“Why? Don’t you find him attractive?”
“Yes. And that’s exactly the problem.”
“I fail to see how that’s a problem. You wouldn’t ordinarily date someone you weren’t attracted to, would you?”
“Ugh. I guess you’re right.”
“So you’ve already hurdled over the hardest part: attraction. What you have to do now is accelerate the feelings you have and the way to manifest that kind of intimacy is by treating him like you would any other boyfriend. Who knows, maybe you won’t just be fake dating before long. Maybe it’ll be real.”
She didn’t know how true that was, at least for me. “We’ve never talked about what happened in high school,” I reminded her. “He holds my hand and it feels different—real, maybe—but it’s sometimes hard to believe he doesn’t harbor some contempt for me after what happened.”
“I’m just saying, treat him like you would if he was your boyfriend for real. Jump over that sexual tension and bone him.”
Just the very thought made my entire body flush with warmth, remembering the kisses we’d already shared that I hadn’t told anyone about. Strangely, I felt protective of them. Like telling Navy or even Tori would diminish their impact somehow. “No. Way.”
“If you don’t think Keane isn’t convincing Adam of the very same thing I’m talking you into, you’re dead wrong.” She squeezed my hands. “Adam doesn’t hate you, not anymore at least. He just needs to get to know you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” We had the same chemistry we did in high school. And it had all been ruined when I had let jealously snake through me at the sight of him talking to a girl when he was supposed to find my friends. I guessed if I was afraid of anything with Adam, it was getting to know him only to be let down by him.
“I hate to tell you this, but you gotta suck it up, Hollis. You’ve struck an agreement. You both have to make this relationship believable. That means people this weekend will have to see you guys acting all couple-y.” She ran a hand over my hair. “You can do this. Be brave, Hols. I know you’ve got it in you.”
When we stopped at Adam’s Gram’s house to pick him and Keane up, I was instantly transported back to high school. The scene was a mirror of high school, if you swapped Tori for Navy. But as if she sensed my discomfort, Navy stayed in the front passenger seat instead of getting out and inviting Adam to sit beside me. I blew out a breath, grateful to be eased in.
Adam looked good. His trademark black clothes were switched up a little with the white and black checkered plaid flannel he wore over his black shirt. His jeans had tears in the knees and his black hiking boots looked broken in, unlike mine. He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the car with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked carefree in posture, but as he got closer I could see the apprehension in his eyes. He was nervous, too. Which settled me for some reason. At least I wasn’t alone in my nerves.
“Cool to sit in the backseat?” Navy called to them as I hit the unlock button. In answer, Keane opened the door and slid in, with Adam right after him. Which left Adam diagonal to me in the back seat. I could look over my shoulder at him. And as I adjusted the rearview mirror, I could see him clearly. He met my gaze and gave me a smile. A real, genuine one. So I smiled back. And warmth settled those nerves.
“Do you have the address?” Navy asked, my navigator for the trip.
Keane read it out to her and leaned in, looking over her phone as the various suggested routes popped in “Don’t go this route. It goes over the Teton pass and your boy is afraid of heights.” He patted his stomach. “Don’t need to begin this weekend with some vom-vom, do we?”
“I have plastic bags back there, I said and pointed to the well-stocked seat organizer hanging behind Navy’s seat. “If you get sick, I mean.”
“Hollis, were you a girl scout?” Keane asked. At the shake of my head, he patted my shoulder. “Well, you’d have made a great one. Always prepared.”
Normally, I’d feel a sting at a comment like that because it was usually mocking. But Keane was just a good guy, through and through. He was the kind of guy you brought home to your parents, the guy you brought to keggers, the guy you brought as a plus-one to a wedding. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, of taking the pressure off. Which was probably why he and Navy were so close.
“We should stop here for dinner,” Navy said, showing the GPS route to Keane as I pulled onto the road. “I hear there’s a really good barbecue place there.”
“You’re speaking to my stomach.”
“Like the Teton pass speaks to your stomach?” she said on a laugh.
“Not at all the same way,” Keane said and tugged gently on her earlobe.
“Sit back and buckle up,” Navy reminded him, playfully shoving him back to his seat. She turned to Adam, nodded when she saw his belt securely fastened. “How’s the new album going?”
I looked at Adam in the rearview as I drove the route the GPS indicated. “It’s done. But it’s on hold for the minute.”
I felt bad for not asking more about his music, but when I caught Navy’s eye, I knew she was asking for my benefit as much as her curiosity. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to Denver when things settle down?”
Adam looked out the window and I focused on the road as I awaited his answer.
“Probably not. I think they’ll need to move on without me. I’ve gotta stay here, help my gram. And Casey has a few years before she graduates.”
There was silence for a moment. There was no mistaking the longing in his voice. Giving up the band was no doubt going to be disappointing for Adam. It was akin to me giving up my own dreams for the time being, but on a nuclear level. I could always travel. But I knew it’d taken a while for Adam to find his bandmates, and that putting out an album must have cost more time and money than I could imagine.
