HowtoTellaLie

by Delphine Dryden

  Allison decided to drop the whole subject, although she knew it was never Danny who had held Tess’ gaze at all those football games. She wasn’t watching the tight end with the big shoulders and the shaggy blond hair, who drank a six pack of beer every Friday and Saturday night and—it had startled Allison to realize Tess knew this—had probably still managed to sleep with at least half the cheerleaders and a good quarter of the drill team girls.

  No, Tess’ interest had always been elsewhere. Tess had only ever had eyes for the quarterback, even though she refused to admit it. Jake Hogan. He had returned to Cranston a few years ago and since that time Allison noticed that, although she complained about it every time, Tess seemed to find any number of excuses to go home every few weeks. This local color story was just the latest in the series.

  “Yep, it was your dad cooking,” Tess said with a laugh. They pulled up to the curb in front of Allison’s house and waved as they got out of the two-seater. Their fathers, not twins but still looking too much alike to be anything but brothers, were standing in the side yard next to the big charcoal grill. Smoke was already pouring generously from the coals, and the two men were staring earnestly at the embers and making final adjustments; another flake of mesquite here, a high point in the coals knocked down over there, and then Allison’s uncle Stuart produced a heaping plate of steaks and started placing them carefully over the heat.

  “Ally, just in time. Put your bag inside and then get me the marinade from the counter in the kitchen, please. With the brush.” Her father had barely looked up from his serious task, and he spoke gruffly, but when Allison stopped to hug him he smiled almost shyly and kissed her on the forehead. Her uncle, greeting Tess, gave her a half-hug in passing as she headed for the short set of steps that led to the kitchen door.

  Allison was almost knocked over by her cousin Mikey, all six foot two of him, barreling through the screen door and vaulting down all three steps. Hard on his heels was a Golden Retriever, tongue lolling out to the side, entire body wagging in anticipation as the boy turned mid-flight and flipped a flying disk across the wide lawn behind the house. The disk made it almost to the end of the yard, where it sloped down toward the creek, before the dog snapped it from the air and returned with the toy and his tail held high.

  “Who is that?” Tess demanded.

  “Wabash,” Mikey said with a grin that probably felled high-school girls at twenty paces. “He’s our new mascot.”

  “He’s your brother’s folly, Teresa,” said Uncle Stuart.

  “You never let me and Lindy have a dog. We begged you, and you never let us have one. And now he gets one? So unfair!”

  “Tess, you sound like a twelve-year-old,” Allison pointed out. “Here, boy!”

  The animal galumphed over to Allison, his fur flopping with each step, and sat politely while she knelt to pet him.

  “He’s gorgeous, Mikey. And he’s so well behaved. Where did you get him?”

  “Golden Retriever rescue group in Indianapolis. He only stays with me because the coach’s little girl is allergic. He’ll be coming to all the games this year.” He ran a hand fondly through the dog’s thick ruff and Wabash looked up at him with obvious devotion.

  “Totally unfair,” Tess insisted, but stooped down and let the dog lick her face.

  Allison continued inside to fetch the marinade, dumping her backpack on a chair. The familiar smells of the kitchen greeted her, along with a flash of a memory of her mother standing at the kitchen sink, smiling out the window as her father passed by with the lawnmower. The kitchen always took her right back to the year she was sixteen, as though time had stopped in this one room. Even now, thirteen years later, Allison always expected to walk in and see her mother in the kitchen, as she had every day after school while her mother still lived. Sometimes it still made Allison cry, that horrible moment of memory and realization. After her mother’s death, she had started entering the house by the front door after school. She didn’t realize why until years later.

  Coming to herself and shaking off the moment of melancholy that the kitchen time warp so often caused, Allison left the room quickly. Saucepan and brush in hand, she returned to the yard.

  The tradition was that the family would eat outside at the picnic table then proceed in as many cars as necessary to the first home game. Most of the town would be there. Allison tried to get herself into the mood as she devoured her steak, but was still feeling a little detached. When she heard her cell phone bleep, telling her she had received a text, she jumped at the harsh electronic noise that seemed so out of keeping with the picket-fence surroundings.

