Pieces of Lies

by Angela Richardson

  “Last door on the left,” I said, giving him directions to the bathroom.

  As he gently placed my feet on the tiles of the bathroom floor, I noticed the paint from my arms had rubbed off all over his shirt. “I’m sorry too,” I said and he narrowed his eyes at me, confused. I looked at his shirt and then his cuffs and he followed my eye line until he saw the smudges of green, yellow and blue all over his clothes. The strangeness of the moment caused us both to laugh.

  “Why on earth do you have paint all over you,” he finally asked. I knew it must have been the first thing to spring to his mind the moment I opened the door.

  “I was doing a piece,” I stated bluntly.

  “But your whole body is covered in paint. I don’t understand,” Clint observed, even more confused.

  “I use my entire body as the brush,” I smiled. I knew what he was about to ask next.

  “Without any clothes on at all?” he got out, sounding a little flustered. His eyes were wide and awaiting confirmation.

  “That’s right,” I said proudly.

  He swallowed and looked again at my paint-stained dressing robe, eyeing the fact I was completely naked underneath. Clint met my eyes and walked forward. He reached out and held my head in his hands, tilting it up towards his face, “Who are you?”

  His mouth was so close to mine I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. In that moment, I felt our bodies yearn for one another in a very new and unspoken way. Confused by his mouth being so close to mine, I broke away from him and stepped back, thinking in that second of Josh and the party.

  “You haven’t answered my question yet Clint. What are you doing here?”

  My question snapped him back to a state of reality and purpose and he shook his head. “I’m sorry about last night. Josh should have informed you about the particulars and he shouldn’t have let you walk into that situation unprepared.”

  Was it a genuine apology? I couldn’t tell.

  “It is kind of hard to believe anything you say, knowing you are one of the leaders of that sex club Clint.”

  “Secret society Norah.”

  “Same difference.”

  Clint watched my face as I showed clear distaste for his club’s activities but he didn’t fight me on my wording. It was a shame because I had a few more choice words I wanted to belt out about the nature of last night’s events, but since Clint had not come to the Lappell’s defense I decided to let it be. He already knew I was not impressed, and frankly, he couldn’t turn my opinion around even if he tried to argue.

  One more thing about the evening wasn’t very clear in my mind, so I took the opportunity to ask, “You told me to leave last night knowing they would fail their test. Why?”

  Clint looked away, his eyes surveying my bathroom, a pained look on his face, as if conflicted by his own thoughts, and then he finally got out, “Yes, I know I did.” He shook his head, rubbing his hand along his forehead, then started for the front door, but stopped and turned back to me. “Look I’m sorry about the glass Norah. I really hope you don’t say anything about the activities of the Lappell. It was nice to see you again,” and in the span of a few seconds, he practically ran for the front door and closed it behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom, dumbfounded and speechless.

  Chapter 3

  First Date

  I avoided Josh for nearly three days before he finally caught up with me in the courtyard outside the main arts building at McLaren. I was walking with Tess Nichols, the only other friend I had here since I transferred. I was pretty selective when it came to friends, having so many in the past prove to be less than trustworthy, but I had a good feeling about Tess. She was in most of the same classes as me and we hit it off right away after a rather heated group art discussion about Dali and if it was really just his controversial life or his works of art that made him the famous artist he was. In the end, we agreed to disagree, but after class that particular day, we both went to the university bar called Dudley’s, and after a few beers and some additional slurred debate, we realized that we both thought Dali was overrated, hugged it out, and we’ve been catching up after class ever since.

  Tess was loud, opinionated and sarcastic, which was hard to imagine given her tiny stature and sweet child-like facial features. Her hair was crimson red which was choppy and short and she had dark brown eyes, like myself, and wore very trendy black rimmed Dior glasses. She had an eclectic taste in clothing too. Where my taste was more sleek and modern with a hint of glamor, Tess liked to wear vibrant prints, colors and textures, mixing up different styles and making it all come together to look effortlessly cool and chic.