“You could tutor,” Navy said. I felt her look at me. “Like Hollis does. That way, you can keep making music. My aunt has that music shop on Capitol Ave. They’re always looking for new tutors.”
“I could,” Adam said, but there wasn’t conviction behind his words. “I don’t think I’m cut out for teaching. I don’t have the patience. Hollis does, in spades.”
Was that a compliment? I glanced at him in the rearview and he was looking squarely at me. “Thanks,” I murmured.
“You’d need to have the patience to put up with Adam,” Keane said, elbowing him in the backseat. “But Navy’s right. I’m sure it’s something you could try to do, at the very least.”
“Maybe,” Adam said, but then he changed the subject. “How was the first week of classes?”
Navy turned in her seat. “Fine. I’ve got homework I’ll have to disappear to do, but my teachers seem pretty great so far.”
“Hollis?” Adam asked, and I got the feeling when he’d first posed the question, he’d intended it for me.
“It’s good.” I had completed my homework before this weekend, even though that had meant staying up until midnight the night before, after Adam had brought me home, in order to do so. There was no way I’d be able to relax at all this weekend if I had to worry about incomplete assignments. “But I have a feeling next month my schedule will be slammed.”
“Tutoring schedule?”
I nodded. “There are a lot of people in my Psychological Anthropology class that seem ill-prepared.”
“Just don’t let them take advantage of you this year,” Navy chided me. She gentled her response with a squeeze on my arm. “If they want you to help, they should pay you for it.”
“I know,” I said, at the same time that Adam said, “What do you mean?”
Before I could answer, Navy spoke up. “Last year, people would act friendly with Hollis. You know, like invite her to parties or whatever. But it was all a ruse.”
“Well, I don’t know that for sure.”
“But I do,” she said, facing me, an eyebrow raised. She turned back to the guys. “But really, they
just wanted to be chummy with her so they could ask for help. Free help.”
“And did you? Help them?” Adam asked.
I nodded. “I can admit, that sometimes it bit me in the butt. But it’s hard to say no when someone who calls you their friend asks for help.”
“No, it’s not.” Adam leaned over, so that he was inches from me. “It’s one syllable. Two letters. Try it out.”
It felt silly to shake my head, so I said it. “No.”
“Good job. Now that you know how to say that word, use it more often.”
“It’s easier said than done.”
“So then don’t just say ‘no’. Follow through with that no. If someone wants your help for free, let them know your tutoring hours are pretty full but they can try to get on your schedule,” Navy piped in. “It’s not unkind to ask to be compensated for work. It’s unkind to ask for it for free, especially when you don’t have a real relationship with them.”
The real relationship bit of her sentence sunk in and, judging by Adam’s reflection in the mirror, it had for him too. “I’ll try,” I said, noncommittally.
“Don’t just try, do it. It’s not shameful to say no, Hollis.” Adam stared intently at me. “The sooner you start saying no, the easier it will be.”
I gave a curt nod. “Okay.”
29
Adam
By the time we made it the cabin, it was dark. The cabin was situated on a lake, not dissimilar to Amber Lake, but it was infinitely quieter up in the mountains. We were backed up to the Tetons, and the lake spread out before us wasn’t crowded like the lake back home was in the summertime.
Keane’s parents owned this little cabin and during the summer months they rented it out to the flocks of tourists who wanted a bit of wilderness. But in September, tourism had started to die off as this part of the state saw cold weather sooner than other parts.
The hazy light by the front door of the cabin greeted us but rooms were also lit up inside. Keane’s friends from work had arrived already, and the plume of smoke from the back yard wafted over to us.
“S’mores,” Navy said and clapped her hands. “It’s been so long since I had one!”
Hollis opened the back of the car but before she could grab her duffel, I had it in my hands. Keane grabbed the cooler he’d packed and Navy grabbed her bag as well, leaving Hollis bagless. She wrung her hands.
“It’s fine,” I told her, adjusting the bag to my other hand so I could put an arm around her. “This is what a boyfriend would do.”
She gave me a small smile, but I could already sense her retreating into her shell. I squeezed her a little, leading her behind Navy and Keane into the house. “Do you like s’mores?” I asked, trying to tap into her a little. She’d kept quiet most of the ride and now that we were here, I could see her clamming up little by little. She didn’t like crowds, I remembered that from high school.
“Yes. When we were kids, my sister Angie once used our gas stove to make a s’more. She caught a bag of bread on fire. My dad had to use the fire extinguisher to put everything out.”
“How old were you?”
She furrowed her brow. “Maybe six or seven? Angie was fourteen. Needless to say, that was the first and the last time she cooked.”
“Does she live in Amber Lake still?” I held the door open for her, ushering her in ahead of me.
“No.” She shook her head. “She lives in a kind of commune, up in Alaska. With a few dozen other people.”
“A commune?” I raised an eyebrow and set my bag on the empty bedroom we came across. Hollis didn’t seem nervous about being in a bedroom with me yet, so I let her continue before she was hyper-aware and then, as a result, anxious.
“Yes. I guess they all have roles as gardeners, builders, and hunters.”
“That sounds like the opening of a dystopian novel.”
