I texted Keane back first because his was the easiest of the three texts to reply to.
Can’t. Want to come over to Gram’s Sunday night? I’ve got Casey, flying solo for who knows how long.
His reply came almost immediately.
Keane: Sorry man. I forgot. 8 work?
I sent him a quick yes and then moved to Sarah’s text. She was easier than my brother, but harder than Keane. Keane knew my grandmother, understood her importance to me. Sarah—who happened to be my ex—didn’t. She would want to call and chat about things and get me to regurgitate some of my feelings but that was precisely why she moved from being my girlfriend into being just a friend. I loved her as a friend, but I wasn’t going to unfurl everything for her to pick and prod through.
Sorry, long day. Car broke down. At sister’s dentist appointment now. What are you up to?
It was easier to switch the topic to her. And her next text reminded me why, when we’d mutually agreed to end our relationship, I’d kept her as a friend.
Sarah: Icing Bobby’s balls. Your lead singer’s gonna sound like he’s going through puberty for a while.
I laughed once, felt eyes turn in my direction and typed out a reply.
Literally or figuratively icing his balls?
In response, I got a series of photos. The first was a selfie of her holding a neon green resistance band with handles on each end and Bobby’s pained face in the background. The next was actually a GIF of someone getting hit in the balls. The third photo was of her hand covering an ice pack that was against what I recognized as Bobby’s paint-splattered jeans.
You’re nicer than me. Have fun, you two.
I knew Sarah might scowl a little at my reply, which was both a goodbye and a “I’m not going to be the third wheel to your relationship.” It didn’t bother me that she’d moved on from me to Bobby—not in the least. But a photo of her hand on his crotch was a little more than I needed to see.
I addressed my brother’s text last. Typed out a reply, deleted it and started over again. Before I could finish composing it, a rush of heat brushed my legs as Hollis came in through the front door and sat beside me. “I had them tow it to Maurice’s. Have you been there? Maurice is a good guy.”
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I nodded. And then, remembering that we were on favor two—or was it three?—I added a quick, “Thanks.” I wished I had asked Keane to pick Casey and me up, but I knew he was at work anyway. I’d have to ask another favor of Hollis.
“Mind bringing me to the garage after this? You can just drop me off, I’ll get a ride home.”
Hollis hesitated and worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You know,” I waved a hand as if I was breaking up my words, “it’s fine. I can get an Uber.”
“No, no, no,” she hurriedly said. “My pause wasn’t because I can’t, but because I was going to offer to wait with you. In case your car can’t be easily fixed, so I can give you a ride home. I am not in a hurry to go anywhere anyway.”
It was increasingly difficult to reconcile this Hollis with the one I had always remembered her as. She was quiet, polite, thoughtful. I stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time again, enough to see her fidget and tug her earlobe, worry the clasp at the back of her earring before I sucked it up and said, “That’d be great. Thanks.” This time, my thanks wasn’t rushed, under my breath. She gave me a brief but friendly smile and checked her watch.
“You hungry?” she asked.
As if on cue, my stomach grumbled silently. “I could be.”
“I was just thinking…” she twisted her hands again in her lap. “I haven’t gotten lunch yet. We could swing through the drive-through on our way. It’ll take an hour for your car to get to the shop anyway.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “But I’m paying.”
When she opened her mouth, I quickly shut her down.
“Look, Hollis.” Her named sounded funny on my tongue. “You’ve been really great. It’s the least I can do.” And it was my pride speaking, definitely, but I couldn’t stomach Hollis giving me a ride, a free tow, and lunch.
9
Hollis
The waiting room was filled with people with various expressions of defeat written on their faces. Adam was not unlike them, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. Though, that worry could have been due to the sludge-like coffee in his styrofoam cup. It was very likely eight hours old at this point, but it was all the waiting room offered in the way of beverages.
I was grateful that I disliked the taste, therefore never becoming dependent on its caffeination. Instead, I held a soda from the restaurant that was growing more and more watery as the ice cubes inside of it melted.
The clock on the wall clicked, drawing my attention.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” Casey asked, breaking me from staring at the second hand’s movements.
“No.” I gave her a reassuring smile. She was adorable, blond hair with hints of strawberry and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen. But more than her hair and her eyes was the smile she gave me, like she was genuinely interested in what I had to say, what I had to think. With no younger siblings of my own, I didn’t really know what it was like having someone look up to you the way Casey clearly looked up to Adam, but it endeared him to me. I glanced at him, where he was sitting in the same position, but rolling the contents of his coffee around his cup like he’d be able to read his tea leaves through the sludge. “What grade are you in?”
“Seventh,” she said.
“Boys are still gross in seventh grade, aren’t they?”
Her cheeks immediately pinked and she glanced sideways at Adam, who was still lost in thought. She shrugged but wouldn’t meet my eyes. I tried to recall my own experience in middle school but couldn’t remember having crushes on anyone.
“Are you in any sports?”
“Soccer,” she said, leaning forward on the chair, her hands under her thighs as she rocked back and forth. “Maybe I’ll do gymnastics too. I don’t know. Depends.”
“On what?”
