Merry Little Lies

by Addison Lloyd

  “Are you ready for my question?”

  I took a deep breath, put my shoulders back, and moved my neck around to work out any kinks. “Okay, I'm ready.”

  “Why do you smell like paint?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I didn't mean that as an insult,” he said. “And there's something woodsy.”

  I bit my lip, letting my gaze drop. “That’s my body spray.”

  “I like it.”

  “Really?” It wasn’t Mankind Hero.

  He lifted my chin up, so I had to look at him. He didn't drop his hand, his thumb resting against my jaw. “I bet everything smells good on you.”

  I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

  He looked a little unsure then, like he hadn't meant to say that. “But there’s still this underlying paint smell. It reminds me of that painting we were looking at. Are you an artist?”

  “I was,” I admitted. “I used to paint all the time.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  Somehow these questions seem more personal than what I'd asked him. Which on the surface seemed ridiculous? This wasn’t about dating or liking someone. This was about something deeper.

  “Was it because of your brother?”

  “I actually painted a lot during the time Teddy was sick and after he was gone. So much was going on in my head and …” I took a shuddering breath. “I had to get it all out somehow. To keep from suffocating.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  Was I really going to tell him things I hadn't even told my mom? Or Rob? Or my fake girlfriend? “I wanted to focus on my grades and getting into a good college. I needed to be practical.”

  “I don't buy it.”

  My heart beat faster and I wanted to yell at him. He didn’t get to choose how I felt, but it was hard because he was right.

  “That's the pat answer. The reason you tell yourself. But it’s not what's really going on.”

  “What’s really going on?”

  “I can't speak for you, but my guess would be after releasing all that pain it left you not wanting to feel anything. It was better to numb yourself.”

  “I tried painting afterwards.” I said, unable to believe he got it right. Something I hadn't really even been able to admit to myself. “It came out flat. It was terrible. It had no feeling at all. I figured it was for the best.” It would help me gain prospective. Achieve my goals. And later, once I had a good job. Once I had healthcare. Then there would be room in my life for things like passion and feelings, but he didn’t need to know all that.

  He moved his hand, and I immediately missed it, until he reached down and gathered both my hands in his. “So, if you haven't been painting,” he said. “Why do you smell like paint?

  “Nothing gets by you, does it?” I laughed.

  “Well, there have been a few things.” His eyes twinkled with laughter.

  I ducked my head. “You're going to think it's stupid.

  “I promise you I won’t.”

  “I have an old set of paints in the garage. Ones I hadn’t used in years.” Thankfully, he didn't ask about my current art supplies. The fact he didn't ask, reminded me that he had told me up front he wouldn’t ask me a question he knew I couldn't answer. And that was an answer I wasn't ready to give,

  “So, these old art supplies. What did you do with them? Did you paint?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “I just swirled some around on an old metal bucket I found in the garage. It wasn't that I wanted to paint exactly, I just wanted to introduce it back into my life, to see if I was ready. Does that sound lame?”

  “And are you ready?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe?”

  He smiled again, and it lit up his whole face. “Thank you, Ce, for sharing with me.”

  I smiled shyly. “Thanks for asking.” And I meant it. It wasn't that people weren't still asking me how I was doing. They were. It was more that they quit caring about my answer. And I knew that was on me. I pushed people away. You can only do that for so long before they quit trying. I suspected my mom didn’t ask because she wasn't able to handle the answer. She was barely dealing with her own grief and then with the loss of my father. Our house had been so full of love before.

  “I'll always ask,” Aaron said.

  How was this guy real? “Two days ago, I didn’t even know you existed.”

  He ignored that remark. “I have another question for you.”

  I couldn't look away from his face. “Okay.”

  “Is there any reason why I shouldn't kiss you right now.”

  Oh. A question I could easily answer. “None.”

  And then he was touching my face, leaning in, and our lips finally met. His lips were firm and warm, and I never wanted him to stop. I had forgotten how good it felt to kiss someone or maybe I never knew because I don't remember it ever being like this.

  My arms went around his waist and he pulled me closer. One hand threaded through my short hair and the other moved down to my back holding me in place. His lips devoured mine as he kissed me over and over.

  He never pushed me too far. I felt wanted. Seen.

  We made out in the kitchen for a while. I was dizzy with want or maybe just a lack of oxygen. I couldn't get enough of this amazing guy who liked me.

  Aaron finally pulled away and his hands moved to my face. He rested his foreheads against mine. “I have to go, he said. “I don't want to, but my dad—”

  “You don't have to explain.”

  He searched my face again. “I don't know what this whole thing is with you and Carli. I mean, I have my suspicions, but if you’re telling me there’s no reason for me to hold back, then I trust you.

  My hand went to my chest. I wasn't sure if I was trying to calm my heart down or hold it in because I was seriously in danger of losing it. I didn’t consider myself a sappy person. But Aaron made me want to sing. Dance. Write stupid poems about love. And maybe even paint. “Thank you. For trusting me, I mean.”

  He kissed me again.

  And this time, I took control, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his head down. He was slightly taller than me, and I found I liked it. I could seriously get used to this.

