Lies My Girlfriend Told Me (ARC)

by Julie Anne Peters

“Just a friend. Your prints should be ready. I’ll stop by after school and pick them up. Okay?”

  “Swan’s ashes aren’t even cold,” Joss says stonily.

  She must’ve cued in on the tone of my voice when I said “a friend.” Or maybe the whole conversation gave us away.

  “I brought these, in case they might help.” I fish through my pack for the brochures Mom gave me.

  Joss skims the titles and says, “Do they say, ‘Replace a dead person with someone new as soon as possible’?”

  She has this knack for making me feel guilty and diminished. The way Swanee did.

  Joss throws the brochures practically in my face and stalks off.

  When I drive up to my house, Joss is sitting on the porch stoop. To apologize? Hard to imagine, but anything’s possible.

  She follows the Prius into the garage. I’m not even out of the car before she says, “Did you get them?”

  The pictures. “Yeah.”

  She holds out her hand. I shut the door and pass her the package. It’s a thick envelope and Joss asks, “Do you want to look through them with me?”

  If I say no, will that sound cold? If I say yes… I close my eyes and this unexpected veil of sorrow drops over me. Will I ever get over her?

  Joss isn’t even wearing a coat, and she has on that skimpy skirt with no leggings. “Let’s go inside,” I tell her. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

  She just stands there with a blank expression on her face.

  I’m not going to wait for an answer because I’m freezing.

  Fortunately, she follows me in.

  Dad’s in his office working. He’s set up Ethan’s swing near his desk and the rocking has lulled Ethan to sleep. Dad steps out of the room and stretches. “How was school?”

  “Torture, as usual,” I answer for both Joss and me.

  “Good. Our tax dollars at work.”

  Joss actually cracks a smile.

  “Don’t encourage him.”

  He pours a fresh cup of coffee while I nuke two cups of cocoa with marshmallows.

  “How are you, Joss?” Dad asks her, casting her that pity-party look.

  I think, Please don’t go off on him. Please please please.

  Joss mumbles something incoherent. Thank God.

  I motion to her with my chin to the living room and Dad returns to his office, closing the door. Remoting on the fireplace, I kick off my shoes and curl my legs under me to get comfy.

  Joss holds the package of photos in front of her like it’s the Holy Grail. All I want is to get through them and then go back to my happy place. She removes the first picture and stares at it for a year. Finally she passes it to me. Swan and Joss, in a close-up head shot, cheek to cheek. Memories come crashing down a mountain and I feel smothered by rubble. I have to set down my hot chocolate because my hands start to shake.

  Joss is still examining the second picture. If we have to go through each one this slowly, we’ll be here all night.

  “Could we speed it up, Joss? You can spend more time with them at home.”

  She twists her head to face me. “I thought you’d like to take your time.”

  “I do, but… I have them on my computer. Remember?”

  Joss blinks. That seems to appease her. What she doesn’t know is that I deleted the pics as soon as I uploaded them to the flash drive. To fill the time between pictures, I ask, “What do you have against Hispanics?”

  She looks at me. “Nothing. Who told you I did?”

  I almost tell her it was Liana but stop myself in time. Swanee lied to Liana about that, too, creating this toxic relationship between Joss and Liana. Why? What purpose did that serve?

  Joss pulls out the next picture and gasps.

  “What is it?” I lean over and Joss wrenches the picture away. It flies out of her hand and lands faceup on the floor. Before she can grab it, I catch a glimpse. It’s the one where Joss exposed herself.

  Joss shoves the photo into the envelope and goes to the next one.

  “I’m not sure how that got on my cell, but I’ll delete it for sure.”

  Joss swallows hard. “Swan told me the band dude would definitely notice me if I sexted him. I wrote that guy that it was for his eyes only, and Swan told me to add, ‘Come and get it.’ Then he sent it to everyone, and the cops showed up at our house.”

  Oh my God. “I’m so sorry, Joss. Some of the stuff Swanee did really hurt and humiliated people. Including you.”