  “Hey Norah, hey Tess,” Josh said walking up to us. Tess gave Josh a brief smile. They had met a few times before but still struggled to make small talk. Knowing how extroverted Tess was normally, it always surprised me that she clamped up around him. I figured that she either wasn’t fond of him or had a crush on him, but she didn’t lead me to believe either, and I wasn’t about to force a friendship for the sake of pleasantries. She was her own person and whether or not she wanted to bond with Josh was up to her. Our friendship was fairly new after all.

  As we all stood, shifting on our feet back and forth, an awkward silence began to fill the air between us. Tess looked to me, then to Josh and then back to me, raising her eyebrows my way, taking note of the odd tension that was conspicuously evident. I had been dreading this moment with Josh since ‘that’ night and wasn’t sure what I’d say when I finally saw him again.

  “Hey,” I chimed back to Josh, finally breaking the silence. He looked once at Tess and then to me before he decided that her presence wasn’t enough of a deterrent to dive right in.

  “Look, about the party Nor, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Josh was clearly testing the water with me. I coughed, looking away but then I thought it was best just to get what I was thinking off my chest.

  “I do,” I said, “you were thinking about yourself. I get it, I really do Josh. You were being selfish and desperate.”

  He looked like someone had winded him but he kept going, not running away from the harshness of my words. “Are we going to be OK?” he asked, trying to sound hopeful.

  I sucked in a big gulp of air and sighed, “It’s not like we haven’t had fights before Josh. We’re best friends and human, and it’s in our nature to make mistakes. Some mistakes are more fucked than others, but I’ll get over this, I’m sure.” He groaned but seemed more relaxed that we were talking again.

  “Do you want to, maybe, hang out this weekend?”

  My eyes darted, “Um, I think I’m busy this weekend, but maybe next week. OK?” I needed more time to deal with the anger and hurt that still coursed inside me. I knew if I was around Josh, he would quickly pick up on just how much I had been affected by what I saw at the party. I didn’t want to drop my guard about those emotions. Josh wasn’t my boyfriend, this I knew, but considering the signals he had been sending me, especially with our ‘almost kiss’ before the party, I felt, in one word, betrayed. I couldn’t help feeling that way, but I did, and I couldn’t push that bit of pain away and out of my mind if Josh was around right now. Our chance of a romantic relationship was so close, we literally almost tasted it, and then it was gone, shoved into the far corners of my heart, until one day I might visit it again.

  My focus now was to get back to the place where there was a clear line between friendship and more, with me standing firmly behind that friendship line. It was the only way I could go back to being normal around him. I had opened my heart a little for Josh, only to be completely run down by his deception and the vision of him nailing that blond on the desk. I was not ready to open it back up to him, if ever.

  Josh decided not to push the matter anymore, and grinned at me, hoping for a smile in return. “That sounds good Norah. I’ll talk to you next week then.”

  The corners of my mouth turned up slightly as a gesture of reassurance. Josh’s eyes still look
ed woeful, but he nodded and took off in the opposite direction. He knew me well enough to let things cool off a while more. Tess looked at me, completely confused, leaning in to ask, “What was that all about?”

  I sighed, “Oh you know guys, they’re always being dicks.”

  Tess laughed loudly, “True that.”

  We were both in the next class together, which was at least another hour away, so we decided to head to the quad tables and kill some time sketching and making notes. We found a spot at one of the tables and laid out our notebooks. The quad was the heart of the campus where most students congregated at the tables or under the trees, to hang out in between classes. It was always a mix of students studying and eating, couples bickering or making out, and random groups playing football or frisbee.

  Looking at university life unfold around me, my eye was caught by a glimmer of dark blond hair surrounded by co-eds on the far lawn. I could see the back of Clint a few tables over from where Tess and I sat. He was chatting with a group of girls, who all had on their best smiles, twisting their hair and bobbing their heads from side to side. Even from that distance you could tell they were all flirting with one another, and that the girls were clearly enjoying Mr. Weston’s attention.