  “What happens now?” I asked once we’d come back up for air.

  “I’m hoping you figure your crap out with my sister. I don't enjoy the role of the other guy.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.” I wasn’t giving Carli a choice.

  “Maybe, text me? I know with Christmas coming up, you probably have a lot going on.”

  I nodded, trying to keep the sadness off my face. I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas.

  “If you need me, just to talk or for whatever reason, just reach out.”

  I almost reminded him I’d be contacting him to pay him back the forty dollars, but I had the good sense, for once, not to bring it up. Money was the one thing we might never agree on. I didn’t want to think about that now. Instead I wanted to focus on this gorgeous guy who somehow wanted to be part of my life. Even as messed up as I was. And maybe that was the best part. Because we were both messed up and maybe we could help each other.

  “Okay, I really have to go.” He slipped his jacket on.

  I followed him into the living room, and he thanked Mom and gran again for dinner. Then I walked him out into the cool crisp winter air.

  “I’ll text you tomorrow.” he said, leaning in to kiss me again.

  Then he climbed into his Land Rover Sport and waved goodbye.

  I was grinning from ear to ear as I waved back. But I didn't care. This giddiness felt foreign. Exciting. Necessary.

  Maybe this Christmas would be different after all.

  TEN:

  AARON

  I've always done well on tests. Prided myself on it. They were concrete. Something you could prepare for. The answers were there. And if you’d done your job, if you'd studied well, you knew what they were.

  This test I was failing. Mi
serably. I didn’t know the right answer. I wasn't sure I cared. In fact, it wasn't about getting it right. It was about not getting it wrong. There was a difference. One that I hadn't noticed before. The test involved Ce. I no longer thought of him as Rob. I trusted that if he was actually in a relationship with my sister, he wouldn't have let me kiss him.

  We texted back and forth over the last couple of days. It was a good thing I was on Christmas break, because I wasn’t sure I could have focused on studying. There were unwritten dating rules. Well maybe they were written somewhere but I didn’t know where. If you were interested in somebody you had to wait so many days before contacting them. I couldn't remember what those rules were, but I had thrown them out the window already. I’d only waited until I’d gotten home.

  Ce texted me back right away. The rush of a new relationship, or whatever this was, had me practically floating for days. I wasn’t sure how to define it. Attraction? Obsession? Both were close. Whatever it was, I had a hard time focusing on anything else.

  “What's going on, with you, Aaron?” My dad loomed behind me, staring at the plate in my hands that I was now drying.

  “Just washing my dishes.”

  “We have a dishwasher.”

  I shrugged. “There were only a few.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, giving me his dad stare. “You also did the laundry and took out the trash. We have people who do that.”

  “Why should I have somebody else do it if I’m capable?” I asked, turning to face him.

  His eyebrows rose. I didn’t usually challenge my dad. “Think of it this way,” he said. “We’re contributing to society by hiring people and paying them a salary. We’re helping them better their lives.”

  I’d actually heard this line many times, but I never remembered it sounding so condescending. Smug. My dad was a good person. No matter what my mom thought sometimes. Or my sister. But people with money lived in a completely different world. And they told themselves little lies to make them feel better about it.

  In comparison, Ce had to be careful with every dime he spent. He was also proud of the work he did. What do I do? And maybe that wasn't a fair comparison. I was in school, preparing to go to college. I had plans for my life. I wasn't going to just live off my trust fund.

  I continued drying the dinner dishes, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me alone.

  “Is this because of Carli,” he asked.

  “No.” But I doubted he believed me.

  “How did Kay’s thing go the other night?”

  “Fine.”

  “Was Carli there?”

  “Yes,” I said, stacking the cups in the cupboard.

  “What about your mom?”

  The question wasn't asked lightly, although he intended me to take it that way. I knew he regretted how things ended with Mom. They’d loved each other, probably still loved each other, but they couldn't get along. Their lives were worlds apart.

  “No, she wasn’t there.”

  “Okay. I’m going to work in my office,” he said, the sadness weighing down the words.

  I threw the tea towel down on the counter. My good mood had vanished, but I couldn't really blame Dad.

  Being reminded on a daily basis that love wasn't enough, sucked all the fun out of everything.

  “Are you bipolar?”

  “That is incredibly insensitive,” I said, to my best friend. Ignoring him wouldn’t help. I’ve tried.

  “Okay, sorry. Are you on meth?”

  I sighed. “No.”

  “You have been all over the place, babe. One minute you're smiling like a loon and the next you’re throwing your controller across the room. So, talk to Jade.”

  “Quit referring to yourself in the third person. It’s creepy.”

  “Oh, you love it.” He dropped next to me, throwing his legs over my lap.

  Jade was a little over the top. He had long auburn hair and serious eyes. He hid that part of himself well with a flair for the dramatic. He’d once worn a sequined skirt, billowy blouse, and combat boots. And somehow, on him, it worked.

  At school, he’d dragged me into his schemes. Mostly it involved a bit of righteous rebelliousness and the need to be the center of attention. We’d been friends from the first day we met. He’d dared me to go up to Mrs. Mallory, our homeroom teacher, and sing, “I’m too sexy for my shirt.”