  Joss snaps, “She didn’t mean to.”

  Really? I go to snake an arm around Joss’s shoulders but get a definite vibe to stay back. I add, “She didn’t think through a lot of her pranks, and what the negative effects on people might be.”

  Joss sits for a long minute, her shoulders slumped. I sense a crack in her veneer and say, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She shrugs. “They were jokes. She liked to fuck with people’s heads. It was hilarious.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  Joss goes to make a wisecrack and then stops herself.

  “Do you want to talk about her death?”

  Her head swivels and her eyes go cold. “No. She’s gone. Sayonara.”

  “Joss—”

  She takes all the pictures back from me and slides them into the envelope. Pushing to her feet, she walks out without another word, shutting the door behind her.

  I’m mad all over again. Furious. Seething. “Way to go, Swanee.”

  During my Skype call with Liana I recount everything that happened today, adding, “And Joss doesn’t hold any prejudice against Hispanics. I don’t know why Swan told you that.”

  Liana says, “I take back every mean thing I ever said about Joss. Except she had no right to text me after Swan’s death. That was a cruel prank.”

  “Yeah, about that…”

  Mom raps softly on the door and opens it a crack. She’s holding Ethan. Instinctively, I twist the monitor away so Mom can’t see who I’m talking to.

  She says, “I need to run to the hospital and your dad’s at a meeting. Can you watch Ethan?” He’s examining a plastic rattle like it’s some mystery of the universe.

  “Sure,” I say.

  She hands him over. Saved by the bro.

  “Hola, chiquito,” Liana goes. She wiggles her fingers at him.

  Mom leans down. “Hi, Liana. How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you, Dr. Van Pelt. And you?”

  “Stork days are almost always good ones.” Mom smiles.

  That would’ve sounded insane if I hadn’t told Liana my mom was an obstetrician.

  Ethan plants his gooey hand on my monitor, smearing Liana’s features.

  “Your dad should be home in an hour or so,” Mom says to me.

  “No hurry.”

  She leaves and I balance Ethan between my legs in front of my laptop. Liana says, “I’ve been thinking about where we should go after the meet next Saturday. Besides Motel 6.”

  “Damn,” I say. “And I already made a reservation.”

  She grins. “I’d really like to go to Rainbow Alley. If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “That’d be cool. They might have a drag show, or karaoke. I’ll check the schedule.”

  She says, “Please don’t make me do karaoke. I’m so bad.”

  “You mean I finally found your weakness?”

  She laughs. “I have a gazillion weaknesses. I just don’t want you to see them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I want you to think I’m perfect in every way. Ha!”

  “Now my life’s goal is to find out everything you suck at.”

  “It’s a long list,” she says.

  I doubt that.

  Ethan flails his rattle and bops me in the face. It makes Liana giggle, and then we’re both giggling. It’s like Mom said; she makes me feel like I could adapt—in a good way. Become more giving, complete, with someone willing to grow with me, and vice versa.

  I don’t see Joss the rest of
the week. I figure she’s ditching, still going through the pictures. Fixating on them, like they’re the only memories of her sister. I wish I could find a way to make Joss open up to me. Or to someone. I know you can’t help a person who doesn’t want help, but at what point do you give up trying? If it were me, I’d hope at least someone cared enough to never give up.

  Friday, on my way home, I drop a sealed letter in the Durbins’ mailbox addressed to Joss. Hopefully, Jewell won’t open it. All I wrote is, I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk. XO Alix

  Liana and I have been calling and Skyping every day, and when Saturday finally arrives I feel as hyper as a kid at Christmas. I ask Dad at breakfast if he’ll drop me off at Jeffco Stadium.

  “What’s going on at the stadium?” Dad asks.

  “A track invitational.”

  He’s almost finished cleaning up from Ethan’s breakfast. “Mind if we go along? Your mom’s working, and it’d be nice to get out of the house.”

  “Um, sure.” That wasn’t exactly the plan. But he wouldn’t intrude on Liana’s and my plans. Would he?

