Abi and the Boy Who Lied

by Kelsie Stelting

  “What is it?” Grandma asked.

  Was I really going to have the sex talk with Grandma? “Um...” My cheeks flushed just thinking of it. Maybe we should just stick to stalker letters and defense mechanisms and call it a day.

  “Just spit it out already.”

  There was my grandma. “Well, you know, sex?”

  “Is that a question?”

  I buried my face in my hands and groaned. No one passing around me on the sidewalk could hear what Grandma was saying—or cared—but still.

  “You’re having sex right now?” she cried.

  “No!” I yelled, sputtering. “No, no no, no no way! Not yet, at least.”

  I could feel her sigh of relief across the phone. “So, Marta’s abstinence comments didn’t stick?” She chuckled.

  “Okay, can I take it back? Let’s talk about the cafeteria food.”

  She laughed again. “Honey, I’m going to tell you three things about sex, and if you have any more questions, well, I’m going to need some time to deal.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay.” She drew a loud inhale and exhaled slowly. “Number one. Sex can be many things. Basic, lovely, furious...and awkward. Your first time’s not going to be a bodice-ripping, explosive—”

  “Grandma!” I cried.

  “—amazing thing right away,” she said. “Just be patient, with yourself and with Jon.”

  I stopped outside the dining hall, closed my eyes, and nodded, thinking maybe I really was sadistic for having this conversation with her, but maybe Grandma was also a genius.

  “Number two. Please be safe. There are more options for you now than I had when I was your age, and I would hate to see you and Jon put yourselves in a life-changing situation if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “And three.” She paused. “Don’t do anything you’re not ready for. If Jon’s a good boy, like I think he is, he’ll understand.”

  I hoped, with all my heart, she was right.

  Eric waved a hand in front of my face.

  I pointed at my phone and mouthed, “I’ll meet you inside.”

  He shrugged. “I can wait.”

  Well, I guess that was that for my conversation with Grandma. “Thanks for talking. I’ll call you later?”

  “Sure, honey. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hung up and put the phone in my pocket, giving Eric what I hoped looked like a sincere smile. “Sorry.”

  “That’s fine.” He held the door open for me. “Talking to your parents?”

  “Yeah,” I lied, stepping in behind him.

  “How are they doing?”

  “Great.” Could we change the subject?

  “Good,” he said.

  “I’m going to grab some food, and I’ll meet you at the table?”

  I took my time finding vegetables and healthy protein for my salad before going to sit with Eric. I was so ready for this project to be over. It wasn’t anything against him; I would just much rather be spending my lunch with Jon.

  He looked up at me from behind his laptop lid and smiled. “I think we’re almost done. Just need to review.”

  “Let me see it,” I said, sitting down. I glanced over the slides and compared what we had on the screen to my notes from class. We’d done alright. Solid B work, at least.

  I marked notes in the comment sections for which parts I would talk about and which were his responsibility and then spun it back to him.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so.” He sighed, shutting his laptop. “We’re good for tomorrow anyway.” His eyes went to my plate that was still full of vegetables hurriedly plucked from the salad bar. “What are you, a rabbit?”

  I shoved my plate away. “No, just trying to eat healthy.”

  He nodded at his plate that held the remnants of cheese and greasy meat-covered corn chips. “You’re making me look bad.”

  “Don’t you mean the saturated fat is?”

  His hand covered his chest. “You wound me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So sensitive.”

  “Don’t girls like the sensitive guys?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Jon wasn’t what I would call sensitive. More like kind, caring, compassionate, strong…

  “You’re daydreaming again.”

  This time, my cheeks heated.

  “So, why did you skip the bar early last night?” he asked. “I was hoping for another dance, you know. The risk to my feet would be worth it.”

  “Just needed some air,” I hedged. The lie came easily. It seemed like I was lying more than ever, always to protect someone else. Couldn’t they see I was the one who needed protecting? But I would have to let someone in first for that to happen.

  I put my notebook in my backpack. “Are we good?”

  He nodded. “See you in class?”

  “See you in class.”

  I went right back to my room after lunch. As I walked up the stairs to my dorm—a way I found to sneak in some extra exercise—I began feeling lightheaded. God, I needed to get more sleep. These late nights were too much for me, especially with Coach Cadence killing us in practice.

  I had to stop on the sixth floor, but eventually I made it up to my room and collapsed into my deckchair. I rested my forehead on the cool surface of the desk, and some paper pressed into the edge of my skin. As I pulled back, the envelope stuck to my forehead, then fell before me.

  Another note with my name front and center. I ripped it open and read the words.

  Starving yourself won’t make him stay.

  My eyes narrowed at the page. The message was too familiar.

  This had gone too far. There was no way this was a prankster who didn’t know when to quit. No, this was personal, and I knew just who it was.

  I sent Grandma a quick text and told her I wouldn’t be home until Saturday afternoon instead of Saturday morning.

  I had someone to see.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I hooked my thumbs in my pockets as Jon put his bags into the passenger seat of his car. He planned to meet his parents in Woodman this afternoon and ride with them to Dallas.

  A whole weekend without Jon.

  But maybe it was better this way.

  He wouldn’t be privy to my drama. The perpetual crap show that was my life. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted him to come with me to the prison. What if he saw where I came from and recognized some of that chaos in me?

  Jon traced his thumb over my chin, and I turned my eyes up at him.

  “What’s going on in there?” He kissed my forehead.

  I breathed in his touch. “Too much.”

  His lips formed a smile against my skin. “As usual.”

  I lifted a corner of my lips and pulled back.

  His hands cupped my face as he looked at me, taking me in.

  “I’m going to miss you,” I said.

  “I always miss you.”

  “Even now?”

  His lips turned into a smile. “Every second you’re not in my arms is a second wasted.”

  “Then fix it,” I breathed.

  He held me close, and I hung on to him, trying to gather all his love and support before I made a trip to see the most wicked person in my life and put a stop to these notes.

  When his lips found mine, I kissed him back, hungry for all he could give me. He was everything. My everything when I had nothing. We got lost in each other, in the moment, in the feel of our lips exploring and tasting.

  Breathing hard with heavy-lidded eyes, Jon said, “I’ll see you on Sunday night.”

  The space between us grew as he stepped back and got into his car. I stood in the parking lot until he’d gotten onto the main road and then started walking back to the dorms.

  If running had taught me anything, it was that I needed to keep going to keep the pain from catching up with me. Because if I stopped, it would be right there, ready to
drag me down.

  Chapter Forty

  Anika and Kyle had already left by the time I made it back to our room. There was a note from Anika on my desk that said Have a great weekend!

  Guilt swept through me. I was kind of a crappy roommate. Anika and I should have been building a friendship, but instead I was obsessing over my never-ending list of problems.

  Mo’ money mo’ problems?

  More like mo’ messed up parents in jail on drug charges mo’ festering anxiety that touched every part of your life. Or something like that.

  Evan was right. Everyone built up college like it was some castle you went off to after high school graduation, where you would automatically meet friends and have fun and “find yourself.” Whatever that meant.

  I knew who I was. That was the problem. I was the daughter of two convicts. A recently obese teenager. An average student. And now a below-average member of the track team.

  The girlfriend of a guy who was probably seconds away from realizing how good he was and leaving me.

  I needed to stop thinking like that. He chose me. That was his choice. I hadn’t forced him into that. He could have had any girl. Had Denise. And passed.

  If I weren’t pulling my weight (however much of it there was) on the track team, there were other qualified girls lined up for the spot.

  So here I was, this broken vase with the gold filling, alone in my dorm room for the evening. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid because I knew the sender was trapped behind bars. She could send notes all she wanted, but there was no way she was coming anywhere near this campus.

  Part of me wanted the night to last forever because I knew what tomorrow would bring. Another part—probably my stomach—ached with nerves, wishing I could just get this over with.

  I called Nikki and asked if she’d meet me in the dining hall for supper. I needed a distraction.

  When I arrived, she was already waiting by the check-in counter, texting.

  “Hey,” I said, giving her a smile.

  She eyed me. “Are you tired?”

  My cheeks warmed. “Gee, thanks.”

  “No, really,” she said. “You look anemic. We’re getting you a steak.”

  I shoved my hands in my sweatpants pockets, uncomfortable. “You mean mystery meat?” I tried to joke.

  She handed her card to the person swiping everyone into the dining hall. “Come on.”

  I followed her in, and she made sure I got a big helping of stir-fry meat from the wok and lots of leafy green vegetables. At least she didn’t push it on the salad dressing.

  We sat down, and she put her elbows on the surface of the table, using her teeth to open a packet of ketchup. “Why don’t they have a dispenser like everywhere else?”

  I picked at a piece of the meat with my fork and shrugged. When it entered my mouth, it felt slimy—chewy. I barely managed to swallow it.

  “Big plans for the weekend?” Nikki asked.

  Oh, you know, just seeing my mom, who wants me dead, to confront her about a few threatening letters. “Define big,” I said instead.

  She laughed. “What, are you losing your v-card or something?”

  I stared at my plate, trying not to let the heat in my cheeks show. “Don’t call it that.”

  “So you are?” She gushed. “You and your guy looked pretty close at the bar!”

  I lifted my gaze and shook my head. “No, that wasn’t my boyfriend.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Just some guy from class,” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “Work, work, and…” Her eyes darted back and forth across the room, making sure no one was listening to us. “Oh yeah, more work.”

  I laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, it’s my dad’s rule,” she said. “He pays for my pickup and gas and a little spending money here and there, and I help him out on breaks.”