  It was a short text, and she wasn’t surprised to see it was from Seth.

  Seth Brantley: Hey princess, did you bring your laptop?

  She smiled and looked around. Nobody was paying any attention; they were all still eating and chatting. With an eagerness she found a little disconcerting, she thumbed the buttons and composed a reply.

  Me: Yep. It’s shackled to my wrist, you didn’t notice?

  Seth Brantley: Your dad have a decent connection?

  Me: Yes, why?

  Seth Brantley: Marielle bailed on us again. For a hot date.

  Me: The nerve!

  Seth Brantley: I know, right? Can you come raiding again?

  She tapped her fingers thoughtfully over the keys, debating. She had her laptop, she even had her headphones and microphone in her computer bag, and she could easily devise a good reason for needing to return to her father’s house before ten. But was it a good idea to let herself be tempted into a repeat of the post-raid activities they had enjoyed last Friday?

  “Who are you texting?” Tess asked, looking over her shoulder. Allison automatically covered the screen with her hand, blushing as she did so. “Is it Professor Love?”

  “Stop!”

  “What’s his name again? Seth?”

  “Yes, it’s Seth. His name is Seth, and that’s who I’m texting, and would you please shut up now?” Allison spoke in a muffled hiss from the corner of her mouth, hoping against hope that her father hadn’t heard. Her hope was dashed a moment later.

  “Professor Love? Allison, something you want to tell us?”

  “No, Daddy. Tess is just joking. It’s somebody from work.”

  “Oh, well, if that’s all,” her father replied, giving her an all too knowing look.

  “Dad!”

  “Stu, let’s get these youngsters to the game,” he said, turning to his brother and smiling.

  “Right you are, Tom, they probably need to be kept out of trouble. You ready to go, Michael? Didn’t eat too much, did you?”

  “No, sir.”

  By Allison’s standards the boy seemed to have eaten enough for a family of four, but she knew the food intake requirements for teenaged boys were very different from her own.

  She managed to punch out a quick, “Yes, call me later”, to Seth under the table. As they headed for their cars, Allison realized she felt giddy, like she was walking on air. She was more excited about that evening than she could ever remember feeling about the social activities following a hometown football game.

  * * * * *

  The game was a rout, with the local boys sweeping the visitors off their feet literally and figuratively over the course of the evening. Exuberant and still pumped with adrenaline, Mikey and his friends departed straight from the field just as Tess had predicted. And, also as predicted, Tess and Allison were invited by their local friends to go sing karaoke and drink at Benny’s, the nicer of the two local bars.

  “I can’t believe you’re just abandoning me,” Tess hissed, when Allison told her she was planning to go straight home with her father rather than proceeding to Benny’s with the gang.

  “Use your famous powers of deduction, Tess.” Allison waved her cell phone at her cousin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  “Oh my God. You are going home so you can cyber?”

  The question fell over an unfortunately timed lull
in the babble of conversation, and Allison got a few funny looks before their old friends started chatting around them again.

  “Thanks. Thanks so much for that,” Allison whispered furiously. “Everybody from high school already thinks I’m a total geek, why don’t you just hammer the last few nails in the coffin, Tess? No, I’m not going home so I can cyber. I’m going home so I can play on the computer. It’s the Friday-night raid.”

  “Wow. That’s actually even worse, in a way. You don’t need anybody else to hammer those nails home, Ally.”

  “I’m going now. Enjoy your evening. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.” Allison scanned the group of a dozen or so, letting her eyes rest on one tall, dark-haired figure in a royal blue shirt that nearly matched his eyes. “Have a good night, Jake. Take care of Tess for us.”

  She dodged Tess’ attempt at a slug on the arm and jogged to her father’s car just in time to catch a ride home.

