Little Lies

by H Hunting

  I push up on my tiptoes and mash my chest against the stainless steel door, reaching for the end of the bag. It’s just beyond my grasp.

  “Say please and I’ll get it for you.”

  I spin around and find Kodiak standing less than six inches away. His pale green eyes are fixed on me, but the only emotion in them is passive disdain. I will my own eyes to shift to the side and not down, but they don’t obey.

  As a child, I saw Kodiak in swim shorts all the time. Our families were always together for barbecues, birthday parties—any excuse for our parents to hang out meant our nannies also got together with us.

  Kodiak has always been a bigger-than-average kid. He hit his first growth spurt at eleven, and by the time he was fourteen, it was clear he was going to be more than six-feet. At nineteen, he was six-three. He was a lanky teen, but tall and with broad shoulders that promised to fill out in time.

  Time has done its job. And so has Kodiak’s rigidity and his obsession with being the absolute best. He’s ripped—all hard edges and cut muscles. Broad shoulders, defined biceps, thick veins roping down his forearms. A chiseled chest and six-pack abs leading down to the slice of V that disappears into his basic, black swim shorts.

  Fuck. I’m ogling him. My heart stutters in my chest, and color explodes in my cheeks as he leans in.

  He’s so close that his wet hair brushes my temple, and I can feel his hot breath and the cool radiating from his skin. “You look hungry, Lavender.”

  I recoil, hating the way my body reacts to his low, taunting tone. I’m aware he’s making fun of me, that he knows he’s physically appealing and I’m not immune. I hate that it hurts to be so horribly dismissed over and over again by someone who once meant so much to me.

  I take an unsteady step back and hit the counter. He moves forward, one hand landing beside me, the other gripping the fridge door. His gaze moves over my face and drops to my mouth. My immediate response is to suck my bottom lip between my teeth and hide the scar.

  Something in his expression shifts, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Nothing has changed.”

  “You’re right. I still hate you, and you’re still an asshole.”

  He grins, the dimple in his cheek popping. “Only one of those things is true.”

  The French doors open. “Kody? Are you coming back out? ’Cause if you wanna go, I’m cool with that too.”

  I glance past him to the tall, lithe, bikini-clad girl. She’s not the girl from the first day of school, although I have seen that one since. She’s been here, in the pool and all over Kodiak, during their many parties.

  I hate that relief is the first thing I feel. Her eyes narrow when she sees me, and it’s my turn to sneer. “It’s kind of embarrassing that you’re so used to bunnies falling all over you that you’ve forgotten how to act like a human being,” I note, meeting Kodiak’s eyes. “I guess it’s good that you don’t have to rely on your winning personality to get laid.”

  The only sign I’ve gotten to him is the slight tic in his cheek and the way his expression goes flat.

  “Kody? Why are you talking to her?” Her jealousy is a green-eyed monster.

  I leave the sandwich stuff and grab a box of cereal from the counter, wanting to get away from Kodiak before he hits me with another low blow.

  “I live here.” I throw a fake smile her way and elbow past Kodiak. “And don’t worry, I’d rather choke to death on a rotten hot dog than let him put his hands on me.”

  I head for the stairs, aware that Kodiak isn’t going to follow me or antagonize me any further when there’s some girl vying for his attention. I rush up the steps, nearly tripping on the first landing. I manage to catch myself and make it to the third floor without falling on my face. I close my door and lock it from the inside, but I don’t turn on my light.

  Since my room is in the attic, I have windows that look out on all sides of the house, plus the balcony that overlooks the backyard and the pool. I drop the cereal and my bag on the bed and cross to the other side of the room. Flipping the lock on the sliding door, I open it enough to get my body through, which is wider than I’d like, thanks to my boobs. I close it silently and drop down, staying hidden behind the towel I left hanging over the railing yesterday.

  I scan the lit-up pool. I spot River with some girl hanging off him while he basically ignores her. It always surprises me how willing girls are to bask in his high-level surliness on the off chance he might give them a shred of attention.

