fell asleep again after that.”

  “We had to evacuate the school,” she said, and her eyes took on a dreamy look like she was remembering. “And we just saw black smoke coming from that end. Everyone knew it was Mrs. Croft’s class.”

  “Yeah, those were the days. I don’t know if they ever figured out what caused it, either.”

  She laughed again, and I found myself laughing with her. It felt good to do that, when smiles were so rare for us. It was almost too easy for me to forget why I didn’t particularly like her.

  Almost.

  When we pulled up in front of my house, we both looked toward the windows, where Casey’s frame was silhouetted against the curtains as she sat on the sofa in the living room.

  Hollis’s hand hovered on her seatbelt button. Did she want to be invited in? Again, if this was real, I might invite her in for chemical-laden, greasy burgers and the company of my sister. Who obviously liked Hollis. But I didn’t want to get Casey’s hopes up for something that was completely fake anyway.

  “Stay here,” I said, “I’m going to drop these off and then bring you home.” I exited the car before either of us could make it awkward.

  16

  Hollis

  After the party, I wanted to hide in my bed for days. I settled for five hours upon waking up the next day.

  Adam had seen the longing in my eyes when we’d pulled up to his house. He’d seen it, and he’d rejected it just as fast. He must really hate me.

  My phone had been vibrating all morning, but I just knew it was a bunch of tutoring requests. I didn’t want to deal with looking at my schedule, going through another monotonous day. When it vibrated again on my nightstand, it fell to the floor. I debated leaving it there for a solid hour, but remembering that I still hadn’t responded to my dad had me sighing and reaching over the side of the bed, scooping it up and resigning myself to the frustrating day that awaited me.

  But the notifications that lit up my home screen were not tutoring requests. Nor were they a million emails or texts or missed calls from my dad. I scrolled down the screen, a little in awe at the sheer number, before I selected one.

  Blake had uploaded the photo of Adam and me standing with him at the party onto Facebook. There were a hundred likes and twenty comments. I remembered Adam showing it to me last night, but I had been dismissive of it then.

  But looking at it now, I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t on the radar of guys like Blake. After all, he’d come over to talk to Adam, not me. But the fact that he posted that photo, and that so many people had commented made my chest fill up with held breath. I expected a snide comment about me, but there were none. A lot of “Small world” comments, and other “Where was my invite?” Okay, so the picture didn’t shout WE ARE DATING.

  I clicked on my notifications, surprised to see so many. Most of the older ones were related to the photo Blake had posted, but one notification stuck out: a photo Adam had tagged me in.

  The breath I had been holding whooshed out of me only so I could suck it all back in as I clicked the photo.

  It was a candid photo of us standing toe to toe, our fingers linked as we stared at each other. I knew exactly when it’d been taken: immediately after he’d helped me off of the tire swing. There must have been a breeze, because my hair was flying behind me. But it wasn’t my hair that held my attention. It was the look on our faces. The posed photo with Blake was one thing; this was … well, not that. This was … what was it? I was mesmerized by the height difference between us, the way Adam’s eyelids were lowered as he gazed down at me. “Are you cold?” he’d asked, and the truth was that being that close to him had made me warm.

  Where had he gotten this photo from? I almost couldn’t believe it was really us. The way we stood, the way we looked at each other, there was no mistaking it. We were definitely dating.

  Breathless with anticipation of the growing number of comments under the photo, I scrolled down. Lots of comments with just hearts—by girls I didn’t know.

  A comment with an eggplant and “That’s a lot of big dick energy in one photo.” There were replies to that comment: “Adam or Hollis?” asked someone which was followed with Tori’s reply, “Hollis, duh.” And then there were at least a half-dozen comments by Tori herself:

  FUCKING FINALLY JESUS CHRIST

  *seven tongue emojis*

  Who took this photo because it’s A-R-T

  Can’t wait to third wheel this bitch!

  *tricycle gif*

  And the last comment by Tori, the one that made me laugh so hard tears sprung to my eyes, was the same photo of Adam and me, except with Tori’s face photoshopped over the tire swing, smiling hysterically.

  Once I had recovered, I scrolled down a bit more, reading the rest of the comments—most of them seemed surprised by Adam and me, “Who knew?” And I stopped on the comment by someone named Sarah. I recognized the thumbnail of her face, from the one Adam had shown me last night. “Is this why you’re not returning my messages?” There was a winky face after that comment. My lips made a flat line and I wished I hadn’t seen her comment. Not that I had anything against her, as a person, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit to a little irrational jealousy. This was a woman who knew Adam more than I did, who’d been in a real relationship with him. She had something I didn’t. The real him, not the Adam who guarded himself against me.

  I scrolled back up, wanting to see Tori’s comments again. And, as if she knew I had been thinking of her, a text message came through: What’s up? Gonna break the internet today, you think?

  I looked back at the photo, which had already well over four-hundred likes.

  I didn’t even know that photo existed. I don’t know who took it, I replied. She called me immediately after the text delivered.

  “Okay, spill.”