Shyness crept over her face and she scrunched her face, running a hand over her hair. I recognized the movement, woman-to-woman, as being self-conscious of something. “If I get my grades up this year.” Her voice trailed off and she chewed on her bottom lip a moment, in thought. “If I do, I’ll get to go to gymnastics.”
“What grades?”
Casey made a face. “Math. I suck.”
That seemed to pull Adam from his thoughts, his head snapping up as he looked over at us. “You don’t suck. Don’t say that.”
Casey flushed, but not like she was afraid of her brother. Which made one of us. “Well, it’s a new process, I guess?” She twirled her hair thoughtfully. “So they need us to show how we got the answer. But I do it in my head.”
I nodded, understanding. “I remember, middle school math was rough. I can help you if you want. Wouldn’t want to miss out on gymnastics.”
“I got it, Hollis,” Adam said and my cheeks flooded with color. He’d effectively put me in my place. “And if we can’t get the grades up, we’ll figure it out. I’ll pay for it.”
Casey looked chastened.
“What?” he asked.
“I mean. I’m not sure if I can do it when Gram’s sick and all, in the hospital. And your job…”
“Jesus, Case. Cool it on the job. I’ll figure it out.” He said the last sentence while looking at me. I was intruding on a very personal conversation; one I shouldn’t have been privy to. But there was no way to leave without making it more awkward. His eyes bore into mine, making me feel a tingle in my belly. He should be intimidating. He should scare the hell out of me. He looked so different from how I had known him in high school. His hair was longer, his arms were covered in ink—all the way down to his knuckles. A tattoo crept up his neck. But those eyes, those deep, soulful eyes that had haunted me since that night at the party were still the same. Instead of friendliness, I saw frustration.
“Yeah, but how are you gonna pay for the repairs with no job?”
When Adam flushed, I finally saw the resemblance in the siblings.
“I can help,” I said, eager to alleviate the tension and the embarrassment for all of us. When Adam opened his mouth, surely to argue, I continued. “I mean, I can spot you the money. And you can pay me back.” Judging by the look in his eyes, it seemed important, to him, that he’d pay me back. And that’s why I decided to lie. “It’s just my dad’s credit card anyway. It’s not a big deal.”
It was a tricky line to walk—I knew—saying that money wasn’t a big deal to me when it obviously, understandably, was to Adam. But if he knew the money I’d use for the repairs was from my own bank account, which was padded by my income as a tutor, he’d probably never accept it.
“That’s so nice of you. Isn’t it, Adam?” Casey crooned, her head cocked to the side. “Easy peasy, you can just pay her back.”
“Yeah,” I said, as sweat slid down my spine. The waiting room was not air conditioned, but the heat had everything to do with the fact that I had lied and Adam was looking at me like I was something to dissect. “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Won’t your dad ask?”
I swallowed the truth and opened my mouth for the lie to spill out. “No, he won’t. He gives me an allowance.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. He did provide an allowance, but not enough to cover car repairs. And the allowance he did provide had strings attached, of course.
Adam still held me captive in his stare, his eyes dark and deep and his lips in a flat line. Finally, he looked away and both Casey and I relaxed, emitting identical sighs of relief. “Fine. I’ll pay you back though. As soon as I can.”
“No rush,” I said, waving him off.
Adam’s phone rang then and he stood, walking outside to take the call. A wall of heat followed him in from outside and I fanned myself with one hand as I pulled at my collar with the other. What I wouldn’t give to be waiting in my own air-conditioned car.
“He’s really not as big an asshole as he acts,” Casey said. “But don’t tell him I said a bad word.”
I held my pinky finger up. “Swear,” I said. She grinned and hooked her finger around mine. Age-wise, Casey and I were about as far apart as Angie and me. I had only been in Casey’s company for not even an hour and already I could feel an attachment to her. Maybe it was because she was a little sister. Maybe I could see some of myself in her, that sort of unrestrained child that I had left behind so many years ago. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember my sisters doting on me.
“Your car is super nice,” Casey said, slumping back in her chair and tapping her feet absently on the ground. She was always moving some part of her body. It reminded me of Navy a bit. But Navy had never outgrown her childlike behavior.
“Thanks,” I said, acutely aware of the fact that my car was nice and Adam’s was in the shop. I was almost embarrassed, felt an immediate need to apologize for it. “It’s my dad’s,” I said, but knew it didn’t really suffice.
“You’re lucky your dad cares.” She looked sad, but only for the briefest of moments. “I mean, mine does,” she quickly amended, like she hadn’t meant to be as blunt as she’d been. A smile spread her lips immediately later but it was something familiar to me. I got the feeling that the smile was the only thing hiding her sadness.
“Is your dad at home?” I realized she had only mentioned her grandma, not her dad. I knew her mom had passed away years ago, so naturally I wondered what Adam’s home life looked like. And at the same time, I wondered if I was crossing the line by asking.
“I have no idea where he is.” She shrugged and my heart broke a little in my chest for her. I complained about my dad a lot, but damn if the dichotomy of my situation against Casey’s didn’t remind me of my own fortune. “He comes around once in a while. Maybe he’ll be by for my birthday.”