At that comment, her eyes lit up, which made them look larger, and more innocent than I was fully prepared for. “You read?”
I was struck by her question. “Yes…” What kind of question was that?
“I love to read.” She placed her hands in her lap and looked up for a moment, the softest smile on her lips. “When I was in Bolivia, we mostly stayed in tents. I brought five books with me, and my e-reader. I’d charge it during the day and at night I’d just stay awake to read.”
“Was it hot there?”
“Yes, it was a scorcher.” She held her arms out to me, and shoved the sleeves of her heavy-weight sweater up her arms. “That’s why I’m so tan.”
She had a dozen little freckles lining her arms, and I didn’t know why I found that so attractive. When she pulled her sleeves back down, color filled her cheeks. All I wanted to do was talk to her. We were at the cabin to spend time as a group, but after that last kiss, and the feelings we’d both discovered, I wanted to just sit with her, navigate those waters until we figured a way through.
I sat beside her on the bed, wanting to talk about last night.
She pulled out her phone. “Let’s take a photo for social media.”
I nodded, but didn’t lean into her as I held the phone up to take the snap. When I pulled it back, I showed her and said, “What a great picture of two people who have zero romantic chemistry.”
She frowned as she looked at the picture too. We looked friendly enough—but that was it. Friends. The inches that separated us were as distancing as a mile.
“Let’s try again,” she said, hitting the delete button.
“Okay. Well, this time, how about you act like you like me. That’ll help.”
She leaned into me, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. I tilted my head down so there was no white space between us and took the pic. “I do like you, you know. It’s you who hated me, remember?” She said it so quietly, I wasn’t sure if I had heard her at first.
What did I even reply to that? Especially after what we’d gone through just the day before. Maybe in high school, I hadn’t really liked her. But it was hard to imagine that I ever hated her. “I don’t think this is a good time to talk about that,” I said diplomatically, like a coward.
“You’re right. We’ve got a bunch of people to visit with. More photos to take and post.” She stood and something about her words unsettled me.
“Okay,” I said, but my answer had come slowly. I extended a hand to her. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
By the time we joined the rest of the group, they were at least a couple drinks in, gathered around a metal fire ring in Adirondack chairs. The smell of burning marshmallows permeated the air and the sounds of laughter and the low beat of some music made everything feel cozy, despite being so out in the open.
“Hey,” Keane said, standing.
“Hi guys,” I said to his coworkers who were in a cluster of chairs surrounding the fire. I’d met them once, at orientation, but hadn’t talked to them since. I scanned the rest of the group, taking in the severe lack of chairs. Only one remained.
As if he’d seen my thoughts, Keane patted the chair. “Here, buddy, one chair for you both.”
“You can take it,” I immediately said to Hollis. “I don’t mind the ground.”
To my surprise, her hand found mine and clasped it, unsteady at first until I squeezed her once. “We can share it,” she said, as the flames danced in her eyes. She was silhouetted against the fire, her eyes bright and her lips red and her face flushed. She was beautiful in a way that distracted me.
“Okay,” I said, and cleared my throat when I felt my voice go froggy. “Sure.”
She led me by the hand to the chair. The only way we’d both fit into it was if she was on my lap. I gave her another look, to make sure she was sure, and she surprised me again when she placed a hand on my chest and gently pushed me to sit. “Like last night,” she said at my ear and I smiled.
I remembered what Keane said when he’d helped me move things around at Gram’s, about touching her and making this feel natural—so that it looked natural
. But when Hollis took a careful seat sideways across my lap, this didn’t feel natural. It felt intimate. It felt private. But most of all, it felt fucking right.
There was a war of emotions battling it out in my head. Things between us were different, everything was different. But where I was struggling was deciding what was real for Hollis or a show for everyone else.
I forced myself to play it cool and wrapped an arm around her back, securing her to my lap.
“Want a drink, Hollis? I’ve got those cans of Moscato?”
I felt, rather than saw, her nod at Navy.
“And a stick, please, Navy?” I leaned my head back so I could look at Hollis. “She wants a s’more.”
“You got it,” Navy replied. “What do you want to drink, Adam?”
“I already got it,” Keane said from my left, tapping my elbow with an ice cold beer bottle.
“Thanks, man.” I had a feeling I was going to need a few of those. I took a long pull and set it in the cup holder attached to the side of the Adirondack chair just as Navy returned with a can of wine and a metal stick with a marshmallow already shoved onto its pointy end.
Hollis twirled the stick in her hands. “Do you want one?”
I shook my head and Hollis stuck her stick over the fire, so far from the flames that Keane laughed.
“You think it’s even going to get cooked that way?” he asked her.
Hollis nodded and I held her canned wine with one hand while she cracked it open with her lone free hand. “I don’t like just shoving it in the fire. It burns up and the middle doesn’t get ooey gooey.”
“She’s right,” a guy from across the fire—the one I recognized as Todd—replied. “Low and slow is the way to go.”
I saw the small smile that stretched Hollis’s lips as she nodded at Todd. “Exactly. It’ll get brown, but on its own time. A good s’more should be earned.”
One Little Lie: a hate to love rom-com Page 26