  As I watched him, I admitted to myself that I was curious about Clint. Both at the party and at my apartment, he had shown me different dimensions to his personality that seemed unexpected for a guy who walked around as if everyone was supposed to bow down to him. If anything, given his behavior towards me, he seemed a little lost. There was something about him that didn’t fit the perception and I liked that I had seen a glimmer of that.

  I tapped Tess’s notebook with my pencil, her head flicking up. “Tess, I haven’t been here all that long, and I’ve heard the gossip, but what can you tell me about that guy?”

  Tess’s eyes looked in the direction I was motioning to with my pencil. “Oh him. Yeah, that’s Clint Weston. He’s hard to miss hey. Drop dead gorgeous, but he runs with the rich, and supposedly he’s a member of the Lappell Secret Society. I don’t think anyone has ever seen him with a girlfriend. Not that you would want one with the kind of attention he gets.” I gave Tess a knowing smile. Clint turned and saw us, his head bobbing a little to the side as he looked carefully in our direction.

  “Oh, and by the looks of it now, he’s scoping out some fresh meat.” She nudged me with her hand and I brushed it away as if she was being ridiculous. We giggled, but then we both watched as Clint shifted his gaze to our table, watching us intently. Then he began walking towards us.

  “Shit, he’s coming in for the kill. Oh please, please don’t fall for any lame lines, OK Norah.”

  I was a little excited, watching Clint walk our way, but I didn’t show it. Tess was not aware I was already acquainted with Clint, her face turning into a scowl as soon as he stopped at our table.

  “Hello Norah,” he said softly, his sky blue eyes melting right into me. He then shifted his eyes to Tess, who seemed a little thrown that he greeted me by name. Her mouth dropped open in shocked amusement.

  “That’s Tess,” I gestured. She smiled nervously.

  “Hello Tess,” he said politely back. She lifted her palm silently to say hello and then smirked as she watched on.

  “So, I was thinking Norah, that perhaps we could do lunch and maybe a gallery tomorrow, if you are interested?” He was incredibly confident in the way he asked so casually. He was probably used to women throwing themselves at him, so made no attempt at small talk before the invitation.

  “Well, actually, I have other plans tomorrow at lunch, but you can tag along with me if you like.” I wasn’t about to fall at his feet, that wasn’t my style.

  Clint tried not to laugh. “Sure, I’ll ‘tag’ along with you. Should I meet you at your apartment then?” he asked, looking now at his watch. I think he was in a hurry, but perhaps he was trying to play it cool. He certainly didn’t seem like the type of guy to come across too eager.

  “Come over about midday, if you want,” I said, with slight interest.

  Clint smirked again. I could tell he wanted to comment more, but restrained himself, probably because he didn’t want an audience. “That sounds good. I’ll see you then Norah. Nice to meet you Tess.” Clint gave me another stare, holding my gaze for a moment more, before taking off and walking in the direction of the library.

  “Well, well, well Norah. Aren’t you the dark horse? You should be a bit careful though, I mean, he sure is nice to look at, and I wouldn’t kick him out of bed, but his reputation is pretty well known, if you catch my drift.” Tess’s warning was loud and clear. “Although it will drive Josh crazy, if that’s what you are trying to do.”

  Yes, it would clearly send a message to Josh. I shot Tess a confused look. “I don’t have any idea what you mean Tess.” I tried to hide my sly smile as I turned back to sketch in my pad.

  The following day, I pulled on a pair of black and gold Balmain pants, a beige knit sweater and my black pointy boots. I let my black hair fall naturally down my back and kept my makeup minimal. When I answered the door to Clint just before midday, he looked relaxed in jeans and a fitted t-shirt. “You look great,” he complimented as he walked in.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, as I hunted around for my bag.

