Love and Lies

by Duffey, Jennifer

  “You're right. It is important, to me at least. Like I said though, I need to get to class. Afterward, I promise I will tell you. Give me some time to get everything straight in my head.”

  “One day. I'll give you one day.”

  Our lips came together in a kiss that was as much a promise that I'd talk as it was a promise that we'd be in bed together more often. If we were going to make this relationship work, if I was going to figure out my own reservations and troubles, we had to slow down. Sleeping with Eric, being this close to him, got me so worked up it was impossible to think straight. For that reason alone, we needed to take a few steps back.

  Eric smacked me on the ass when I stood. I looked at him over my shoulder and giggled. Our relationship was on the right track—for now.

  * * * *

  Two minutes to spare.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I slipped into my chair at the back of the room. Professor Ames wasn't in class yet, giving me time to get out my pad and pencil. As soon as he walked in, shut the door, and set his timer, we were to begin our drawings. He wrote the theme on the board so we could prepare in advance. Today's theme: trees. What the hell? Trees. Not fun at all.

  The bell rang, and I held my pencil in my hand, the tip poised over a clean sheet of paper. Too bad my mind went blank. Oh, I could draw a tree. But there was no creativity to that. Too simple.

  The lock clicked as it engaged. Time to work—if you knew what to do, that was.

  Mr. Ames began his walk around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. The black loafers he always wore near silent on the tiled floors. Black slacks and today's pick of shirt was a very lovely shade of periwinkle. Most men wouldn't have pulled it off the way he did, but paired with a teal with lemon accent tie, it looked good.

  “Umm, Professor Ames?”

  “Yes, Ms. Stein?”

  “I'm not sure what to draw. Trees seem so…basic.”

  “That is correct. The purpose of this theme is to stretch your artistic mind. Think about it from a collage standpoint. Consider all of the different shapes of trees. You know more than you are giving yourself credit for. I know you've already recalled the most common tree. What about a cedar, can you draw one that represents Christmas? Or is there another event in your life that could be represented by a tree? Take your time. As always, I want quality over quantity. In the afternoon session, we will put your sketches into a multimedia presentation. Keep that in mind as you move through the exercise.”

  Typical Professor Ames. Ambiguous and clear as mud. I let his words take form while I studied the clouds passing through the sky outside. I purposely avoided looking across the way. If I stared at them too long, I wouldn't be able to see anything beyond that shape. Representation of an event in my life. Slowly, my mind took over, and the lines formed without my guidance. Like words of a story, the arches and angles formed one tree then another. Before long, I looked down to see a forest of leafless trees. Branches and limbs stuck out in all directions, tangling in one another.

  I wasn't sure what it meant, but I loved the way my pencil and mind worked together to produce such strong emotion. In the middle of the barren forest was a heart. Each tree molded itself to meet another until the centerpiece of my project truly represented the path my life had taken the last few years. Gnarled and broken, yet pulled together by heart and love. From friends, self-determination, and guidance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I stared at the drawing from mixed media. Professor Ames told us to take them with us and draw an opposing picture. Since my original was mangled trees forming a heart, I figured the opposite would be full, vibrant trees breaking down. Maybe there was a way I could actually incorporate a broken heart. As I sat there contemplating, I let myself fall into oblivion. The place where I zoned out and let my soul take over. According to Alec, that's when I did my best work.

  I drew and dreamed. Dreamed of the last few months, happiness with Eric, fun with Logan, hatred with Eric, love with Alec, safety and contentment with Eric. Always back to Eric. My emotions were all over the place with him. I wished I had a mom who cared enough about her daughter to call just to see how things were going.

  Twenty minutes later, I still sat on my favorite bench behind my apartment building, staring at the blank page. The complex I lived in was set up in a U-shape just off from the main campus. In the middle was a well-manicured gathering area for the residents. The grass was lush and squished under your feet in the spring, especially after a quick rain. But it was October, and the grass wasn't bright green anymore. It'd started to fade to the dead brown that depressed me during the winter. For once, though, the trees hadn't dropped all of their leaves, and I was surrounded by a multitude of red and orange hues. It should have made my project easier since the assignment was to focus on blending colors in a natural environment.

  I groaned out loud. I couldn't get the lines and curves just right. Blending the colors wasn't a problem, but I was a perfectionist when it came to my lines. I tossed my pencil and sketchpad on the bench next to me, turned my iPod up, and took a break. Not only did I need a break, but I wanted a distraction.

  The flap of my bag lay open in front of me, and a brown book poked out of the corner. I didn't recognize it at first. The pages flopped open to Logan's writing. His journal. I'd forgotten I had it.

  When I originally picked it up off the seat, I told myself I'd return it the next day. After everything that had happened lately, I’d forgotten to give it back. The first time I looked, there was nothing to see. But as I thumbed through, the entries became longer and more winded. My name started popping up throughout the writing. First it was only occasionally, then the closer I got to the end, the more it appeared. Logan was going to need a new journal soon. The last ten or so pages were filled with trips he wanted to take, songs he wanted to write, connections he wanted to make, and other mundane information. In the margins he'd written snippets of recent conversations. I wasn't sure what he would do with the quotes—write a song maybe.

  Then I saw Eric's name. Logan had written it then traced over it until it was bold and nearly torn through the page. There were multiple lines under it as well. I studied the attention he paid to Eric's name and the repeated tracing of his name.

  On the next page were paraphrased snippets of a conversation he’d apparently had. The handwriting was neater, but I could see the indentations from pressing the pen too hard. I continued reading. No harm no foul, right?

  Boy, was I wrong.

  I found out yesterday why Eric's stuck around with all of us. Carissa's parents paid him to follow her around. He said he calls and gives them regular updates, and then they pay him.

  I can't believe he's doing this behind her back. I mean, sure, I don't know her deepest secrets, but I know her well enough to know she's going to be pissed. He told me he wants to quit. He tried to once, but said some shit happened and he kept it up. Wouldn’t give me any more details than that.

  It's probably a good thing she doesn't love him, cuz' that would be a serious kick in the balls. Would it be better for her to hear this from Eric or me? No, that's a stupid question. Of course she'd want to hear it from Eric. The worst part about all of it is I would never in a million years have accepted the offer. I wish I had some clue about why she chose Eric over me. She knew me before him. I’ve made it well known I want to date her.

  I knew this was old news—Logan was happy with Mari already. But why was I just finding out? And why had Eric denied everything? Mom hadn’t lied to me like I tried to convince myself. What was I supposed to do? There was no going back after this. Was there?

  Regardless of the questions now running around in my head, I couldn’t get past the shock. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I kept reading.

  Damn it, am I really that bad of a guy? I've got money, my dad's got power, I can sing and play guitar. What's Eric got? Besides his looks, NOTHING. Other than dancing and apparently her parents’ approval. But if I know Carissa, that won�
��t be a point in his favor. There has to be some way I can show her I'm better. I just don't know what it is.

  He thought that I wanted looks, power, and money. I didn't want any of that. I just wanted to be happy and be with someone who understood me for me. Eric understood, or so I thought. He'd stuck around after I told him what happened with Igor. That meant something.

  My chest felt like a brick wall had been laid on it. I couldn't breathe, and tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them go. There was no reason to cry over this. So what if Logan didn't know me as well as I thought he did? Eric was the one I'd chosen. Logan and I were friends, and I was fine with that. We weren't meant for each other. He had Mari now.

  But he was working for my parents? He’d denied it. Only one way to find the truth once and for all. No lies of omission, no changing the subject. I immediately called Eric.

  “Hey, princess. I didn't expect to hear from you tonight. Don't you have a project you have to finish?”

  “Did you quit?”

  “Quit what?”

  “Are you still working for my parents? Think very carefully before you answer, Eric. Lying to me right now would not be the smartest idea.”

  “Carissa, what the hell? What could have happened that you don't believe me? Fuck. What's going on?”

  I couldn't tell through the phone if he was lying or not. The best way would have been to see his eyes, to watch his movements. But having him come over to my place would have been a mistake. My resolve would have weakened, and there was a good chance that no matter what he said, I would have believed him. I meant more to Eric than I did my own parents. So why did I doubt him?

  Because he hadn't given me a reason not to. That's why. Sure, he made nice. Flowers, showing up at the airport, some good dates. But the more I thought about it, the less it seemed that he had done anything to actually rebuild our trust. Yet, I'd let him back into my heart without question. Stupid, stupid girl. Well, I wouldn't make that mistake again.

  “When I talked to you about the call with my Mom, I knew something was off, but I didn't dig any deeper. Then you told me everything about your family. Tonight, I was daydreaming and started reading Logan’s journal, which I should have given back, but hadn’t. Looks like it was a good thing, too.”

  “Okay.” He drew the word out, his confusion evident even through a phone call.

  “You told him about working for them and calling to quit. And that's why Mom called me the first day of school. Why she said what she did when I called her. To make sure you followed through with your promise of sticking to the contract. Naturally, I wanted to know what else she'd tell me. The first time I talked to her I asked, hypothetically, if you had called again and quit for good this time. Do you know what she said?”

  “Considering the state you're in right now, I have to assume she said no. That I haven't quit. But that's not true. Your mom wouldn't know because I called and talked to your dad the second time. There's a chance he hadn't told her.”

  “You're right. I thought about her not knowing, too. Except Dad tells her things like that. He keeps a lot from her, but when it comes to something that involves me, Mom knows.”

  “Don't do this. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I quit Carissa. You have to believe me. I love you. We've both screwed up...a lot. I'd be an idiot to think I could lie about quitting. When I told you I wasn’t working for them, it was the truth. You believed me then.”

  I had believed him, there was no arguing his sincerity. Until now. It was there in writing. Regardless of what he was doing now, it had been a lie. Everything should have been in Eric's favor. Our relationship was getting stronger, I'd seen the truth in his gaze, but doubt nagged me.

  “Eric.”

  “You're making a mistake. If you do this, I won't come back. We're through. You wanted trust, but you aren't willing to give it. Don't fucking say the words I know are on the tip of your tongue.”

  Oh, God. What was I doing? Was it wrong? Did I believe him? He wanted the money and quitting meant passing that up. It made too much sense for him to keep the job and lie to me than it did to quit. I didn't want it to be true, I wanted to believe him.

  “I'm not saying I don't believe you. I...I don't...what are we going to do, Eric? This isn't a relationship if we doubt each other every time we hear something we don't like.”

  “We'll work through it. My brother was killed, and it was my fault. My father beat the shit out of me after my mom left. You're parents laughed at you when you told them you'd almost been raped. Face it, Carissa, we are two screwed up people. But we can get past all of it, together. Please give me a chance to show you that. That's all I'm asking. Please.”

  I sat on the edge of the bench, silent, listening to Eric's breathing.

  “Maybe...”

  “No. No, maybe. Fuck it all. I'm not giving you a choice, I'm going to prove it, if it's the last thing I do. Earlier I told you that I'd earn your trust back. This makes it painfully obvious that I haven't accomplished that. I'm not going anywhere, Carissa. I promise. You will see. I'll show you. Meet me at your apartment in ten minutes. We’re going to do this face-to-face not over the phone.”

  * * * *

  We sat on my couch, facing each other, not talking or touching…just staring

  He ran his fingers through his hair and fisted chunks of it in hands.

  “Why'd you do it?”

  “Why did I do what?” Eric tilted his chin up, but his eyes were half closed. He was trying to look at me and avoid me at the same time.