  He adds, “If it’s an all-day meet, I’m not sure either one of us would last. A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, though.”

  He read my mind.

  When we arrive at the stadium, Dad heads straight for the Arvada section, but I stop. I search the parking lot and don’t see Liana’s car. “Are you coming?” Dad says, stepping up the bleachers. Across the track, the Spartan cheerleaders are carting their cooler, and Liana emerges from the pack. My stomach jumps. She shields her eyes, gazing across the track and up into bleachers. Looking for me, I know. As if a magnetic force pulls us together, our eyes meet. She sprints toward us and I call up to Dad, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  We haven’t seen each other in person for weeks. Liana’s not even guarded about hugging me, lifting me off my feet, and twirling me around. She’s strong. I know we both want to kiss, and it’s maddening that we feel the social pressure of not being able to.

  “I was wondering if you were just a dream.” She holds me at arm’s length.

  “All real.”

  She holds me tight again and the world fades away. Then the announcer breaks through our bliss and Liana takes my hands. “Is there somewhere I can change after the meet? I don’t want to wear my cheerleading outfit to dinner and Rainbow Alley.”

  “But there’s a drag show. You’ll fit right in.”

  She shoves my shoulder playfully.

  “You can change at my house,” I tell her.

  “Good. Are you going to sit with Arvada or GW?”

  I glance up into the stands. “My dad’s here, so I guess I have to sit with Arvada.”

  “Where is he?” She follows my gaze up the stands, and then waves.

  Dad waves back.

  “Catch you after the meet.” Liana squeezes my hand, sending a shock wave through my body.

  I clomp up the bleachers and plop next to Dad.

  “Where does Liana go to school?” he asks.

  “Greeley West.”

  “Holy moly. That’s a drive.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He says, “Do you want to sit over there?”

  “Could we?”

  He smiles. Then he gets up and heads down the bleachers with Ethan in tow, and we circle the track. Liana greets us with a beaming smile and my knees go weak.

  The meet starts with the boys’ events. The 100 and 300 meters. My concentration is solely on Liana. She’s gotten more beautiful, more talented. I’ve missed her like crazy.

  Dad turns to me and says, “Do you ever think about her?”

  I am thinking about her.

  “Okay, that’s a dumb question. Of course you do. But I wonder if Liana isn’t a rebound. Have you considered that?”

  What is he…? Oh, Swanee. I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t cross my mind. But what Liana and I have is real. It has nothing to do with Swanee, and everything to do with us. Liana and I never talked about a rebound relationship—only one based on revenge. Are they the same? I don’t think so.

  I could only commit to one person, unlike Swanee, who seemingly was able to switch her love on and off like a faucet.

  When I don’t answer, Dad says, “Never mind. It’s your life. You have to learn these things on your own. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She’s not a rebound. She may have been there when I needed her most, but that doesn’t make her a rebound. Does it?

  Arvada wins the high jump and across the track our pep squad goes wild. My eyes stray to Betheny, doing split jumps and rustling her poms. She’s an awesome cheerleader, too. I wonder if I ever told her that. Now, of course, I’ll never get the chance.

  Dad rubs his back and says, “I think that’s about it for us.” Ethan’s getting fussy for a bottle. “Are you going to call me when you’re ready to go?”

  “Liana and I are going to dinner, and then Rainbow Alley. She’s driving.”

  “How late will you be, do you think?”

  “Not very. Rainbow Alley closes at nine.”

  He squeezes my shoulder on the way down. As he’s retracing his steps around the track, I see Betheny jog over to say hi to him. She swoons over Ethan. It’s been months since she’s seen him, so he must look gigantic.

  I should’ve followed Dad, since I need to use the restroom and it’s by the concession stands on the other side. I want to tell Liana I’ll be back, but she’s conferring with the squad. People are gathered around the bleachers near the concessions, eating and smoking. Joss is there.

  “Hey, Joss,” I call to her.

  She looks gaunt and pale. Grounding her cigarette in the dirt, she starts toward me.

