Little Lies

by H Hunting

  A few weeks into the winter term, my costume design professor asks if I’d like to help out with the winter production. Despite how busy my schedule is, there’s no way I’m going to pass up the opportunity.

  I also take on a very part-time job at the library. It’s not that I need the extra cash. If I ask my parents, they will most definitely put money into my account, but I like the independence and the peacefulness that comes from being surrounded by books. I like that here, in college, I can shed the shy, tongue-tied girl of my youth, escape the past that defined me, and be a more confident, competent, less anxious version of myself. It’s not easy, but it’s empowering, and I feel like I’m finally coming into my own.

  The job basically fell in my lap. I’d gone to the library to study between classes and noticed someone had left a stack of books on a table. Half an hour later, they were still there, so I took it upon myself to shelve them. Another student mistook me for someone who worked there and asked where she could find a book on biochemical engineering, so I showed her. It just so happened that the woman in charge of hiring watched it all happen and asked if I’d like a job. I said yes.

  It’s a Friday evening, and Kodiak has an away game. This means he won’t be home until late tonight, which is good because I need time to work on one of the costume pieces for the upcoming production. The girl who’s playing the lead has been stress eating, and last night she had a huge meltdown because her costume is too tight.

  I took the blame and told her I must have miscalculated the seam allowance—I didn’t—and could most certainly fix the problem. So that’s what I’m doing.

  It’s closing in on ten when Professor Martin pokes her head in.

  I pop out my earbuds. “I’m nearly done with the alterations.”

  She checks over her shoulder before she says, “You are a godsend for doing this.”

  I wave the comment away. “Can’t have the star of the show feeling uncomfortable or it’ll affect the entire performance.” Besides, I like her. She has great respect for those of us who like to stay behind the scenes, and she’s always been nice to me.

  She nods her agreement. “I have some news for you.”

  I can’t read her expression. “Oh?”

  “It’s about the internship we discussed.”

  “The long shot for the off Broadway company? I never expected to get it since I’m a sophomore, but I love that you asked me to apply.”

  I mean that. Professor Martin has never coddled me. She’s unaware that I’ve spent the majority of my life overprotected and sometimes over-loved by my family. It’s nice to have someone assume I’m capable and competent. And now I truly feel that way.

  She smiles slightly. “What if I told you they want you for the internship?”

  It takes me several long moments to digest that news. “Seriously?”

  Her grin widens. “Most seriously, Lavender.”

  “Oh, wow.” I sink back into my chair and exhale a long, slow breath. Within seconds, my mind becomes cluttered with too many thoughts. What if I’m not good enough? Where will I live? How am I going to manage the city on my own? Will I have to take the subway? What will my parents say? What about Kodiak? “This is kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

  Professor Martin sits on the edge of the desk. “You would be the youngest intern they’ve ever had, but if you don’t think you’re ready, we can try again next year.”

  “But there’s no guarantee I’ll get it next year.”

  “I’d like to say invariably you would, but I can’t know that. Every year is different, and it’s highly competitive. You have incredible talent, Lavender. There will most definitely be other opportunities for you, but this one is special.”

  “Wow, okay. I figured the chances I’d get it were slim to none.”

  My dad is going to shit a brick. I love him to pieces, but good Lord, he could barely handle me being an hour away while living with my brothers. And the whole freaking Kodiak thing has been another source of freak-out for him. Mom had to intervene and tell him that threatening one of his best friend’s sons with castration was not a good way to manage us dating. I want to be ready for something like this, but there are so many unknowns.

  “Why don’t I email you all the information, and you can discuss it with everyone you need to? I don’t want you to feel pressured, but they’ll need to know either way by the end of next week.”

  I nod. “I’ll have an answer by then.”

  THE HOUSE IS empty. River is out with friends, and Maverick is at the game with Kodiak. Despite the fact that it’s closing in on eleven, I call my mom.

  She answers on the second ring. “How is my favorite daughter? And why in the world are you calling me on a Friday night? Shouldn’t you be out breaking rules and doing things I don’t want to think about?”

  I laugh. “I took a break from the rule-breaking this weekend. Are you busy?”

  “If you call listening to your dad sawing logs while I watch bad reality TV busy, then yes. What’s up? Things still okay with you and Kody?”

  “Things are great with Kodiak.” And they really are. Loving him is so much easier than trying to hate him.

  “I’m glad to hear that. And you’re being safe and all that jazz, right?”

  “Yes, Mom. We’re being safe.”

  “I can literally hear you rolling your eyes at me. You know it’s my motherly duty to ask. Anyway, I’m guessing you didn’t call so I could ask awkward questions.”

  “You would be correct.” I fill her in on getting the internship and remind her that it’s in New York and I’d be there for two months. I finish up with, “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

  “It sounds like it. It also sounds a lot like you’re unsure whether you should take it, despite it being so awesome. So why don’t you tell me what your reservations are?”