  Chapter Four

  It was an odd feeling to sit in the basement rec room, wrapped in a blanket against the chill, and log in to the game. The couch was the same one she had sat on while watching videos with her friends. Horrible green and brown tweedy plaid, which she had tried to disguise during high school with a cheap floral slipcover. It was the place she had come perilously close to losing her virginity once or twice, back when her virginity was something she still wanted to keep. She had kept it until her freshman year of college, at least. But this place, this paneled room with its ancient couch, was still essentially a place of her childhood. Another time warp, like the kitchen. She had spent countless hours down here playing, reading, helping her mother do the laundry. Later, after her mother had died, it was where she came to do the laundry by herself and cry without being interrupted.

  It was a place where she knew her father wouldn’t hear her, unlike the living room or her bedroom. Allison knew, even as she descended the steps and settled onto the faded tweed of the couch, that by ensuring she wouldn’t be heard she was acknowledging the possibility that something other than game play might occur over the course of the evening. She tried to push that possibility to the back of her mind, where she could examine it later if she chose to.

  The laptop cast its glow, pulling her in as the loading progress bar crept across the page. She logged into the voice chat program and watched as her screen name joined the list of names already signed on. Seth, his brother and four of the others from the previous Friday. Another two names she didn’t recognize.

  “Hey, Ally’s here,” said a voice that sounded like Drew’s.

  “Hi, everyone,” she said quietly into the headphone mic, hoping she wouldn’t have to talk any louder to be heard.

  The hot pink text of a private message was flashing in the chat window even as the main screen of the game came online.

  Notmyrealname: Thank you for playing! I was worried you wouldn’t.

  Aeiou: This was my excuse to get out of going to the local dive and singing karaoke with people from high school.

  Notmyrealname: And here I thought it was because you enjoyed the company. I’m wounded, madam.

  In the voice chat Drew was telling another bawdy joke, and some girl was complaining about the high price of ingredients for health potions in the game. Seth reminded everybody to start heading toward the dungeon they would be raiding. Allison mounted her character up on the winged horse she preferred to ride for longer trips and steered her in the direction of the road to the dungeon. She was just a short distance away, fortunately, leaving her plenty of time to get there and still chat with Seth.

  Allison scanned her last reply and wondered why she had worded it that way, turning their interaction into an excuse, a way to avoid something else rather than a goal in itself. The thought felt uncomfortably like a hard truth about herself, something she didn’t want to think about.

  Aeiou: Ulterior motives. I showed you mine, are you planning to show me yours?

  Notmyrealname: Only in the game.

  On screen, their characters were among a small group standing just inside the dungeon entrance, waiting for the rest of the party to arrive. As Allison watched, the robe, pants and boots disappeared from Seth’s wizard. The cartoon figure danced a jig, wearing just his cloak and pointy hat along with a Speedo-sized pair of shorts. She giggled and typed in a quick command, disrobing onscreen and making her character prance around Seth’s like a well-armed pole dancer while other characters slowly drifted in.

  “What the hell are you two doing?” Drew demanded. “Can we have some focus, here?”

  Allison hastily ended the dance. She shifted her concentration to keeping herself and her friends alive as they began to work their way through the layers of horrifying creatures. Their ultimate goal was to get to the center of the labyrinth where the biggest monster of all lay in wait.

  At least she tried to concentrate. Seth was in fine form in the game, but also managed to keep her thoroughly distracted with a string of comments in private chat that had Allison alternately giggling like crazy and squirming in her chair with pent-up need. By the time the final “boss” was defeated and the loot divided, she felt ready to explode.

  Notmyrealname: That giant man-snake had designs on you, snow elf. I could tell.

  Aeiou: Jealous much?

  Notmyrealname: Not particularly. I’m secure. Once you’ve had wizard you never go back.

  Aeiou: I haven’t exactly “had” wizard, of course. And that snake was pretty well built.

  Notmyrealname: Well, if it’s a well-built snake you’re looking for…

  Aeiou: So you say through the safety of the internet.

  Notmyrealname: Ah, no wonder I’ve been limiting myself to cyber sex in your case. We must never do this in person, princess, it would spoil everything.