  I love my twin, but how he manages to attract the opposite sex confounds me.

  Maverick is sitting at the edge of the pool, making out with someone. He’s been dating her for the past two weeks, I think, which means she won’t be around much longer.

  It takes me a while to find Kodiak. He’s in the shadows, sitting on one of the stools behind the pool bar, forearms on the bar top, his expression grim. The blonde is nowhere to be found. He’s wearing his ball cap now, so I can’t see his face, but it feels like his eyes are on me. Although it always feels that way when he’s around.

  The blonde appears out of the shadows and drapes herself over him. I watch every muscle in his body tense for a few long seconds before he finally gives her his attention. She lifts his ball cap from his head and puts it on her own. She shimmies her way between the bar top and the stool and rests her forearms on his shoulders.

  And of course he lets her. Why wouldn’t he?

  I don’t stick around to see more.

  I may always be a silent observer, but masochism has never been my jam.

  I tell myself this is a good reminder.

  The only person who can save me from myself is me. No point in wallowing in the past and the things I can’t get back. I probably shouldn’t want them anyway.

  Present day

  THE NEXT MORNING I get up early, but my brothers are long gone. Despite the fact that they were up late last night, Mav is already at hockey practice and River is likely on the football field.

  I pull one of my favorite dresses over my head. I have lunch plans with Lovey and Lacey after my morning class.

  I start with a visit to student services, embarrassed that I have to solicit help to make it through the most basic economics class a college can offer. Back in high school, I once used the school tutoring services. I was paired with this sweet, nerdy girl named Michelle who was in love with Maverick, so most of the two tutoring sessions we had revolved around her asking questions about my brother, rather than helping me. I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle and had River do my homework for me instead.

  The guy sitting at the student services desk doesn’t look anything like the nice, nerdy girl who tutored me before. That he’s a he, not a she, is obviously a factor. However, so is the fact that he’s built like a brick shithouse. His sweatshirt has RUGBY stamped across the front, so I’m guessing he’s on the school team—not a hockey player, which is an automatic thumbs-up in my book. Interestingly, his name does not match the rest of him.

  “Hello. Welcome to student services. How can we be of assistance?” Merlin asks.

  I look around for another person to complete the “we” component, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone but him in the office. I have to clear my throat so I can speak above a whisper. “Uh, hi. I was told I could access tutoring services for economics here.”

  He smiles and laces his fingers together, propping his forearms on the desk. They’re thicker than my thighs. “You sure can! We have a variety of students in senior-level classes as well as master’s programs who may be able to assist you. Do you have a copy of your schedule so I can check availability for you?”

  Wow, he’s super nice. And extra friendly. Maybe this won’t be so bad. “Oh, yeah, of course.” I let my backpack slide down my arm and plop it on his desk, nearly knocking over his coffee mug.

  He moves it out of the way and motions to the chair behind me, still smiling. “You can have a seat. It might be safer.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah. Thanks. Sorry.
” I drop down in the chair and rummage around until I find my schedule. I smooth out the rumpled paper and pass it over. I guess I could’ve just as easily showed it to him on my laptop, but I always have a paper copy in case of tech fail.

  He scans my schedule, his smile easy. He has a big chip out of one of his front teeth. “You’re freshmeat?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  His gaze lifts. “A freshman?”

  I must be hearing things. I’m blaming it on lack of sleep. And living with a bunch of jocks. “Uh, sophomore. I transferred this year, but I have a first-year class I need to complete.”

  “Ah, makes sense. How are you liking it here so far . . . Lavender? Is that your real name?”

  “Um, yup. My mom likes purple and uh . . . so far I like it okay—aside from economics, anyway.” I clasp my hands together to keep from picking at my nails.

  “I like purple too.” He gives me a flirty wink. “And econ can be a tough one. I’m a history major, so the numbers I deal with are mostly dates, you know?”

  I nod. My mouth is dry, and my hands are clammy. I don’t deal well with blatant flirting. Especially not from jock types, because they might look nice, but they’re often players, and full of themselves.

  When I don’t offer any words to go with my nod, Merlin turns to his computer. “Let me see who matches your schedule availability.” He clicks away for a minute and mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “lucky fucker.” But I could be paranoid and hearing things.

  “I think I found someone for you.” He spins around in his chair and brings his fingers to his lips, whistling shrilly. “Hey, Bowman, I got a new student to introduce you to!”

  My already-dry mouth feels full of sand, and a bead of sweat trickles down my spine. “Bowman?”

  It’s a fairly common last name. There’s no way Kodiak has time to tutor students. And definitely not Intro to Macroeconomics. That would be a colossal waste of his incredibly huge, brilliant, asshole brain.

  Merlin nods, but his gaze is trained on the doorway. My attention shifts to his reflection in the window—where I note that his friendly, nice-guy smile has turned smarmy—and then to the hulking figure now standing in the doorway.

  Dressed in a school hockey T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans is Kodiak.

  I guess it’s not so common a last name.

  His hair is still wet, likely because he came from practice. He’s holding a massive apple in his equally massive hand. His gaze shifts from Merlin to me. I can’t imagine what my expression must be—somewhere between disbelief and horror, I’m sure.

  His lip twitches, and he grabs the schedule from Merlin. Aside from being freakishly intelligent, Kodiak has a photographic memory. All it will take is thirty seconds with my schedule for him to remember every single course code, date, time, building, and room number.

  I sit there, helpless, as he scans it. His lips barely move, but I know the mental trick he’s using to memorize it, likely so he can torment me some more, as seems to be his MO recently, and during the holidays two years ago.

  He showed me his true colors then, none of them pretty.

  “I don’t usually tutor economics.” His gaze finally lifts to me.

  “I’m sure you can manage for an hour a week.” Merlin gives him a wide-eyed what-the-hell look, like he can’t believe Kodiak is passing up the opportunity.

  I would like to be flattered, but mostly I’m disgusted, and sadly, not surprised. It’s not my face that gets the attention; it’s my rack.

  I flip Kodiak the double bird. “I would rather fuck a cactus than have you tutor me.” I push out of the chair and nearly trip over my backpack in my rush to escape. I nab it from the floor and hurry out of the student services office. As I go, Merlin asks Kodiak what that was about, and Kodiak says something about obsessions.

  I loathe him so much.

  It looks like I’m going to have to bug River to help me, either that or deal with failing the course.

  I go to class, feeling less than awesome about this new development, as well as the fact that Kodiak still has the paper copy of my schedule. I would like to think it doesn’t matter, but he’s proven to derive great pleasure from making my life difficult, and I have a feeling this is only going to help his cause.

  After class, I meet up with Lovey and Lacey for lunch in the student cafeteria. I choose to drown my sorrows in coconut-milk ice cream—I’m not above using food as an emotional crutch, but actual ice cream will create more problems since I’m lactose intolerant.

  “That’s your lunch?” Lovey asks when I take the seat across from her with my giant sundae. Her plate is full of salad and some kind of vegan casserole. The cafeteria here caters to everyone, so they have great nondairy and plant-based options.

  “Don’t judge,” I say through a mouthful of ice cream and cookie bits—those are also vegan. Who knew? The marshmallows and gummy bears, however, are not.

  Lacey slides into the seat beside Lovey, her plate almost matching her twin’s. “Ooooh, looks like someone is eating her feelings. What happened?”

  “I failed a test.” I pop a mini marshmallow into my mouth. I love them when they’re frozen because they remind me of the Lucky Charms marshmallows.

  “Oh no,” they say in unison.

  “It gets worse, though.” I stab my spoon into the ice cream, digging out a gummy bear.

  Their eyes flare.

  “Worse how?” Lacey whispers.

  “I went to student services to see about an econ tutor.”

  “They didn’t have anyone available?” Lovey asks.

  “Oh, they sure did. But it was Kodiak.”

  Both of their faces fall. “Oh.”

  “And I said I’d rather fuck a cactus than be tutored by him, so obviously I won’t be going back there.”

  Lovey choke-coughs on a mouthful of spinach, and Lacey pats her on the back. “Oh my God, did you really say that?”

  “Yup.” I’m equal parts mortified and impressed with myself. It was witty, but also highly inappropriate. My mom would probably be proud.

  “That’s awesome, but I guess that means he’s still being a jerk.” Lovey props her chin on her fist. “I don’t get it. You guys were so close when you were kids. He would do anything for you.”

  I shrug and dig back into my sundae. “People change.”

  “I guess,” Lacey agrees.

  “Except BJ, he’s always a flirt and a player.” Lovey rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flush. “Anyway, back to this tutor thing. We might know someone who could help.”

  “Really?” I perk up. Most of Lovey and Lacey’s friends are really nice.

  A bright smile spreads across Lovey’s face, and she claps her hands. “You remember Dylan? You met him at the party at our place?”

  I deflate. “Oh, yeah.” The guy I bitched to about Kodiak while I was drunk off cheap coolers.

  “Well, he’s majoring in, like, some kind of business program. I don’t really know what it is, but he does all the financial stuff for the fraternity, so I bet he’d help you out.”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  She frowns. “Why not? He asked about you after the party.”

  It’s my turn to frown. “Really?”

  She nods vigorously. “Oh yeah, he said you were really pretty, and funny.”

  “He said I was funny?” I’m parroting her now, but I’d thought I made a total ass out of myself. I perseverated about it for two days, running over the things I could remember saying, wondering if I sounded like an idiot. It’s the reason I try to avoid parties in the first place.

  “You are funny,” Lacey says and takes a bite of her casserole, chewing slowly.

  Maybe he was as drunk as me and doesn’t remember all the asinine things I said.

  “Lacey’s right. You are, and maybe he can help you with econ and you can get to know each other better.” She gives me a hopeful look. “You’re not living with your parents any
more, so you can have a little fun, right? Meet someone new? Maybe date and stuff?”

  “I dated last year.” I even lost my precious virginity. He was nice, and I liked him, but it wasn’t an earth-shattering experience. Still, it felt good to be wanted and to finally have some experience that had nothing to do with a freaking silicone pleasure device gifted to me by my grandmother. “Besides, I may not be at home, but I still live with my brothers.”

  “Well, they don’t have to know, do they? And it’s just tutoring. So what if the guy who wants to tutor you also thinks you’re pretty and funny?”

  I dig another marshmallow out. “Okay. You can give him my number or whatever. If nothing else, I need the help, and it’s flattering to have someone say I’m pretty.”

  “Yay!” She claps again, causing the cherry tomato on her fork to pop off. It flies toward me, and I put my hand up, surprising all of us when I deflect it before it beans me in the head. Unfortunately, my flailing arm smacks into someone walking by, and a tray goes clattering to the floor. Something warm splashes my leg.

  Lovey and Lacey cringe, and I shudder at the high-pitched shriek behind me.

  “Oh my God!”

  I don’t want to turn around, because then I’ll be able to see how many people are staring at me. As it is, the entire table in front of me has turned around to see what the commotion is about. I can’t do nothing, though, because it’s my fault my leg is covered in someone else’s lunch. Judging by the temperature and texture, it’s likely soup.

  I turn slowly, feeling wet warmth trickling down my calf, ready to issue an apology and offer to pay for the lunch that’s now on the floor. But my voice gets caught when I realize the girl is familiar. She’s the one who was talking to her friend on the phone about Kodiak after she’d been with him that first day. Even worse, one of the other girls is in my art class.

  “Aren’t you going to apologize?” Her lip curls, and her eyes narrow. “Do I know you?”