  “So where are we going, oh mysterious one?” I could tell he was very intrigued and wasn’t used to this kind of behavior, especially from a girl.

  “A place I go to relax, c’mon, I’m driving.”

  He followed me as I grabbed my chained Stella McCartney leather bag from the sofa, my car keys off the kitchen counter top and headed out the door to the elevator. I pushed the ‘B’ for the basement after we both stepped in.

  “That apartment is quite a piece of property. Is it yours?” Clint asked as we waited in the elevator, our hands grazing one another as we stood and talked. My body tingled at the magnetic sensation.

  “It’s in my name, so I suppose it is.”

  Hmmm. He is beginning to pry. This could be dangerous.

  “And, are you here at McLaren on scholarship, Norah?”

  Why is he so curious?

  “Ummm, no, my education is paid for.”

  He looked deep in thought, probably confused by my answers as they were a little off centre, but they were true nonetheless.

  “Are your parents rich Norah?” he blurted out, and I rolled my eyes.

  I hated this part. I laughed uncomfortably. “Not like your parents are Clint.”

  He studied me, “But your family has money right?”

  What’s with all the personal questions?

  “Don’t you have friends with their own apartment and without student loans?” I responded with questions, hoping it would deter his thought process.

  “Of course I do, I just didn’t know you were in the same circles as me.” He looked at me in wonder, like he was trying to figure me out, but I stayed as cool as a cucumber.

  “Clint, we are not in the same circles, believe me,” and with that the elevator doors opened. I quickly rushed out, thankful to leave the conversation where it started.

  I walked through the basement over to my BMW and then I clenched my teeth, realizing there would be even more questions now.

  “This is the new model, BMW M5,” he said excitedly.

  Yep, I knew it. Taking my car was a bad idea.

  “I’ve got a Mercedes C63, the brand new model,” Clint stated, trying to impress me.

  “That’s really fantastic Clint.” I was making fun of him but his smile was gone. I laughed as we both climbed into the car and nudged him from the driver’s seat, reassuring him I was just mucking around. He didn’t look happy at all. In fact, I think he was sulking that I had belittled the love he obviously had for cars.

  The air between us grew eerily silent as he watched me. I waited a moment before starting the engine, because he looked like he was deep in thought about what he was about to say.

  “You know Norah, you have quit
e an apartment and quite a car for being just an artist.” There was a dark edge in the way he made his statement.

  FUCK!!!

  I felt a bead of sweat form on my brow as he waited for me to bite on that comment. He was looking for a reaction which would give something away, but I knew better than that. He wasn’t the first person to question the peculiarities of my lifestyle, and I had to give it him for picking up on them already. He was clearly paying close attention.

  As he waited for me to respond, my heart rate moved at lightning speed, my head screamed to run away from Clint and his incessant need to poke into my private life, which was, as I knew, extremely dangerous to do.

  Breathe Norah, breathe.

  I turned, shrugged, gave him the sweetest smile I could, and simply just said, “Yes Clint, I suppose I do, don’t I?” and I started the car and drove out of the basement, having just won my hand in our game of poker face.

  After driving for about twenty minutes, we pulled into a parking lot just on the outskirts of town. Clint stared out the car window, completely confused.

  “A gun range. You brought me to a gun range?” He was looking at the sign over the top of the large industrial cement building which read ‘Seth’s Gun Range & Café’.

  “I find it very relaxing.” I was already feeling more at ease just being in the car park. He was looking at me like I was some kind of alien.

  “You like guns?” he asked, the shock evident in his voice.

  “Clint, I’m a firm believer that having knowledge and respect for guns is an important part of everyday life. Everyone should know how to handle one, how to fire one, for their own protection. I think people are too ignorant about the fact that gun-related death is such a high killer in this country.” Clint was thinking, still looking a little unsure. “Plus,” I said, “it’s really fun and you can blow off a lot of steam in the process.”