Epic Lies (Epic Fail Book 2)

by Trudy Stiles

  “He’s been great,” I say and smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “He’s a keeper. Don’t let him go,” she smiles. “So, where are we going tonight?” She hops off the bed, changing the subject.

  “I’m not connected with the party scene,” I say. “I’m sure we’ll find something to do.”

  “I’m getting in the shower. Let’s plan to head over to Fraternity Row in about an hour,” she says. Derek moved into the Epsilon Phi house, and I’m sure they’re having a party tonight. I’m not really big into frat parties, but it’s the first weekend back at school, so I’ll make an exception just this once. At least I’ll get to see where Derek lives now.

  But first, I need a nap.

  Mia is dancing down the sidewalk, singing some song that constantly played over the radio this summer. I finally got it out of my head yesterday, and now she’s belting it at the top of her lungs. “Here we are!” she says as we walk up the stairs to Epsilon Phi. Music booms from inside, but it doesn’t look too crowded yet. Good.

  I plan to find Derek and suggest we leave and go back to my room. Mia will be bouncing around all night, and after our talk today, I think I may want to take the next step with Derek. I think I’m ready.

  We walk through the doors, and the standard stench of beer fills the air. “Ew,” I gag, and Mia laughs. We’ve been to plenty of parties on campus that smell the same, but stale beer soaked into carpets is not an attractive smell.

  The first person we see is Rob. “Hey, girls. Good to see you.” He smiles at us both, but he’s stiff. Mia isn’t his favorite person since she broke his heart last year.

  “Hi,” I say. “Is Derek here?”

  “Oh, yeah. Our room is upstairs. Last door on the left. Can I get you anything to drink?” he asks.

  “Nothing for me,” I say.

  “Show me to the bar,” Mia says and loops her arm through his.

  “I’ll find you in a little while. I’m going to go up to see Derek.”

  “Toodles,” she says, waving.

  I walk up the stairs and down the long corridor toward Derek’s room. Several fraternity brothers are playing Nerf basketball in the hallway, and the ball flies over my head. “Sorry!” They call out after me.

  “No problem,” I mutter.

  I stop in front of his door and bring my hand up to knock when I hear a strange noise from inside. What the hell was that? I grab the doorknob and twist.

  Soft music fills the room, and the curtains are drawn. Heavy breathing travels through the air, and that’s when I see them.

  Derek is naked, leaning over a girl whose legs are spread wide in the air.

  And he’s fucking her.

  I hold my breath as I watch the two of them together, and a scream lodges in my throat.

  The girl gasps when she sees me, and Derek’s face turns pale. I hold onto the doorknob as if it’s the only thing keeping me up. I begin to wobble on my feet as the girl tries to cover herself. He attempts to do the same.

  “Giselle,” he says as I’m frozen in place. Tears fill my eyes, and I shake my head slowly.

  A stabbing pain in my gut almost topples me over, but I rush down the hallway before I puke. Another Nerf basketball bounces off the top of my head just before I run down the stairs and out the door.

  And I keep running.

  Anger boils inside of me. Rage consumes me. That motherfucker has been telling me for almost a year how much he loves me. That he’ll wait for me. Blah-fucking-blah. The image of him pounding into that girl makes me run faster. My fists are tight, and my arms are pumping, propelling me through campus. People and buildings blur in my peripheral vision, and I do everything in my power to keep from screaming. I gave him a year of my life. He proclaimed his loyalty and love to me for a FUCKING YEAR!

  I reach my dorm and take the stairs two at a time. My adrenaline is a force, and it’s driving me beyond my limits. This year, Mia and I are on the eighth floor of our dorm. Eight flights of stairs zoom by as I barrel up them all. I’m breathing heavily when I reach my floor. When I enter my room, I scan it for signs of Derek. They’re everywhere.