  A pang of jealousy swept through me. I wished I had a dad who supported me at all. I reached for my phone, for a distraction from this, and saw the date.

  A year ago today, my dad beat me so bad even the thickest foundation couldn’t hide the proof.

  A year ago tomorrow, I started school at Woodman. Met Jon. Sat at the lunch table with Stormy.

  “What?” Nikki asked.

  I shook my head, blinking my eyes fast at the moisture that had suddenly appeared there.

  “You can tell me,” she said, her eyes wide, earnest.

  “I…” I covered my mouth. “It’s a long story.”

  She gestured at my plate. “You have lots left to eat. We clearly have time.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  I went back to my room, feeling freer and lighter somehow now that Nikki knew my secret. If you could call it that. I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t understand what I’d been through—but she cared, and that was more than enough.

  After I’d changed and gotten into bed with my laptop, ready to veg out with some television, my phone vibrated with a text message.

  Stormy: I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

  Stormy: Miss you chica :)

  I smiled at the screen and sent a reply. Somehow, I felt so far away from Stormy and my life in Woodman, even though I was only an hour away.

  I thought of my friends and what they were doing right now. Roberto would be back in Woodman for the first time since basic training. Evan and Michele were probably on a date, catching up. Frank and Stormy had to be spending time together. And Andrew and Skye? They wouldn’t be home until the semester break since flights were so expensive.

  Spending time with the group wouldn’t feel the same without them. Without Jon.

  He and his parents were probably close to Dallas by now. I took a deep breath and called his number.

  After a few rings, he answered. And so did his parents.

  “Hi, Abi,” Glen said.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Marta chimed in.

  “You’re on the car phone,” Jon explained.

  “Oh, hi.” I tried to make my voice just the right amount of sympathetic. “Mr. Scoller, how’s your cousin doing?”

  “She’s stable at least,” he said. “Bad case of pancreatitis. The doctor said these things can turn at any minute, so…” His voice cracked. “We needed to pay her a visit.”

  “Of course,” I replied. “I hope she gets better.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  The rush of wind against their car was the only sound for a moment until Marta said, “Abi, tell us about college, your classes? Jon said you’ve been working hard on a group project?”

  “Yeah, we presented earlier today, and I think it went okay!” Prof Warren had actually told us good job afterwards, not sarcastically either, which was kind of rare for her. “They started me out with twelve credit hours since I’m in track and had kind of a rough last year of high school. I have a few friends on the track team, and my roommate is actually from Roderdale.”

  “Good job, sweetie!” Marta commended. “Jon told me your roommate is his roommate’s girlfriend?”

  “Yes! Isn’t that weird?”

  “A strange co-inky-dink for sure.” She laughed. “Just don’t go switching rooms for hanky panky.”

  “Mom,” Jon groaned at the same time I buried my face in my pillow and tried not to die right there of embarrassment.

  “Just teasing,” she said. “Well, it sounds like things are going great for you. It’s about time.”

  My lips twitched. They were going well. Except for the busyness of it all. And the threatening letters. And the fact that Jon knew nothing about it. I needed to tell him. Before I left in the morning.

  “Jon, I—” I began at the same time Mr. Scoller said, “Sorry, sweetie, we’re pulling into the hospital! We love you!”

  The line went silent and I stared at my phone, waiting. If Jon texted me, I would tell him, just get it over with. But he didn’t. He had bigger things to worry about
, like his cousin that was practically on her deathbed and his dad who was losing someone close enough to be a sibling.

  Eventually, I turned my phone off and fell into a restless sleep. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, and I needed my strength to deal with them.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  When I couldn’t stay in bed any longer—around six in the morning—I dressed in the most bland, prison-visit-approved clothing I could find, made some coffee in the knock-off one-cup coffeemaker Anika brought, and then stepped into the hallway, lugging all my things for the weekend.

  Nikki sat on the floor, right outside my door.

  I staggered back, gripping my heart. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Standing up, she giggled. “Scared you?”

  Rolling my eyes, I set my duffle down and folded my arms across my chest. “Not at all. I almost have a heart attack every time I leave my dorm room.”

  She patted my arm. “You’ll be okay.”

  Silence hung between us for a moment as I stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

  “Oh!” she said, like she frequently terrified the crap out of people in the morning. “You want to know why I’m here.” She gestured at my bag. “I know this is hard for you, and I just wanted to be there with you.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but she kept going.

  “You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself, even if you want to.”

  I thought of whether it would be possible to argue with her, but judging by the set of her chin, the odds were against me.

  “You can ride along,” I finally said, “but they won’t let you in to see my mom.”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “Now, grab those letters.”

  “What?” My blood chilled just thinking of them.

  “If it’s her sending them, you need to turn them in to the warden. I did some research, and this type of thing could affect whether or not she gets parole.”

  “Seriously?” My eyes widened at the thought of my mom being released from prison. In my mind, I was here, and she was there. We wouldn’t meet again.