  “I need to…” I point to the restroom. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  When I come out, she’s gone. Then I see her over by the track. “Hi.” I come up beside her. “How are you?”

  “Fuckin’ awesome.”

  “Did you get my letter?”

  “I got it.”

  Silence. Then, out of nowhere, she says, “I was here when she died.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Here. At the track. She wanted me to time her, like I always did.”

  My jaw unhinges. “You were here?”

  She blinks at me. “Do you have a problem with earwax? She liked running on this track, since it’d give her an advantage at the state meet.” Joss returns her gaze to the field. “We climbed the fence. It was still dark, so the cops wouldn’t see her on the track. No one would. I’m the one who called 911.”

  Wait a minute. “The story I got was that she was gone before anyone found her.”

  Joss continues, “It was cold that day. I brought a thermos of coffee for me and a bottle of water for Swan. She did her stretching, then started running. She was in the zone. You know how she gets.”

  Got, I think. “Then what?”

  Joss stares into the middle distance. “I set the coffee down to find her stopwatch, and when I looked up, she was already on the opposite side of the track. On the ground. At first I thought she was just resting, so I yelled at her, ‘You’re losing time by sleeping, slacker.’ ” Joss’s voice goes hollow. “She didn’t move. So I called louder. I got up and walked across the field, thinking she was just faking it, and when I got there, she wasn’t breathing. I knew she had her cell because she always carried it, so I called 911, and they told me how to give her CPR.” She adds, “Pronounced dead on arrival.”

  Oh my God. “Joss,” I say. “I’m sure there’s nothing you could’ve done. According to Mom, most people who have sudden cardiac arrests die instantly. Their heart just stops. CPR wouldn’t have brought her back.” Didn’t Mom say that? I think Joss needs to be released from the guilt. I touch her shoulder and say, “You can’t blame yourself.”

  She stares at my hand, and then up at me. “I don’t.” From her pocket she removes half a joint and lights up. She inhales deeply, closing her eyes. If Joss
was here… if she witnessed everything… that makes it ten times worse.

  “Could you loan me a couple of dollars for a hot dog?” she says, “I’m starving.”

  All I have is a twenty, which I was going to use to split dinner with Liana. I hand the bill to Joss and tell her, “Keep the change.” I’ll charge dinner.

  She stuffs it in her back pocket and heads off. The concessions are swarmed. It must be lunchtime.

  Suddenly, my eyes are covered from behind. “Three guesses,” Liana says softly in my ear. “And the first four don’t count.”

  I smile and pivot. She takes both my hands again and I lean into her. Our attention is diverted by someone beside us, and the smell of mustard.

  It’s Joss, back already.

  “You remember Joss,” I say to Liana.

  “I do,” she says. “Alix explained everything to me, but I have a question. Why did you text me on Swan’s cell for two weeks after she was dead?”

  Joss curls a lip. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  I should confess. I need to. But not in front of Joss.

  Joss slit-eyes both of us. Her eyes travel to our linked hands and back. “I hate you,” she snarls. “I hate both of you.”

  Chapter 22

  When the meet is finished and the parking lot begins to clear, Liana’s at her car, waiting for me. I trot over and we embrace, and then she kisses me so passionately, I feel I’m sinking into quicksand.

  A couple of guys whistle at us, reminding me that the whole world isn’t ready to accept love for love’s sake. “Do you remember how to get to my house?” I ask Liana as we climb into her car.

  “You’re permanently plugged into my GPS,” she says.

  That gives me a thrill.

  I tell her about Joss being at the stadium the day Swan died. Giving her CPR. Hearing the EMT pronounce Swan DOA.

  A look of shock, and then one of dismay, crosses Liana’s eyes. “No one should have to go through that, especially your own sister.” She reaches over, takes my hand, and pulls it into her lap.

  Every time she touches me, it’s like a beehive of activity all over my body.

  Liana says, “I’ll light a votive candle for Joss to get through this.”

  Which is sweet, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough.