So here I was, alone on a Friday night, watching a rerun of Friends and eating a bag of Skittles. I glanced at the clock on the DVR and couldn’t believe it was only eleven o’clock. Sophie left over an hour ago, pouting when I refused to join her. It was getting harder and harder to come up with reasons to get out of going. Tonight, I’d claimed a headache. It was a feeble excuse, but she hadn’t called me out on it.
My phone rang, startling me. I pressed pause on the remote and sprinted to the kitchen, excited that someone was calling me. The word “Pathetic” was flashing across my forehead in neon-orange. I looked at the screen and squealed with delight when I saw Courtney’s name and picture.
“I love you soooo much right now!” I screamed into the receiver.
“Wow, I’ll call more often if that’s how I’m greeted each time.” It was so great to hear her voice.
“You just saved me from opening a second pack of Skittles.”
“What?”
I laughed, and it sounded like the laugh of a hysterical person. Too many nights with the TV and my eReader for company had finally taken their toll. “I’m just rambling. Never mind . . . What’s up?”
“I wanted to know if I can come stay with Sophie and you until I can move into the dorms.”
“HELL YES!”
“Dammit, Sienna! You just blew out my fucking eardrum,” she scolded before laughing. “Don’t you need to ask Sophie?”
“No, she loves you as much as I do. Besides, she’s been sleeping at Conner’s about half of the time anyhow.”
“No crap? That’s awesome. She told me it was getting serious. I can’t wait to meet him!”
“You’ll love him . . . Adam too.”
“Who’s Adam?”
“Um . . .”
“Oh. My. God. Sienna Trudeau, are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I replied too hastily. “It’s not like that. He’s Conner’s roommate and best friend.”
“Is he hot?”
“Super-hot.”
“Single?” she probed in a tone I was all too familiar with.
Jealousy and panic spiked in my veins. “He’s a major player. Stay away. PROMISE ME!” I wanted to take back the words the second they flew out of my mouth. Way to be completely obvious, dummy!
“Whoa! Okay, I promise. Are you sure you’re not interested in this guy?”
Damage control was needed. I dialed the crazy down a notch and calmly said, “No, I’m not interested in anyone right now. I just don’t want you mixed up with someone who’s only into one-night stands.”
“One-night stands can be fun.” Shit. I’d forgotten that she liked an occasional one-night stand.
I let out a long sigh and very reluctantly admitted, “I guess I kind of like him.”
“Kind of like him? Did you forget who you’re talking to? I can smell your bullshit from a mile away. You really like him.”
“Fine. Maybe you’re right. But I’m not interested in becoming anything with him. I just don’t want to see him with anyone else. Does that make sense?” No, you make no sense at all anymore.
“It makes perfect sense. You don’t have to worry about me. Off limits. Got it.”
Relief blanketed me. Seeing him with a random girl would suck, but seeing him with one of my best friends would be unbearable.
“Back to why you called, when will you be here?”
“Thursday afternoon, if that’s okay?”
“Yes. Yes. YES! The sooner the better.”
“Don’t have an orgasm.” She was full out laughing. Apparently, I hadn’t dialed down the crazy as far as I needed to. Her laughter trailed off, and she asked, “Want to go out that night? Do you think you can tear Sophie away from Conner for a girls’ night?”
“Absolutely.” I was excited that I was going to be able to go out with just my girlfriends. This was just what the doctor ordered.
“Can I invite Cassie to come with us?”
Crapsicles. I’d obviously known that Courtney would get a new roommate when I’d moved out of the dorms. What I hadn’t counted on was her getting someone like Cassie. That chick annoyed the living hell out of me. If you looked up pretentious in the encyclopedia, you’d see her picture. She was petite, had huge boobs, and bleach blond hair. She was cute enough, but in her eyes, she was the most beautiful girl ever created. To top it off, her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Cross that out—more like Freddy Krueger gloved knives on a chalkboard.
“Of course. The more the merrier.” I tried to sound perky since Courtney liked her.
“You’re the best. I’ll see you Thursday. Love ya, and thanks a bunch.” She made kissy noises in the phone, causing me to smile.
“Love you too. Bye.”
Regardless of having to see Cassie, I was very excited about seeing Courtney. I sent a text to Sophie with the news.
ME: Hope ok I told Courtney could stay w/ us starting Thurs til school starts.
I didn’t expect an immediate reply since she was at a noisy bar and probably wouldn’t hear her phone. I was pleasantly surprised when she answered back almost immediately.
SOPHIE: Fo shizzle!! Will be fun.
ME: Girls nite at bars thurs too.
SOPHIE: Count me in.
ME: Cassie coming :(
SOPHIE: Boo :(
ME: Necessary evil.
SOPHIE: I know. FYI sleeping at Conner’s 2nite.
ME: Cool. CU 2morrow.
SOPHIE: Peace out
ME: Word.
I went back to the couch to finish Friends. My butt was hovering over the cushion, ready to plop down, when the intercom buzzed. Confused and startled, I walked to the small box on the wall.
“Hello?” I cautiously asked, pressing the Talk button.