“When is that?”
“Couple weeks.” She sniffed and picked up her soda. “But like what I said about Adam. He’s really a big softie. He’s just better at pretending than I am.” She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips as she sucked through the straw. “He doesn’t like our dad. And my mom died a while ago.”
I knew that, but the way she said it, flatly and without emotion, shook me a bit. “I knew about that but still, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged again, a movement I was realizing was her way of hiding how she really felt. “I was little. And I have Gram. And Adam. And even Caleb, when he comes home for long weekends.”
“Caleb,” I said, the name knocking around my brain. “He’s your older brother, right?” Older than Adam, too, if my memory served. He’d been a few years older than us in school.
“Yeah. It was him or Adam to come home when Gram got put in the hospital again.” Casey turned her head so she faced the window. I could see Adam’s pacing reflected in the glass. “So, he’s nice. He just acts like he isn’t.”
I took a breath in, absorbing all this new information. I remembered him in high school, before he’d learned to hate me. He had been nice. So nice, that—Tori was right—I had had a mega secret crush on him. But now? Well, being the recipient of his hate had cooled that crush down. Not entirely, because my body still warmed when he so much as looked at me. Like I was burning from the inside out.
“You’re lucky to have a brother who cares,” I said, hoping longing wasn’t present in my voice. I had a dad, and Casey did not. But she had a brother, at least one older sibling who looked after her. And while I had sisters, they were more acquaintances than people I could count on.
When Adam returned, a man at the counter called his name we three approached the counter. As the man went over the car’s issues line-by-line, I could visibly see it affecting Adam’s face: the tightening of his jaw, the vein protruding in his forehead, the whiteness of his knuckles as he clenched them on the counter. His face didn’t register anger, but something more heart-breaking: complete and utter hopelessness.
“How long for these repairs?”
“I can have it done tomorrow.”
“This is more than I expected,” Adam said, tapping the number at the bottom of the invoice.
“It’s fine,” I said, my voice coming out meek. Adam turned to me, staring at me like he wanted to climb inside my head and understand why I offered. Before he could protest again, I slipped the closest card out of my wallet and handed it to the man. “Run this.”
It was only after I handed him the card that I realized I had handed him the wrong one. Navy and I shared a checking account that we used to pay for our shared bills for the apartment, and I had my own debit card as well. But the card I had given the mechanic was for mine and Navy’s account. I debated, briefly, halting him from running it. I knew there was plenty of money in the account—that wasn’t the issue—but I would have to pull money out of my own account and give it to Navy to deposit. The debate over correcting my mistake was brief, thanks to the fact that I knew this situation was already unbearably embarrassing for Adam and the last thing I wanted was to explain that I had lied, and used another card that still wasn’t my dad’s.
The mechanic handed me a receipt and the card, which I slipped into my wallet and signed as quickly as I could. “Need a ride back here tomorrow?” I asked Adam as I shoved my wallet into my purse.
“No, it’s fine,” he said. He swallowed and looked between the mechanic and me. “Thanks, Hollis.”
I nodded, not wanting to make a big deal of this. “What say we get you guys home?” I asked them both, looking at Casey and not Adam because his steady stare was making me feel like I needed to confess the lie. But it wouldn’t make him feel better, I reasoned with myself as I drove them home.
After stopping at an ATM to get cash for Navy, I headed home.
When I finally got home, Navy greeted me with one of her Navy hugs. Squeezed arms around the back and then a side to side motion that could be a
lmost mistaken for a dance. But it was just Navy. She let go of me, taking one of my suitcases before she shut the door. “You made it!”
I glanced at the clock above the television and brushed my hair back from my forehead. “Yeah. Long day.”
“I’d guess so. You had planned to be here hours ago.” Navy moved into the kitchen, which overlooked the living room where I collapsed onto one end of the super plush gray sectional. I took in the apartment, my eyes traveling over the living room and the kitchen that overlooked it. It was my first time seeing it with furniture and decorations up on the wall. The sectional had fluffy pillows at each end and in the corner and the coffee table was actually a leather ottoman that looked inviting to my feet. On one wall, the television hung, with photos on either side hung up. The stools that sat under the overhang on the kitchen peninsula looked plush like the couch, and on the center of the white countertop was a mesh bowl that I could see fruit peeking out of.
“Oh, you look tired. Rough drive?”
Though too young to be one, Navy possessed the look of a worried grandmother. She also baked, cooked, and possessed more love than I knew one person could contain within themselves. But more remarkable than the amount of love she possessed was the way she doled it out—even to people I would think as undeserving. “No, not really. I came across Adam Oliver. Remember him, from high school?”
Navy nodded, “Oh, yes. I know Adam well. I’ve been to several of his shows. He’s very good.”
I chose not to acknowledge that statement, though she wasn’t wrong. “Right, well his car was broke down, so I picked him up and then we got his sister and had to run a few errands.” That sparked an immediate thought and I scooped up my wallet, combing through my cards. “I almost forgot. I used the wrong debit card to pay for his car repairs. I grabbed cash on the way home.” I handed her the money and apologized.
One Little Lie: a hate to love rom-com Page 9