  I love how easy my mom makes it to talk things through. “Dad is gonna freak if I take it.”

  “Honey, I will deal with your dad. And I don’t buy for a second that he’s the real reason you’re on the fence. Are you worried about being on your own?”

  I sigh. “Maybe a little, and New York is huge.”

  “It’s a bigger, grumpier, exciting version of Chicago, and nothing you can’t handle. You’ve proven that this year.”

  “They have housing options where I’d be with other interns, so that would make it less scary,” I tell her.

  “For all of us, including your dad.” Her voice softens. “If this is about Kody, just say so, and we’ll figure it out.”

  “I don’t want to leave him.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’ve been absent from each other for a lot of years, and you’re relearning how to be together. Not wanting to leave him makes perfect sense. But ask yourself this: What would be harder in the long run—two months of long distance where you get to live your dream and do something you’re incredibly passionate about, or walking away from the opportunity and always wondering if it was a mistake you can’t unmake?”

  “They’re both hard, for different reasons.”

  “You’re absolutely right. And not to add another level of stress to this, but Kody is graduating this year. He’s already postponed being called up twice, and they’re ravenous to get him on a team. Would you want him to say no to his dream when the opportunity presents itself?”

  “Of course not. When he gets called up, he has to go.”

  “Don’t you think he would want the same for you?”

  She affirms what I already know but am having a hard time facing. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d push Kodiak to take the opportunity. “I have to take the internship, don’t I?” My stomach churns with excitement and anxiety.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, other than make sure you’re having safe sex. But in this case, I believe you want this very much, and I want it for you. I would say you’re young, and that boyfriends come and go, but I don’t know that’s true for you a
nd Kody. You two have survived a lot, and you can survive this too. Love is an amazing gift, but sometimes it hurts, and unfortunately, the two of you know that all too well.”

  Present day

  IT’S ALMOST ONE by the time we get back from the game. Maverick hits the bar with some of the guys, but all I want to do is get back to Lavender. Despite winning the game, my body is still humming with nervous energy. There were scouts hanging around. There’s been a lot of chatter lately about the draft picks and contract offers coming at the end of the year—things I don’t want to think too much about, especially since more than one West Coast team is looking at me.

  I stop at my place so I can hang up my hockey equipment and put a load in the wash. I also take a quick shower so I smell less like bus exhaust. Then I make the short trek down the street to Lavender.

  The nights I don’t sleep beside her are few and far between. Her bed is only a queen, but I don’t mind the lack of space since it means she’s always curled into my side. I climb the stairs, the pit in my stomach getting deeper instead of closing up the closer I get to her. It’s late, and if she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her, so I slip into her room without knocking.

  I’m surprised to find the light beside her bed on, although sometimes she falls asleep reading. She sits up, and that heavy feeling in my stomach spreads through my limbs, making my cells feel like they’re made of lead.

  I cross the room in three quick strides. My skin itches with panic as I take in her red-rimmed eyes and the tremble in her chin. I cup her warm, damp cheeks between my palms, but it doesn’t help settle the nerves, especially when two tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “I need to tell you something,” she whispers.

  A deluge of horrible thoughts come flooding in, overwhelming me. She doesn’t want me anymore. There’s someone else. She’s pregnant. I drop down beside her, and have to remind myself to breathe. “Okay. I’m listening. Freaking out, but listening.”

  “I’m sorry.” She covers my hands with hers. “It’s not bad, but it’s going to complicate things.”

  I nod and wait.

  “I was offered an internship opportunity to work on costume design this summer for an off Broadway production company.”

  My eyes widen, but almost immediately, excitement and pride give way to understanding, and that heavy feeling I’ve been carrying all night finally makes sense. “In New York?”

  “Yeah.” She swallows thickly, more tears welling.

  “The whole summer?” I don’t need to ask why she’s upset. We’d planned to spend at least part of this summer together. She was going to work at the library and take a course, and I’d coach kids’ hockey, like I do most summers, and train. And now she’s going to be hours away, too far to drive for a visit. We’ve been avoiding the other inevitability—draft picks at the end of June—but there’s no escaping this.

  “It’s two months. It starts basically as soon as we’re done with exams, and I’d be there all of June and July.”

  I’m trying to figure out how often I can fly there to see her. Selfishly, I want her to stay here with me, to find something local so it’s not as difficult. But I can’t be selfish when it comes to her future. Lavender is insanely talented, and she’s going to do great things.

  “You have to take it.” I shift her so she’s straddling my lap.

  “I know.” She traces an infinity symbol over my heart. “But it won’t be easy to go.”

  “What if I came with you?” I scramble for a way to keep us together.

  “To New York?”

  “We could get an apartment. I’ll get a job, and then you won’t be out there alone. Then we can still have the summer together.” I don’t want to deal with the thing that worries me most—what’s going to happen after the summer. So many things are already up in the air, and I just got her back. I don’t want to let her go.

  Her eyes light up with hope, but dim quickly. “What about hockey? You play all summer.”