“Just me, Princess.” My stupid heart fluttered as I buzzed him in.
I opened the door, leaned out into the hallway, and impatiently waited for Adam. When he appeared, not only was he sinfully sexy in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, he was carrying a brown paper bag that filled the hall with the mouthwatering scent of Chinese takeout.
A huge smile lit up my face when he held up the bag and said, “I come bearing gifts.” He slid past me into the apartment and walked toward the living room.
I shut the door and followed behind him, wiping the smile off of my face before he saw me looking like a complete fool. I sat down on the floor next to him.
“What are you doing here? I mean, I’m glad you’re here. I just didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
He started to pull the containers of food out of the bag, setting them on the coffee table. “I missed you.”
“Really?” I asked, the word sounding too optimistic.
He shook his head and flatly replied, “No.”
I flicked the back of his head with my finger. “Ass.”
“Is that the way you treat someone who brings you food?” he questioned, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his head.
“Depends on what you brought me. If it’s Crab Rangoon, then yes.” I scrunched up my nose. “I hate seafood.”
“Picky, picky, picky,” he taunted, slowly shaking his head. “I was hoping that you would say something along the lines of ‘Oh Adam, I’m so happy to see you.’” He was using his best damsel in distress voice. “I can’t believe you gave up your night out to come see me . . . Gasp! And you brought me takeout too!” He clutched his hand over his heart, and a giggle escaped my lips at his theatrics. “You’re the best man in the whole universe, Adam Korbell! Please let me get naked and thank you properly.”
I shoved him as he chuckled at his own words. I mockingly replied in my own damsel voice, “Oh, thank you, Adam. You’re the best man in the whole universe.” I batted my eyes at him. “Please, oh please, let me stay dressed in my pajamas and not thank you properly.”
He pointed his finger at me, moving it up and down. “Your so called pajamas consist of a tiny tank top and even tinier boxers. I’ll count it as a win.” He winked. Damn hi
m and his winks.
Okay, so maybe I was a tad underdressed, but at least I’d put on a bra. “I’m dressed for bed. It’s not as if I knew you were coming over and rushed to find something skimpy on your account,” I said in my own defense.
“I’m not complaining, so stop getting your panties in a bundle . . . You are wearing panties under those little shorts, aren’t you? Wait.” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that. Just let me imagine.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes. “If you aren’t going to thank me by getting naked, at least give me a little lovin’.” He turned his face to the side and tapped his cheek.
I gave him a chaste peck on the cheek before hopping up to get two bottled waters from the fridge and plates and forks. When I returned, I peeked into the four open containers. Sweet and sour chicken was in the last one. Jackpot!
“Did you know I love sweet and sour chicken?” I asked him as I piled it onto my plate.
“Nope. I took a guess and got a few options to be on the safe side. Figured you might like one of them.” He filled his plate with General Tso’s Chicken. I gestured to the paused Friends episode. He shook his head. “No TV. Talk to me.”
I shut off the TV. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, then took a huge bite of my food. Amazing.
“The topic of majors came up at the bar tonight, and it occurred to me, in all of the time we’ve spent together, we’ve never talked about that. So, Princess, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
Charmed by the way he phrased the question, I answered, “A ballerina. You?”
His eyes danced with amusement. “Space cowboy.”
I smiled at his reply. “You’d make a pretty good space cowboy.”
“You wouldn’t make a very good ballerina. I’ve experienced your dancing skills first hand. If I recall correctly, they’d make other ballerinas blush.” There was a devious twinkle in his eyes.
Forget about making a ballerina blush, he made me blush crimson from head to toe. It was the first time either of us had alluded to our little dance floor make-out session since that night. “I’m going to be a social worker,” I blurted, needing to redirect the conversation back to neutral territory.
He stopped his fork midair and set it down. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“Huh.”
“Hey, that’s my word,” I teased.
“Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He cocked his head. “Maybe.” He paused, seemingly contemplating something. “You do know that social workers usually don’t make much money, right?”
I frowned, offended. “Is that all you think I care about?”
“No,” he quickly replied. “It’s just that I know you’re used to . . . a certain lifestyle, and it would be hard to keep it on a social worker’s pay.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I hissed. “But I have a large trust fund, so money is not an issue. I want to be a social worker.”
He gave me a perplexed look. “When will you stop surprising me?”
“When you stop pigeon holing me,” I retorted.
He smiled genuinely. “I’ll try to stop. Honestly, I think it’s great that you want to be a social worker. What made you choose it?”
“My mother is big into coordinating charities, and my dad is a surgeon. They both help people. I’m not a charity coordinating kind of girl, and I could never be a doctor, but I’ve always known I wanted to be someone who helped people too.” I stopped talking when I noticed Adam hadn’t eaten a bite. “Eat your food.” He huffed at my mini scolding and then began eating. “One night, when I was about fifteen or sixteen, I got out of bed for a glass of water and overhead my parents talking in my dad’s study. My dad was telling my mother about a little girl he couldn’t save that day. She had died of Shaken Baby Syndrome. He went on to talk about the bitch mother who wasn’t even remorseful for what she’d done.” I teared up, and Adam handed me a napkin.
