Little Lies

by H Hunting

  “I’m sorry. That was totally my fault,” Lovey says.

  The girl’s eyes shift from me to her, and then to Lacey. “It’s your fault this klutz spilled my lunch all over the floor?”

  As if some kind of karmic god has heard my prayer, BJ drops down at the table between Lacey and Lovey. He slings an arm over both of their shoulders. “It’s my favorite set of twins.” He turns his face into Lovey and rubs his scruffy beard all over her cheek.

  She shrieks and pushes him away.

  “Hey, BJ.” The girl from the first day tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him a simpering smile. Apparently the dropped soup and my missing apology are totally forgotten.

  BJ glances at me, concern coloring his features for a moment before he turns his megawatt smile on the girls behind me. “’Sup, Bethany.”

  “Are you guys having a party this weekend?” she asks.

  BJ shrugs. “Dunno.”

  “Well, if you are, me and my girls are up for some fun.”

  “I’m sure you are.” BJ nods, but I can tell he’s fighting not to laugh, or say something incredibly malicious.

  “Okay, well, hopefully see you around.” She and her friends strut down the aisle, leaving the broken bowl and a puddle of soup at my feet. It’s actually spread all the way to my backpack. I pick it up off the floor and set it on the seat beside me. I nab a napkin and wipe the soup off my leg. It must have been some cream variety because it looks like a cross between puke and jizz. It’s also all over my favorite pale purple Chucks, which means I’ll need to wash them when I get home.

  BJ blows out a breath. “That girl is off her tits.”

  “What’s her deal?” Lacey asks, lips pursed as she watches her walk away.

  BJ shrugs, reaches around Lovey’s shoulder, and grabs a cucumber slice from her salad. “Dunno, but based on what I’ve seen, she’s been bouncing around the hockey team circuit like a ping-pong ball.” Instead of dropping his arm, he pulls Lovey in closer and pops the cucumber in his mouth.

  She rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side. “Why is it okay for guys to sleep with whoever they want and girls get labeled as sluts if they do?”

  “I’m not calling her a slut. I just don’t think it’s smart to try to hook up with guys in the same friend group. It creates unnecessary drama.” He raps on the table. “Anyway, I got to get to class. Just wanted to stop by and say hi. I’ll see you later, Lav?”

  “Probably?” The only place I tend to go other than home is the library or Lovey and Lacey’s, so there’s a pretty solid chance I’ll see BJ later.

  I use a handful of napkins to mop up the puddle of soup before we take our trays over to the garbage and head out. Lacey and Lovey both have class. While we’re walking, Lovey sends Dylan a message asking if he’s interested in tutoring a friend in economics.

  He responds right away, asking which friend.

  Lovey throws me a saucy smile as she types my name. Less than fifteen seconds pass before a new message appears:

  Which is how I end up at the library less than an hour later in one of the study rooms with Dylan. He suggested a café, but that would feel too much like a date, and I’m less likely to run into any of my family members in the library.

  The first few minutes are a little awkward, because I’m nervous and can’t remember everything I said to him when we were talking at that party. But he’s really nice and seems totally happy to help me out. He’s tall and lean with blond hair, gray eyes, and a nice smile. I pull out the test I failed.

  “Oh wow, did you take this hungover?”

  I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a joke, but not really.

  I smooth out the paper, feeling heat creeping into my cheeks. “Unfortunately no. I just really suck at all the calculations, which is kind of ironic because my mom’s an accountant.” I’m afraid I’m about to start rambling. “Anyway, we only have this room booked for an hour, and clearly I need a lot of help, so . . .” I trail off.

  The way he smiles at me makes me nervous. “I don’t mind. Let’s figure out where you went wrong, so we can get you back on track.”

  An hour later, I sort of understand where I messed up, but I don’t think Dylan has ever tutored anyone, and he tends to skip a lot of steps by saying magic happens. As far as I can tell, there isn’t any magic, just a lot of stuff that makes my brain hurt. I’ll consider myself lucky if I pass this course.