  “It. Take the money. Why?”

  “I don't know.” Eric studied the fork sitting in front of him. “Because I needed the money. I didn't have a rich mommy and daddy to pay my bills. It sounded like an easy way to make some cash.”

  “Why you? And there's no need to be a jerk. Remember, you're the one spying on me. Not to mention you know how I feel about my parents and why.”

  He shook his head. “You're right. I know how you feel about your parents. That was a low blow, and I'm sorry.” Eric sighed, and then told me how he ended up as my “bodyguard.” My parents somehow obtained a list of students who had applied to Beaux-Artiste. His name was one of the first they came across that lived in New York. Since he accepted the deal, they didn't need to call anyone else. Everything was set up via direct deposit and email. So far, Eric hadn't met my parents face to face. He agreed to call each week and tell them what was going on and how I was doing. At the end of the month, they made a deposit into his account of three thousand dollars. If he kept me out of trouble, they paid an additional thousand dollars a month. I got the how, but he managed to get through the whole explanation without telling me why he took the gig.

  “So is that why you are dating me, Eric? Do you even care about me, or am I just a walking bank? You put up with me and my friends so you can make an easy buck.” Tears burned my skin as they fell down my cheeks. I trusted him, not just with my friendship but with a secret that no one else knew. He'd found out about Igor before my best friend in the world. It was no wonder we’d hit if off as quickly as we had. Eric had planned it all. Seduced me. Gained my trust. All that was gone.

  “Look, I can't lie to you, Carissa. Yeah, I took it not knowing you or your friends, and I needed the money. But...yes, there's a but. Every second I've spent with you was worth it. Carissa, please look at me and know I'm not lying. I don't want to lose you. I will do whatever you ask. Answer your questions, make a fool out of myself, get on my knees and beg, anything. But I need you to answer one question for me. How do you feel about me? Honestly. Because you know how I feel about you.”

  Before I could answer his question, I wanted—no needed—to know how he felt about Alec and Logan. Not that they had anything to do with him and the arrangement with my parents, but they were important to me. Maybe the timing wasn't perfect, but I needed him to tell me what he thought about them. I realized keeping my friends was as important as Eric not working for my parents. “You say yo
u care about me, you will do whatever it takes, and answer any questions I have.”

  He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Carissa, please tell me what you're thinking. I know you're mad. I can see it here.” He smoothed the creases on my forehead. “I've screwed up, I know that. Please tell me what to do to make it better. You make me crazy. Dating isn’t something that I do. That wasn’t even part of the plan with your parents. They only wanted me to watch out for you. Said they gave you a year by yourself and now they needed to know more about things going on down here. Apparently, someone sent them a letter telling them about all the trouble you were in last year. Whether or not you believe it, I think your parents care about you.”

  A letter? Trouble? There’d been neither of those things. I attended my classes, kept my nose clean. Other than a few bad dates here and there, I only had two friends: Alec and Logan. Whatever lies my parents had fed Eric worked better than I would have thought. Care about me—right. The only thing Mom and Dad cared about was their reputation. That’s what they worried about, their daughter ruining their precious reputation while I was on my own. Well, screw them. I was nineteen, a legal adult. They no longer had control over my actions.

  Yeah, except that they did. I still needed them to pay for school. It was too late for me to apply for a scholarship now. If I could get through this semester then next semester I’d apply for a scholarship and cut them out of my life completely.

  I looked into Eric’s eyes. “I can't. I don't know.” I paused, not sure what to say. Then it all came together. With unexpected intensity my words came out sharp and bitter, “That first day, when you asked me out. You mentioned my parents. Oh, my God.”

  “Yeah, I did. I wanted to tell you then, but I'd planned on quitting after you said yes. A lot has happened in a short period of time. You have no idea how fucking sorry I am. No idea. I'm begging you to believe me, then take some time and decide what you want to do about us. That's all I'm asking.”