  The vase that holds the flowers sits on the desk next to my bed. I swipe it and tear the flowers from it, shoving them in the garbage. I contemplate throwing the vase against the concrete walls, but I think twice and shove that in the garbage, too. Pictures, notes scribbled on napkins, candy boxes, stuffed animals. They all get shoved into the garbage in our room. I rip out his t-shirts that I have tucked away in my drawers and get rid of them, too. Everything I can find that reminds me of him, smells like him, is gone.

  Once the garbage is full, I tie up the bag and drag it down to the garbage chute. I stuff it in and listen to it topple down the shaft and hit the compactor on the first floor. I want to hear it get crushed and then incinerated.

  I want his lies compacted and flattened.

  And then burned.

  Dax

  Present

  FROM MY PATIO THIS MORNING, I watched Giselle leave with a group of people, who I assumed were her co-workers. There were at least five or six of them in all, and she lagged behind the group, looking as if she were disconnected and not having fun. Everyone else was laughing and speaking cordially with each other, but not Giselle. She hugged a notebook against her chest, a pen stuck in her hair, holding her bun together. Her eyes drawn, staring down at the ground as she walked.

  She looked miserable. And it’s all my fault.

  Why did I say those things to her? Why did I kiss her? Why did she let me?

  I’m not in a frame of mind to start any kind of relationship, and I certainly don’t want to just hook up with a girl like Giselle. She’s perfect and innocent, and I would destroy that with a one-night stand. She’s a normal girl, someone who would have normal relationship goals. I don’t do normal.

  But–I’m so drawn to her, mesmerized by her innocence and beauty. Everything about her relaxes me, despite how I acted last night. Her eyes have an amazing, calming effect that seem to see deep into my soul. Almost like she already knows everything about me, the good and the bad. She has forgiving eyes.

  My phone rings at the exact same time it has since the first day I arrived. “Hey, G,” I answer. I’ve been expecting this call, especially since Tristan called me yesterday to tell me that he may need us to postpone the start of our tour.

  “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, sarcasm strong.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “I’ll cut to the chase,” he says, and I know what’s coming. “Tristan spoke to us yesterday and told us he needs us to consider postponing our tour kick-off.” I inhale deeply, waiting for the biting words to come out of Garrett’s mouth. Fully expecting him to say we can replace Tristan for the first part of the tour and wait for him to catch up to us.

  “I’m aware,” I say and hold my breath.

  “What are your thoughts?” Garrett asks.

  I can’t fault Tristan for taking some time to figure out whatever is going on with him. He needs to do what he needs to do. We’ve been flexible in the past with other members of the band, Garrett included. It would be hypocritical to tell Tristan that he can’t take some time off when others have had that luxury.

  “I don’t see the problem with it. Let Stuart and the tour company figure out the logistics, and we can worry about making up those dates later,” I say.

  “I see,” Garrett says.

  “Anything else?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “You know, I have to agree with you.”

  What?

  “Excuse me?” I ask, fully expecting him to say ‘kidding!’

  “When one of us needs time, any of us, we should be allowed to take it. You all were amazing when I was going through a rough time with Kai. Nobody asked any questions. Not a single one of you judged me or my son. You just let us be. You let us figure out our lives together. I’ll never forget that.” His voice trails off. I don’t know what to think right now, and I can�
�t believe I’m hearing these words from his mouth.

  “Wow, G. I’m glad to hear you’re on the same page. Tristan’s really got me worried, and if you have any idea what’s going on with him, I trust you’re doing the right thing entirely.”

  “I know we are. All he needs is five or six weeks, then he’ll be good to go. So it’s settled,” he says, and I can hear pride in his voice. He’s not angry. He’s not upset. He’s rolling with the punches, and this is a huge step for Garrett.

  “Stuart will take care of everything,” I say.

  “Yes, he will.”

  “See you soon.”

  “Oh, you should stay in Mexico for a few more days now that you have some more time to kill.”

  That’s a great idea, but I’m not sure I should be here with Giselle. Or should I?

  “We’ll see. I’ll see you when I get back. Take care.”

  I disconnect and toss my phone onto the lounge next to me. I’ve taken over the one at the far end of the beach, hoping to remain incognito. This trip so far has been paparazzi-free, and I’m thankful. Even the staff seems indifferent to who I am, and I’m hoping my generous tipping strategy is helping.