“I get it,” he said softly. “You don’t have to keep talking if you don’t want to.”
“I’m okay.” I wiped my eyes. “My dad said the little girl was covered in bruises—some old and some new. I wanted to vomit picturing what my dad had witnessed. I went back to bed without ever making my presence known, but I couldn’t fall asleep that night. The story of the little girl stuck with me, and I decided that I wanted to be a social worker for children. Maybe I can prevent something like that before it happens.”
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. I was struck speechless by the gesture. “I love that you surprise me, Princess. I hope you never stop surprising me.”
Butterflies, the beautiful kind, took flight in my stomach. However, I played off the tenderness of the moment by shrugging as if it was nothing and switching the focus of the conversation to him. “Your turn. What do you want to be when you stop being a space cowboy?”
“A high school math teacher,” he replied nonchalantly. “No real reason besides I like math.”
“I didn’t know you like math . . . I don’t believe that’s the only reason you want to be a teacher.”
“I like math because I’m good at it, and it was accounting or teaching. I think I could handle teenagers better than I could handle receipts and paperwork.”
“I think you’ll make a great teacher,” I told him sincerely. “But you’ll have to fight the teenage girls off with a stick,” I added, smiling coyly.
He laughed, and we both ended the conversation, so we could keep eating our now slightly-cold food. When we were too full to eat another bite, Adam took the leftovers to the fridge and the dishes into the kitchen. I laid lengthwise on the couch, my upper body propped up with a throw pillow, relishing in post sweet and sour bliss. Adam came back to the couch, picked up my legs, sat down, and placed them on his lap.
“What’s the real reason I’m graced with your company tonight? Were you not having a fun enough time at the bar?”
“Nah, the bar was fun, but I got hungry and knew you were home. I didn’t want to eat alone.”
“Awww . . . Nice try. I think someone really did miss me,” I chimed.
“Keep telling yourself that.” He held up two fortune cookies. “I found these in the bottom of the bag.”
“I can’t believe I forgot about the cookies. They’re my favorite part,” I told him with a small grin.
“Mine too,” he said, grinning back. He let me choose which one I wanted. “Open them together on the count of three?”
“Yep.” It was all I could muster. He wanted to open his cookie at the same time. To most people that would be insignificant and completely trivial. But to me, it was monumental. That was the exact moment I realized that I didn’t just like him . . . I had actually started to fall in love with him. How did I let this happen? I scrambled to make a quick assessment of my feelings. I wasn’t fully in love with him, that much I was sure of. But I was getting there, and that was an extremely slippery slope to tread. I should’ve seen this coming. I had chalked it all up to sexual attraction, friendship, playful banter, and harmless flirting. But in the back of my mind, I’d known there was more to it, slowly manifesting until this moment when everything crashed to the forefront of my thoughts.
Adam waved his hand in front of my face. “Hello? You still there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Just spaced out, I guess.” Don’t act differently. Don’t let him know anything has changed. Remember that to him nothing has changed. Pull it together, Sienna!
Adam counted backwards from three, unaware of my epiphany. We tore open the thin plastic wrapper and cracked open the cookies at the exact same time before pulling out the tiny slips of paper. “What does yours say?” he asked, without looking at his first.
I read my fortune aloud.
“What’s meant to be will always find a way.”
My lips curled into a small smile. “I like my fortune.”
“What if what’s meant to be ends
up not being something good?” Adam asked quietly, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear the question.
I furrowed my brow. “You shouldn’t be so pessimistic.”
“You’re right,” he said apologetically.
“I’m always right,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Pshhh. Now you’re just being delusional.”
“Whatever. What does yours say?”
Adam looked at his fortune and read it aloud.
“If you desire something you’ve never had, you will have to do something you’ve never done.”
“I like your fortune too,” I said. His face was unreadable. “What? You don’t like it?”
“Sure. It’s fine.”
I nudged him with my foot. “It’s fine? Come on, Adam. There has to be something you desire that you’ve never had,” I taunted playfully.
His face paled, and he hesitated. “Not until recently.”
“What is it?” I asked, my curiosity peaked.
He grinned, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not tonight.”
“Okay,” was my only reply. I was disappointed, but I didn’t want to push him to share something with me if he didn’t want to. I decided it would be best to just shift the conversation. “Thank you for bringing food,” I said, flashing a small smile. “It was really nice of you. I’m glad you came over.”
A gloriously handsome smile appeared. “You’re welcome.” He paused, and I saw him glance at the clock. “It’s getting pretty late,” he observed.
“I’m not tired,” I answered, but then it dawned on me that maybe that was his way of hinting he wanted to leave. “But I understand if you’re tired and want to go,” I amended.
“No, I’m not tired.”
“Good. Do you want to watch a movie?”
He shook his head. “No. Keep talking to me.”
“Um . . . What about?”
“I don’t care. Anything. You choose.”
An idea popped into my head. “I get to choose? Well, in that case, since I have you here all to myself, I think we should play a little game.”
Believing Lies Page 12