  It’s overcast when we leave the library, so Dylan offers to drive me home. It’s not far, but on the off chance the threat of rain becomes real, I agree. My palms start to sweat as soon as I get in the car. I know him just well enough to make the ride possible at all, and now that I’m alone with him, my mouth goes dry.

  A few minutes later, he pulls onto my street, and that tight feeling in my throat starts to ease up, which is good. He’s been so helpful, and I don’t want to ruin it by acting weird. I surreptitiously breathe in and out to the count of four, willing myself to stay calm and not say or do anything embarrassing or stupid.

  “Whoa, these houses are huge,” Dylan says.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  Compared to the house I grew up in, they’re not, but I’m aware they’re bigger than average. We pass BJ and Kodiak’s place, and I point to the house up the street. “I’m right here, number forty-four.” Three cars are parked in the driveway, meaning my brothers must be home.

  “Holy shit.” Dylan whistles. “You live here?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  He turns down the radio, which means we can hear the music coming from the backyard. Judging by the bass, it’s Maverick’s playlist.

  “Sounds like there’s a party.”

  I wonder if this is his way of asking me to invite him in. “My brothers probably have friends over.”

  “Right, you said you live with them.” He runs his hands over his thighs.

  “Yeah.” Awesome, I’m down to one-word answers.

  “Are they, like, cool with you having friends over?”

  He’s definitely looking for an invitation. “Uh, I guess?”

  Back in high school, some of my drama friends would come over in small groups, but the guys were usually in the friend zone, because, well . . .

  “They’re a little protective.”

  “Like, protective meaning they’ll grill me and do a background check to make sure I don’t have any speeding tickets?”

  I think he’s trying to make a joke. “Um, that would probably be on the tamer side of things. My twin can be a lot to deal with.”

  He glances at the house. “Right. Okay. Well, maybe next time we could study at my place?”

  I’m relieved that I’ve managed to get myself out of a potentially awkward situation, at least for now. “Oh yeah, sure, maybe we could do that.” I unbuckle my seat belt, wanting to get inside before someone spots the car—namely River.

  “Um, Lavender?” He’s gripping the steering wheel like he’s trying to choke it.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a party next weekend at my fraternity house. It’ll be pretty chill if you want to come. I could tutor you first or something?” He looks hopeful.

  I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I go with noncommittal. “Can I message you and let you know? I think I’m supposed to do something with Lovey and Lacey.”

  “Oh, you can totally invite them to come too.”

  “I’ll talk to them.” I want to get in the house before someone comes along and sees us here. If it’s River, he’ll flip his lid, and if it’s Mav, he’ll embarrass me. I’m leaning against the door, feeling around for the handle.

  “Okay, sounds good. I had a good time today.” He leans in, and I realize he’s coming in for a hug.

  At the same time, a loud bang on the window right beside my head startles us both. The car rocks back and forth violently, and I jerk forward, bashing my face on the side of Dylan’s head.

  BJ shouts, “No boning in the driveway!” The door is wrenched open, and I tum
ble out, smacking my head on the concrete. Stars burst behind my eyes, turning the world black and white for a few seconds.

  “Oh shit, Lav, are you okay? I had no idea it was you in there.”

  I blink through the pain and find BJ, Liam, and Lane standing in a semicircle around me. Liam and Lane are finished with college, but they still live in the city and hang out with Quinn and BJ. All three of them are staring down at me with confusion and concern. My legs are still in the car.

  I open my mouth to speak, but the words are stuck, either from shock or from hitting my head. BJ slides his hands under my arms and hauls me up as Dylan opens the driver’s side door.

  His head pops up over the roof, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He scans the massive wall of man behind me, and the color drains from his face.

  “I’m fine.” I don’t know whether to rub the back of my head or my lip, because both hurt. I go with my lip because it’s easier to reach, swiping my fingers across the bottom one. BJ grabs my wrist. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

  “You scared the crap out of us, and this is the result.” I motion to my face. My heart is pounding like I’ve run a marathon, but I feel like I’m managing this unfortunate situation pretty well, all things considered.

  I motion to the three of them. “Dylan, these are my cousins BJ, Liam, and Lane. Guys, this is my friend Dylan who was just dropping me off.”

  My cousins grunt out a variety of greetings.

  “Hey, guys.” Dylan raises his hand in an uncertain wave.

  “Thanks for driving me home.” I need him to get out of here so I can be alone with my embarrassment.

  The front door swings open, and the never-ending nightmare that is this day smacks me in the face like a long-expired sausage. Kodiak stands in the doorway wearing only a pair of swim shorts, wet hair sticking out all over the place, water dripping on the damn floor. But God, is he ever glorious. Muscle layered over muscle, thick biceps flexing as he holds the doorjamb, a mischievous grin popping the dimple in his left cheek.

  My heart seizes and gallops. I miss this version of him: the one that smiles and doesn’t hate me.

  He ruins everything a moment later by bellowing, “Who’s fucking in the driveway?”

  His gaze moves to Dylan, who looks as horrified as I feel, but as it shifts to me, his smile drops and my stomach tightens.

  “You should really go,” I tell Dylan.

  “I’ll see you around.” He disappears into his car and barely has the door closed before he’s backing out of the driveway and screeching down the street.

  I adjust my backpack on my shoulder and head for the house, steeling my spine and my nerves because Kodiak is still standing in the middle of the doorway, his face a mask of indifference. I try to brush by him, but he stays where he is, making it impossible.

  I sigh, exhausted beyond belief. I just want to go upstairs and have a good, cathartic cry. I try to mirror his apathy. “Can you move so I can get into my house?”

  His brow furrows as his eyes move over my face. He lifts his hand, like maybe he’s thinking about touching me. There’s no way I can handle that. I jerk back and swat his hand away. “What are you doing?”

  “Your lip is bleeding.”

  “Don’t act like you actually give a shit, Kodiak.”

  “Tell me what happened.” His voice is low and soft, and for whatever reason, that makes me even angrier, so I lash out, wanting to wound him the way he keeps wounding me.

  “You, Kodiak. You happened, and you ruined my goddamn life. Now get the hell out of my way.” I elbow past him, almost tripping over several sets of running shoes.

  I head straight for my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and close my eyes, taking deep breaths.

  I imagined the concern in his voice.

  I imagined the pain that sat heavy behind his eyes.

  We see what we want to, not the truth, especially when it hurts.

  Age 10

  I LOVE AND hate Halloween. Hate is a strong word, and Mom always tells me not to use it, but I feel strongly about Halloween. I love the dressing-up part, and Mom always makes me a costume. We sit and flip through picture books and look at pretty princesses and fairies and decide which one I’m going to be.

  I like that part a lot.

  My costumes are always bright and fun, so I stand out. I like clothes that make it easy to pick me out in a crowd, even though I don’t like crowds and try to avoid them.

  But I don’t like that some kids dress up like monsters and try to scare one another. I’m always afraid they’re going to try to scare me too, and then I might cry in front of other people. This makes my worry monster grow inside me like ivy, choking out all the good feelings.

  This Halloween, I’m dressed like the princess from Brave. Mom did my makeup and everything. Robbie’s in high school now, so Mom says this is his last year trick-or-treating. He still dresses up though, and he’s going as a mad scientist. It’s sort of a costume and sort of not, because he loves science—only he’s not mad. Maverick is a hockey player, which isn’t much of a costume at all since that’s what he does all the time, and River is going as Batman. It means he’s wearing all black, a mask, and a cape.

  Robbie and Maverick get to stay out later, because they’re older and don’t have to go to bed as early. I only like to do our street, and then I come home and give out candy with Mom while Dad follows the boys. But he’s not allowed to walk with them because they get embarrassed.

  Our street is busy with kids, and a lot of the houses give out really good treats like full candy bars instead of the mini ones. Queenie, who lives on the same block, gives me a special present to go with my favorite chips. It’s a felt pouch sewing kit, and now all I want to do is go home and put together the cute little yeti and beaver pouches, but I don’t want to make River come in with me because he’s still having fun.

  Whenever there’s a scary costume, River flings his arm out wide and wraps his cape around me, shrouding me in darkness until the threat has passed.

  Kodiak lives three houses down from us, so when we stop there, he joins Maverick and Robbie, and they walk ahead of us. Things have been different with us since the closet incident. It’s hard to explain. We’re closer but farther apart.

  On nights like this, I feel like he’s a million miles away, and the invisible string that connects us is brittle and thin.

  Sometimes I can feel him watching me, like he’s waiting for me to fall apart so he can piece me back together. It’s happened a bunch of times since I got locked in the closet—me falling apart and him picking up the pieces for me. He always really wants to do it.

  I know I shouldn’t rely on him. Just like I know I shouldn’t eat ice cream because it makes my stomach hurt. But I do it anyway, because in the moment, it makes me feel better. Later I have guilt for not being able to handle it on my own.

  “We’re gonna skip the next house.” River’s arm swoops up behind me, and I’m suddenly enveloped in darkness.

  “What’s going on?” A shiver runs down my spine. I can hear Kodiak’s voice to my right, and Mav and Robbie laughing.

  “It’s the haunted house, the one you don’t like.”

  “Oh.” Another shiver. “Okay.” I want to be brave enough to go to the haunted house, but after that carnival, Halloween has never been the same. Maybe it never will.

  After a few more seconds of darkness, River drops his cape and guides me to the next house. This one has cute pumpkins with happy, toothy grins. I glance at the haunted house and then away. There are too many flashing lights and ominous, ghoulish sounds.

  When we reach the door, River is the one who knocks. A lady opens it, and River says, “Trick or treat.”

  I manage to whisper the words.

  She smiles at us, and her kind eyes focus on me. “Aren’t you the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen.”

  “Our mom made her costume,” River tells her, even though I probably c
ould have if I tried hard enough.

  “Well, it’s beautiful just like you.” She tosses a handful of candy into my bag and turns to River. “And who might you be?”

  “I protect the princess,” River says.

  “Is that right? Well, in some fairy tales, the princess slays her own dragon.” Her smile isn’t as soft now; it holds something else.

  River tugs on my hand, but I stay where I am. I open my mouth once, twice, but nothing comes out. The third time I find my voice. “I would like to be that princess.”

  “I’m sure you will be,” she says with a smile.

  I want to believe her, but I’m afraid of cartoon dragons, so I don’t think I’d ever be able to slay a real one.

  I thank her for the candy and follow a scowling River down the walk. He looks over his shoulder and at the same time three huge clowns with makeup that reminds me of horror movies come running down the path, making lots of noise.

  I stumble back a couple of steps, trip over my own feet, and land on my butt on the cold, damp grass. My mouth opens in a scream that doesn’t reach my throat. I’m sucked back into the fun house with the hanging clowns, and the big teenage boys who were pushing, and the hollow-eyed, gray-toothed man. I curl into a ball and cover my head with my arms.

  I should do one of my calming exercises, but it’s loud, and River is yelling for our dad, and there’s a ghostly soundtrack playing in the background. It’s all too much. I can’t focus on anything but the panic as it sinks its teeth in and takes hold.

  Someone tries to touch me, and I kick out, scrambling away from the hands.

  “I can help. Let me help.”

  I feel the thud of knees hitting the ground beside me. “Lavender, it’s Kodiak.” Warm breath that smells fruity like candy hits my cheek, and I shiver violently.

  “It’s okay. I got you. I’ll make it better.” His voice is deeper than it used to be, like he’s hovering between kid and teen. His palm settles on the nape of my neck and curves around it.

  The wave of relief is almost instantaneous. It takes so much less effort to calm down when Kodiak is here. I know it’s not good for me. Queenie and I talk about how relying on another person to calm the anxiety, even my mom or River, can be dangerous, but it’s hard not to let him help when it’s so much easier.