  Aeiou: I believe I’ve expressed that same sentiment.

  Notmyrealname: But doing it online is a definite must. Speaking of which, are you naked?

  Aeiou: Not a chance. I’m in a damp, chilly basement, wearing ratty jeans and a sweater and wrapped in a quilt, hoping like hell my dad doesn’t wake up and decide to come check on me.

  Notmyrealname: So it would have to be pretty quick then? And no voice chat?

  Aeiou: I mean it would have to be when I’m back in my apartment with the heater cranked and my dad about eighty miles away.

  Notmyrealname: You never got up to anything down there when you were a teenager? What was the point of having a basement rec room then?

  Aeiou: I guess if I’d been a skank, the point would have been to use my rec room like a cheap motel with a revolving door. Crazy me, I just had friends over to watch videos and eat chips.

  Notmyrealname: Such a waste! If I’d known you then, I definitely would’ve been angling to get you down there alone.

  Aeiou: Oh yeah, Romeo? And then what? My overprotective dad has super hearing.

  Notmyrealname: So I would have gone slowly, so as to avoid startling you. No sudden moves. Lots of whispering sweet nothings in your ear. And I would have used all my mad skills to drive you insane but then remind you to be quiet while you were coming your brains out.

  Aeiou: You had these mad skills even in high school?

  Notmyrealname: Oh yeah, I was a sex god even back in the day. No, of course not. I was completely clueless in high school. But I certainly would have tried my best to get my hands into your pants, that’s for sure.

  Allison paused, trying to decide whether to go in the direction Seth obviously wanted to lead her. It was tempting, but it really did feel strange to be contemplating such a thing while sitting where she was sitting. She fidgeted in her seat again, the seam of her jeans suddenly feeling too rough against her sensitized core.

  “Oh, what the hell,” she muttered, and started typing again.

  Aeiou: So I’m here, on my ratty couch in the basement, wearing jeans and a red sweater because the team’s colors are red and blue. I have a big quilt wrapped around me because it’s always chilly down here. My dad has pr
obably been asleep at least two hours. We’re horny high-school geeks who have just closed their laptops after the Friday-night raid. Go ahead, woo me.

  Notmyrealname: Dear Lord.

  Notmyrealname: I’m under the quilt with you. It’s not right after the raid. We’ve been necking for about an hour already and I have a massive hard-on.

  Aeiou: Do you really?

  Notmyrealname: Working on it. So I slide my hands under your sweater and start running them up and down your back. By the way, does your bra unhook in the front or the back?

  Aeiou: In the front. I swing a leg over and straddle your lap so you can have better access.

  Notmyrealname: Thanks. After a while I get my nerve up and go for a grope. I cup both your breasts under your sweater, and I can feel your nipples even through your bra. I start squeezing a little, then try playing with your nipples to see what you’ll do.

  Aeiou: I lean into it and moan. Possibly I also grind my hips a little, but I don’t really know what that’s all about yet.

  Notmyrealname: That’s okay, I know exactly what that’s all about. My hands go to your hips and press you down harder, and I put my mouth over your nipple and blow hot air there, wondering if you can even feel it through the sweater and bra.

  Aeiou: Oh, I feel it all right.

  Notmyrealname: Can you feel my cock? It’s throbbing. You are so hot I can feel it even though we’re both in jeans.

  Aeiou: I can feel that too. It feels good, but I’m still wondering what all the fuss is about.

  Notmyrealname: I must not be working hard enough. Where was I? Oh, I put my hands back under your sweater and this time I go straight for the clasp of your bra. I unsnap it and push it out of the way so I can feel your skin. Your breasts fit perfectly into my hands but I want more. I pull the front of your sweater up and dive for your bare nipple with my mouth and latch on before you realize what I’m up to.

  Aeiou: Don’t be silly, of course I realize what you’re up to. I put up a token resistance. I whisper that I shouldn’t let you do that, I’m not that kind of girl. I remind you my dad is sleeping just upstairs. But my fingers are running through your hair.