  I shrugged, then remembered she couldn’t see me. “There’s nothing to spill. He agreed to the fake relationship ruse for now. We’ll see how long it lasts, but it’s not going to get to engagement territory. We’re just going to play it long enough, hoping my parents amended the terms of the trust. Like you said.”

  “‘There’s nothing to spill,’” she mimicked me. “Just that I’m dating the guy I’ve had moon-eyes for since before I even had a period.”

  “Fake dating,” I reminded her.

  “Suuuure. But that photo wasn’t posed. So, let me tell you: there’s nothing fake about the chemistry you’re emitting in that photo. I mean, you’re looking at him like he’s a snack, and he’s looking at you like you’re a feast. It’s so hot. Until that photo, I didn’t know I could orgasm without penetration.”

  “Oh my gosh, Tori,” I said, knowing pink was staining my cheeks. “What a thing to say.”

  “I almost wrote that on the photo,” she said with a laugh. “But then I remembered your parents are gonna see it. So I kept it tame.”

  “Yes, I could tell, talking about my big dick energy was really tame.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t bring up the big dick energy. Someone else did. I just made them aware that it was you with the big dick.”

  “Thanks,” I said, a smile forming my lips. I nestled into my big, heavy comforter and put the phone on speaker, laying it on the pillow next to mine. “I can’t believe this, really. It feels so fast.”

  “Well, according to your folks, you’ve been seeing this guy for a couple years now. So you’ve gotta appear like you’ve got the hots for him.”

  I didn’t think that’d be too hard. I did have the hots for him. And I had it in a bad, bad way. It wasn’t just every day that you got a chance to date the person you’d lusted after for years. Even if it was fake dating.

  �
��What’s on the agenda this week?”

  “Tutoring…”

  “Yeah, snooze. What else?”

  “Class…”

  “Yeah, I don’t think you get what I’m referring to. What about Adam?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll need to get together a couple more times before my parents come into town this week.”

  “Speaking of your parents, I see your mom liked the photo of you and Adam.”

  “She did?” Admittedly, I hadn’t looked through all the likes, but the fact that my mom had liked it and not said anything made me feel no small amount of anxiety. I half expected to hear the doorbell ringing so she could come grill me about being safe. Again.

  “Yep, she did. When are they coming up to visit?”

  “Thursday.” I rubbed my eyes, mentally making a list of everything I needed to do before then.

  “Yikes. Big yikes. Is Adam ready?”

  “Can anyone ever be ready to face my parents?”

  “True, true.” I heard the crunch of something over the line. Tori was always eating. She wasn’t picky, either—fruits, vegetables, grains, proteins, and junk were on a heavy rotation in her diet. “By the way, I miss you. I know it’s only been a week, but it’s been one hell of a week, huh?”

  “I miss you too,” I said. And I did. Living with Navy was nice. She was tidy, she was quiet. But she wasn’t Tori. Living with Tori required an ability to be comfortable with at least a little bit of chaos. She got bored easily, or distracted, which meant mess followed her like she was leaving a trail of crumbs in case she got lost. “When are you going to come up here and visit?”

  “Eh. I’ll probably surprise you,” she said, and I heard another crunch. “Like your little sticky notes. I keep finding them. You sentimental little shit.” She was teasing, but it was something I’d done ever since we’d been kids. Leaving her little notes for her to find, notes reminding her of how funny and wonderful I thought she was. “Surprise visits are my sticky notes. Hanging with my roommates—”

  “Parents,” I corrected, and smiled.

  “—is like hanging out at a sad nursing home, except there’s no bingo so it’s even worse.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” I said. Tori had a flair for the dramatic. “But I’d love to have you visit. The apartment I share with Navy is only two bedrooms, but I have a big bed.”

  “I don’t want to encroach on Adam’s share of the bed.”

  I stared at my empty half of the bed, my Adam-less half, and said, “Well, I don’t think there’s any worry of that.”

  “Don’t you wish you hadn’t lost your virginity to that guy on the junior year camp trip? What was his name?”

  “Willy.”

  “Oh, God, that’s right. I mean, there were worse choices.”

  “Thanks,” I said insincerely. “I just wanted to get it over with.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. Before Adam gives you a hard time. If you know what I’m saying.” I rolled my eyes and she said, “That was a joke.”

  “Yeah, a bad one,” I told her.

  “You’re not wrong.” She sighed, the sound blowing air into the receiver. “Okay. I’m going to try to make it up one of these weekends. I might have to borrow one of my roommate’s cars until I get off my ass and get a job, but I’ll be there.”

  At the knock on my door, I turned off the speakerphone and said my goodbyes to Tori before I told Navy to come in.

  Navy strolled through the door, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Saw the photo.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Keane did a great job.”

  “Keane took that?” I asked, pushing myself up to sitting. I patted the bed so Navy could sit beside me. “I was wondering who did.”

  “Yeah, I think he took a couple and sent them to Adam.”

  It made me want to text Keane and ask for them too, but for some reason that felt almost desperate. So I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and pulled my hair into a low ponytail. Navy was already moving around my room, picking up my empty diet soda from the nightstand and tossing it. “Did you stay late?” I asked her. When Adam had dropped me off, her car was still gone.