  My body is exhausted. My mind is exhausted. Everything is exhausted. I realize I should take full advantage of the mini-reprieve I’ve been given, so I text Stuart.

  Me: Add five days to my trip. Email me the return details.

  He replies almost immediately.

  Stuart: Consider it done. Enjoy the rest of your time away.

  I turn off my phone and flip onto my side. Having my schedule cleared up for me for the better part of the next week relaxes me. I need a nap.

  A SOFT VOICE PULLS me out of my slumber. The warm breeze wafts under the drawn curtains, and I happily realize I’m still on vacation. As I stretch out, I hear a familiar voice.

  “Mia, this whole thing is fucked up, and I don’t know what to do.” Giselle.

  She must be in the next lounge over, and she has no idea I’m hidden away in this one.

  “You know I can’t do that. I was flirting hard last night, and he rejected me completely. I won’t put myself in that position again. Not ever.”

  It’s obvious she’s talking about what happened between us last night, and my heart sinks. She wanted me to kiss her, I could see it in her eyes, her lips. So I did. Fuck. I wanted to kiss her, and as soon as I pulled her lips to mine, I didn’t want it to end. She has no idea what she’s doing to me. My pulse quickens, and I begin to panic. I have to get out of here. I have no right eavesdropping on her conversation. And it’s making me feel like an even bigger asshole. I wanted to tell her last night that I’m no good for her, no good for anyone. I feel terrible that I got her upset.

  I hear her flopping around on the lounge, and I assume she’s trying to get comfortable. I peek out through the privacy curtains, and I see her stretched out, wearing a white cover-up, her legs bare and bronzed. She’s propped several pillows behind her head, so she’s looking out at the water while she talks into the microphone dangling in front of her mouth. Her lips glisten, and I remember what they tasted like last night. Berries.

  She holds the wire steady so the microphone stays put. “I shouldn’t have even tried. We come from completely different worlds, and chasing him around Mexico isn’t the best idea, is it? I’m sorry, Mia, but I’m not like you. No offense.” A smile dances on her lips, and I get comfortable. I can’t stop watching her. I’m a total creep.

  “I’m not listening to this anymore. I’m not going to throw myself at him just because of who he is. We had a connection that day in my car, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he’s a rock star. I know he felt it too. I just…” her voice trails off, and she looks toward the resort. There’s a group of people sitting at the edge of the pool, laughing and drinking. One of them waves, and Giselle raises her hand in acknowledgment. “Shit, they found me,” she says. “My co-workers. I spent all morning with them doing team building and trust exercises, and I’ve honestly had enough at this point. I’m ready to come home.” I can tell she’s contemplating closing the curtains around her, but she realizes it too late. She’s already been seen.

  “I wish you were here with me,” she says to her friend on the phone. “Then I wouldn’t have to hide away by myself. You’d keep me company.” A smile spreads across her face as she stretches her legs in front of her. “I’m going to fry out here.” She pats around for her sunscreen and pops it open, squirting some into the palm of her hand. She smoothes the lotion up her legs, rubbing it in thoroughly. Her toes curl as she works it into her skin. “Shit,” she says, and she lifts her leg up into the air. “I missed a spot shaving. Lovely,” she tells her friend, and I have to turn my face to laugh into the pillow. She’s so fucking hot.

  “It’s none of your business what parts of me are shaved and what aren’t,” she scolds her friend. Yes it is, tell her, dammit.

  “You’re a perv,” she says, and I hold my breath. I can’t get the image of her out of my head, imagining exactly what is and isn’t bare. The throbbing in my bathing suit confirms that fact. I’m rock hard.

  She glances toward her co-workers again as one of them walks toward her with two fruity cocktails in his hands. “Crap, I gotta go. I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye.” She taps her phone and shields her eyes.

  “Hey, Liam,” she says to the dude approaching her.

  “What are you doing over here all by yourself?” he asks and hands her the large drink, umbrellas spilling from the top.

  “I’m exhausted,” she replies. “What is this?” she asks, amused.

  “It’s a surprise. But it has rum in it.” What a tool.

  She places the drink next to her on the ledge. “Thanks, but I don’t drink rum.” Her smile is kind, and I can tell she’s trying not to insult him.

  He sits down, uninvited, and places his hand on her leg. She tenses up and scoots away from him. “Where did you go last night?” he asks. “When I came back from our dinner with Marilyn, you and the others weren’t at the bar anymore. I thought we were going to meet up.” She now has her legs curled underneath her, and she’s trying to remain polite. I can tell this guy bothers her, her body is stiff, and her smile seems fake.

  “I went to bed early,” she lies. She was here with me, and I fucked things up.

  “Don’t disappear on me tonight. Promise?” he says and leans closer to her, his arms on either side of her knees, caging her in. Her eyes widen, and her smile is now gone. She almost looks–scared?

  Fuck it.

  I push the curtain aside and say, “Babe?” What the hell am I doing?

  A different kind of startled look takes over her face, and she and The Tool both turn to me.

  “Now that you’re finished with your conference call, why don’t you come take a nap with me like you promised?” I scoot over on the lounge, patting the empty spot next to me.

  “Who is that?” Tool asks her.

  “I’m her boyfriend,” I say, and he immediately pulls his hands away from Giselle.

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea she even had one,” he says, throwing a subtle insult her way. “My bad.” He stands up and grabs the drink he brought for Giselle and walks away toward her group of co-workers.

  When he’s out of earshot, she turns to me, her eyes blazing.

  “How long have you been there?” she barks.

  “Long enough to know that you missed a spot shaving,” I smile, and her eyes widen. And then I’m clocked in the head with her sunscreen.

  She immediately regrets her action and rushes from her lounge to mine. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” she says, softly touching the knot already forming in the middle of my forehead. I wince under her gentle fingers and lay back on the pillow.

  “I deserved it,” I say.

  “Yes, you did.”

  She gingerly touches the bump and says, “I should get some ice.”

  I grab her wrist as she’s about to stand up. “Don’t go.” She tens
es in my grip, and I quickly let go. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She tentatively sits on the lounge next to me.

  “We need to talk,” I say, and she sighs.

  “You heard everything I said, didn’t you?” she asks, and I nod.

  “Yes, but I didn’t mean to,” I lie. I hung on every single word she told her friend. I felt every stab in my heart as I realized how I made her feel last night.

  “Oh God.” She covers her mouth. “I must seem like a complete loser, fangirl, groupie to you. Chasing you around. Trying to get you to kiss me.” She turns seven shades of pink, and she looks like she’s about to puke. Her hair is blowing wildly as the wind has picked up on the beach, the privacy curtains flapping around.

  “I owe you a sincere apology,” I say, trying to calm her mini freak-out. I want to tell her that I was an asshole last night. That I fucked up.

  “I practically threw myself at you. I’m such an idiot.” Her hands start to shake, and I sit up, our faces so close. The scent of berries surrounds us.

  “Giselle, I was an asshole. I am an asshole.”

  “Yes, you are,” she blurts out. “But, it doesn’t excuse the fact that I put you in an uncomfortable position last night. I guess I misunderstood your intentions.”

  “No, you didn’t misunderstand a single thing,” I admit, and she looks confused.

  “Oh?” She purses her lips, and I fight back the urge to claim them once again.

  “I wasn’t lying when I told you I can’t get you out of my head. For weeks, you’re all I can think about. You’re consuming me, and I’m losing the battle.” My admission makes her blush.

  “Why does it have to be a battle?” she asks, innocently. If she only knew how hard it is for me to trust anyone. To love anyone. I’ve given my heart to only a few people in my life, and every single time it gets destroyed, pieces of it torn out and devoured.

  “It’s a defense mechanism, I guess.”

  “I know all about those,” she admits and bows her head. “Dax, we’ve all been there. Trust me.”