  At thirteen I could recognize it for what it was. A test to see if I was worthy. I passed. But later I had to convince Mrs. Mallory not to call my dad.

  “Come on, Aaron. I’m dying to hear all about it.”

  “What?”

  “Whatever is putting that smile on your face. It could only be one of two things. Getting a perfect score on a test…”

  “We’re not in school right now.”

  “Or you met a boy.”

  “He's not a boy.”

  “I knew it,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Come on. Spill.”

  “Jade.”

  “You want to talk about it. It’s there,” he said, waving his hand at me. “All over your face.”

  Problem was, he was right. I needed to talk to someone.

  “Let’s start with the basics. What’s his name?”

  “I'm not one hundred percent sure.”

  “You don't know his name? But this guy is real, right?”

  I smacked his leg. “It's either Rob or Cian or Ce.”

  “As in a lock and key? Kinky.”

  “It’s a nickname,” I said, trying not to get defensive. Jade would take every scrap of information I gave him and input it into his perfect memory. Then he’d never let me live it down.

  “Ce is a nickname for Rob? Sounds dubious.”

  “His dead brother gave it to him.” I knocked his legs off. Why did I think this was a good idea?

  “Testy. Was it by seance or before…?”

  “Do you want to hear this or not?’

  He rolled his hand in a circle, motioning for me to continue.

  “He was introduced to me as Carli's boyfriend.”

  “Shut up.” He sat up so he was facing me. “You have a thing for your sister’s boyfriend? That’s delicious.”

  “I’m not convinced they’re actually together.”

  “Okay you're gonna have to give me more than that.”

  I started from the beginning and took him through the story, leaving out a few details, mostly personal information about Ce that I wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to know.

  “Wait … you kissed him? Oh my, was it hot?”

  “Very,”

  He fanned himself and sighed, before taking my hands. “What else? I can sense there’s a but there and I’m talking about the issue and not the one you want to tap.”

  I ignored his innuendo. “Besides the fact he might be my sister's boyfriend?”

  “Neither of us believe that story anymore.”

  “Right.” I shifted on the couch and stretched out my legs. Anything to keep from facing my best friend and his perceptive eyes.

  “Aaron. What's the problem?”

  “We’re just so different.”

  “Wait. Backup,” he said, holding my face so I had to look at him. “I thought this was just for funsies. A little flirting. Making out. Maybe a little under the clothes action.”

  I snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”

  Jade gave me a look and several taps to my cheek. “Focus,” he said. “Is this for fun or what?”

  “Yeah. For fun.”

  “Then it doesn't matter how well you get on, right? Because you're going away to college next year, and he’s going to mechanic school?”

  “Snob. He’s going to college. But he’s still got another year.”

  “And what’s the likelihood of you both ending up at the same University? Not good, right?”

  I glared at him, and he raised up his hand.

  “Look this isn’t a commentary on his social status. I’m just being real. If the kid doesn’t have
money to buy a decent car, he does not have enough money to get into Washington University.”

  “I’m not going to WashU.”

  “Focus.” Jade snapped his fingers in front of my face. “No matter what, you’ll be in college somewhere and he’ll still be in high school. And what? You think he’ll follow you wherever?”

  “I’m not expecting that at all, Jade.”

  “And you've known him for less than a week?”

  I rested my head on the couch and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I wanted that happy feeling, that giddiness that I had a few hours earlier. Where nothing could stop us. Why did reality have to always be such a bitch. It wasn't fair.

  “Oh, sweetie,” he said, finally, laying his head on my shoulder. “You like this guy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It's been a long time since you've liked a guy.”

  “Yeah.” He wasn't wrong.

  “And I think it feels big because of that, you know? I’m not saying break up with your sister’s fake boyfriend.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him.

  “I’m just saying don't rush anything. Have fun. By the end of summer. Or by the end of the school year. Hell, maybe by the end of this month. Things might look different. The excitement might have faded a bit. I do know that anything that wakes you up and gives you a little hope is not a bad thing. Because hon, you have been avoiding guys for a long time now.”

  “You think he’s like Sean.”

  “No. I don't. Sean was more than happy to take your money and spend it. And this guy isn’t that. It doesn’t mean he’s not playing you, right. I just say be optimistically cautious. Have joyful doubt.”

  “That's not a thing.”

  “It could be. We could start a movement.”

  I laughed and squeezed his hand. He could always cheer me up.

  “What’s your biggest fear?”

  I turned my head to look at him. “Broken heart.”

  He nodded.

  “What if we both get in too deep and break each other's heart?”

  “Not every relationship ends up like your mom and dad.” He grinned “You could always end up like my mom and her men.”

  I laughed. Jade's mom had been married three times and each breakup, each divorce, ended on a good note. Jade's mom was like a butterfly, happy as she could be with each of her guys, and then moving on, when she wasn't. She had prenups with all her husbands because she was not only rich, but famous. The former TV sitcom she starred in still played in reruns and most people knew the name of Suzette Starr. She’d also had a show in Branson for a few years.