  “Until about two. Mike was so drunk he started crying and talking about his life problems, so I stuck around while Keane consoled him. Did a little cleaning so his mom wouldn’t have a surprise when she comes home this week.”

  That didn’t surprise me. “Any plans for today?” I asked her, noticing that she was already dressed.

  She glanced down at her ripped shorts and her white crochet button down shirt. “Oh, well that’s why I came in. Adam decided kind of last minute to throw a birthday party for Casey. Her birthday’s next weekend, but he’s pretty busy with the new job starting next week and Gram comes home right after her birthday, so he wants to do it before.”

  “I should go,” I said, pushing up out of bed. “I don’t have a present for her. What should I get her? She’s going to be thirteen, right? What do thirteen-year-old girls like?”

  Navy shrugged. “I got her a Target gift card. Everyone loves Target.”

  “I can’t get her one if you got her one.” I wracked my brain as I grabbed clothes from the closet, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and one of my black peplum tops. It was somewhat dressy, but not over the top. “This look okay?” I asked Navy as I pulled my hair into a cleaner ponytail and slid some thin hoops into my earlobes.

  “Great.” Navy reached over to my nightstand and picked up the book I’d read last night. “What’s this one about? Explain it to me badly.”

  “A man accidentally kidnaps a woman and he spends the rest of the book trying to bring her back to where she belongs but she isn’t having it and they fall in love.”

  “That was explaining it badly?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up high on her forehead. “Because this sounds like something I actually want to read.” She opened the first page and began reading as I applied some makeup. “I wish I read more,” she said on a sigh as she read the first page. “This sounds wonderful.”

  “It is.” I grabbed the one necklace I wore regularly and paused. It was gold, with the tiniest, most delicate rose charm that hung just at the base of my throat, between my clavicles. I thought of the weak rose I’d drawn on that note for Adam almost four years ago, and wondered if he ever thought about it himself. Sliding the chain around my neck, I wondered if I’d ever tell him it was me.

  “Where do you want to go for her gift?” Navy asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I pictured Casey in my mind, and knew instantly. “I’ve got an idea.”

  17

  Adam

  Keane hauled a helium tank from the back of his truck. “You know,” he said, his breath heaving from exertion, “we should’ve done this at my house instead of here. What if this shit blows away?”

  I grabbed the bag of balloons I had picked up at the party store and the string that went with them. “It’ll be fine. I’ll hold the balloons while you fill them, and then you’ll tie them off.

  Keane grunted and dragged the tank to the gazebo overlooking Casey’s favorite park. As far as birthday parties went, this one was kind of lame. But it was cheap, and cheap was what I could afford. My last check from my job deposited the day before, which meant I had enough to pay Hollis back, throw this little party for Casey, and cushion my account until my new job at Keane’s work paid me. I hated the stress of living paycheck to paycheck, hated having to stalk my bank account to make sure everything was functioning in there the way it was supposed to. Gram was on a fixed income herself, but that money wouldn’t last forever and it was really only enough to cover the essentials.

  In the darkest hours of the night, when I lay awake in bed worrying over what was coming next, I wished for my life in Colorado. I wanted the peace of mind I had back there. The roommates, my bandmates, and the mostly steady flow of cash from the paid gigs we had, especially over the summer when our wallets were padded by festivals and small outdoor
concerts.

  But when I thought of Casey, and how happy she’d been upon seeing me again, and the ease that had settled over her when I had told her I was staying, I erased those thoughts as wishes that I wouldn’t want to come true.

  Pulling the cake from the backseat of Keane’s truck, I glanced over the decorations. The grocery store bakery didn’t have time to do anything special just for her, but they’d offered to pipe in name in purple frosting over the front of the cake. It wasn’t a fancy cake, with layers of decorative fondant, but it was her favorite flavors: dark chocolate and whipped cream frosting.

  I carried the cake and the plates I had picked up to the table, setting the cake on top of the plates so they wouldn’t blow away. Amber Lake was a widespread town, with small clusters of residential neighborhoods separated by acres of farmland. The mostly-flat terrain made it great for farmers and ranchers, but it made the wind a real bitch without having any natural shields for it.

  Keane ripped open the balloon bag and handed me a yellow one before opening the valve on the helium tank. As he began to fill them, he looked up at me. “So it’s you, me, my mom, Navy, Hollis and…”

  “That’s it,” I said. “Wait, Hollis?”

  Keane looked away from me, rolling out a string as I tied the balloon. “Yeah, Navy’s bringing her.”

  I hadn’t invited Hollis. I had invited Navy. I mean, it made sense that Hollis would come along since she and Navy were roommates, but I didn’t feel right having Hollis around my sister when it was all just a lie between us.

  I thought of how adoringly Casey had looked at Hollis when she met her, like a girl observing a big sister she never had. And that was the only reason I didn’t text Hollis not to come.

  “I can see the ‘I’m gonna be a dick’ face forming already,” Keane said, tying the first balloon to the picnic table he was sitting on. “So, why don’t you knock that off right now. You should’ve invited her.”

  “Why? She’s not my real girlfriend.”