  “There are training camps in New York. I can talk to my dad and see if we can get me hooked up out there.”

  “What if that won’t work?”

  “Then we’ll figure it out. But you have to go, Lavender.” I force the words out, even though I feel the pain of them physically in my chest.

  She runs her fingers through my hair, her smile sad. “I know I do. And I love the idea of you coming with me, if we can make it work. But even if we can’t, I need this. I don’t want to regret not going, and I don’t want that regret to taint what we have, not when we’ve already been through so much to get back to each other.”

  “We’ll make it work, no matter what.”

  I’m aware this conversation is one we’re likely to have again, sooner than either of us wants. Two months in New York should be totally doable. But I worry about the inevitable distance we’ll face come the fall.

  But I don’t say any of those things. Instead, I capture her mouth with mine and get lost in loving her.

  Present day

  THE NEXT MORNING, Kodiak broaches the subject of coming with me to New York with his parents, which spurs an impromptu parental visit. We have enough time to shower off the sex smell and tidy up the living room before the ’rents descend.

  I fire off a warning to River, in case he decides to come home. He’s been a lot better about things since he and I had it out, but that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about his reaction to me going to New York for the summer. He’s still River.

  Kodiak’s parents and mine arrive together in a brand new giant truck at two in the afternoon. Lainey’s behind the wheel, though. I freaking love Kodiak’s mom almost as much as I love my own. She and I have a lot in common, minus being geniuses, and seeing this tiny woman get out from behind the wheel of a boss truck is awesome.

  My mom engulfs me in a hug and whispers, “I promise it’ll be fine. Just let your dad feel like he’s being heard.”

  I figured this wouldn’t be as simple as everyone thinking it was a fabulous idea for Kodiak and me to move to New York for the summer.

  Lainey and my mom have brought enough food to feed an entire hockey team. They go about setting up a charcuterie board while our dads raid the beer fridge.

  “Should we do this in the living room or at the dining room table?” my dad asks, draining half his beer in two long swallows.

  Yeah, he’s definitely stressed.

  “I would say the living room, but that’s where the guys hang out and play video games, so there’s no telling what’s stuck between the couch cushions.” Two weeks ago, it stunk to high heaven in there. I forced the guys to clean their shit up because I couldn’t even walk by the room without gagging. Turns out, it was a rotten hot dog that had ended up under the lounger.

  “Dining room it is.”

  Kodiak grabs me a cooler, likely out of habit. Plus, it’s the weekend. I take a seat beside him. His foot is tapping on the floor, and he keeps swallowing and blinking.

  Our moms sit across from us, with a dad on either end. It reminds me a lot of the family meeting we had after the Courtney incident back when we were kids.

  I link my fingers with Kodiak’s under the table.

  “Is that alcohol?” my dad asks, nodding to the bottle in my hand.

  “It’s a cooler, and it’s, like, two-and-a-half percent. I’d have to drink a case to even get a buzz.”

  “You’re underage.” He glares pointedly at Kodiak.

  “Pretend we’re in Canada, Dad. And I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you partook in some drinking when you were my age.”

  “I lived in Canada when I was your age.”

  “Exactly.”

  “She’s not doing keg stands, Alex. Let it go,” Mom says.

  He leans back in his chair with a frown. “Is this what’s going to happen if you go to New York? Is Kody going to be buying you alcohol? You know people make a lot of bad decisions when they’ve been drinking.”


  My mom snorts. “Like making out in public with hockey players where people can take photos that end up on the internet for all eternity?”

  I bite my tongue so I don’t laugh, or say something to make this situation worse.

  My dad shoots my mom a look. “You’re not helping, Vi.”

  She bats her lashes and arches a brow. “I’m not trying to.”

  My dad turns to Rook, like he’s looking for him to weigh in. “Well, Kody has always proven to be fairly responsible, and Lavender has never gotten into trouble as far as I’m aware. So I can’t really see my son going out and getting your daughter sloshed for shits and giggles.”

  My dad seems to realize this isn’t a great argument to start with, so he switches gears. “Moving in together is a really big step, even if it’s only for a short period of time. Merging your life with someone else’s isn’t seamless, and moving to a big city is another big change.”

  He laces his hands and rests his forearms on the table, leaning in and using his soft dad voice, the one he used to pull out when I was having a particularly bad panic attack. “Maybe it would be better to wait a couple more years until you’re a little older, Lavender. This is the first time you’ve ever lived away from home, and New York isn’t within driving distance. I don’t want you to take on something you’re not ready for.”

  I fully expected him to take this stance, and to pull the you’re-not-ready card again. “I appreciate your concerns, Dad, but I feel like I am ready. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I may not have another chance to do it. As far as moving in together goes, Kodiak and I have pretty much been living together this entire semester. And if you remember, you all agreed that he could move in here with me and Maverick and River after the fire.” I arch a brow.

  “Well, that was before the two of you were involved,” Dad argues.