Pretty Little Lies

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Pretty Little Lies Page 6

by Jennifer Miller


  “Mom, I told you that you have it all wrong. Olivia and I aren’t serious. She’s a great girl, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been a fun distraction. She has been a cool person to be around and scratch that itch for me while getting through high school, but once we get to college, I plan on cutting her loose. I am not about to rest my future on the first girl I’ve ever dated.”

  The tears begin streaming down my face. His words cut through me like a knife. And my heart. Oh my God, my chest hurts. It’s like I can literally feel it breaking inside my chest. I don’t even realize that I’m clutching my chest, holding my hands over my heart like I can keep it from breaking out of my body. Like I’m holding it in. The pain is unbearable. I can’t believe what I heard. I’m just a distraction? He’s going to cut me loose?

  I suddenly realize that I had stepped through the doorway – that I was further into the room than I thought. I’m just about to turn around and run away when Luke looks up and sees me standing there. He takes in my tear streaked face, my hand over my heart, and his face instantly pales and a look of horror crosses his face.

  He realizes he’s been caught, that I heard what he said.

  Without another thought, I turn around and flee down the hallway. I run out the door, and nearly run down Pearl, who was walking toward the kitchen, in my haste to get out of there. I can’t breathe. It hurts to breathe.

  I hear Luke yelling, “OLIVIA!” But I don’t stop. I feel almost other-worldly. Out of my body. Before I know it, I’ve started my car and accelerating as fast as I can, I race out of the driveway and out into the street. I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. My chest. It hurts so much. I just drive.

  I hear my phone ringing – playing My Love by Justin Timberlake. Then it starts beeping alerting me to not only phone calls but text messages coming in as well. I ignore it all, I don’t understand why he is calling me. Because I know his secret? What else is there to say? Is he wanting to try and offer some explanation? Does he feel guilty that I overheard the truth, and that he didn’t have the guts or heart to tell me face-to-face? And when was he going to do that? Today before he left at our tree? With an ear-piercing, heart-wrenching moan and uncontrollable weeping, the reality of what I just heard comes crashing down. I mean nothing to him. He doesn’t really love me. It was all just words…a game. I keep driving. I just need to keep driving.

  After all of this time, it amazes me that that my heart can still hurt from the memories of something that happened so long ago. Eventually I fall into a restless sleep.

  Waking up with a jolt, I wonder what has woken me up. I gaze around the room and see the bright warm sun coming in through the windows, casting square lights on the floor. Oh, that must be it. I forgot to shut the drapes before I fell asleep.

  Beep Beep…..Beep Beep……Beep Beep….

  Oh. My phone is beeping. That must be what woke me. I grab it and my eyeglasses off the bedside table, hastily put my glasses on, having disposed of my recent pair of extended wear contact lenses before bed, and glance at the clock. Nine o’clock. I slept in, and it feels nice. Stretching, my mind begins to spin with what I’d like to accomplish today. I am finally able to focus on my cell phone’s screen and realize that the beeps were alerting me to new emails. I tap the envelope icon and open my email.

  My inbox is full of emails all from the same sender. ‘Date Me.’

  I rapidly scroll through them. There has to be at least 50.

  Holy. Hell.

  efore I can even begin to contemplate how many emails I may have received, I get out of bed, go to my closet to grab a change of clothes and head to the bathroom. I leisurely remove my clothes and start the shower. While waiting for the water to warm up, I grab my toothbrush and toothpaste and start brushing my teeth, while simultaneously checking myself out in the bathroom mirror.

  I’ve lost weight since my divorce, but I don’t look gaunt by any means. My stomach still has a tiny pooch, which I’m convinced is never going to go away, no matter how many sit-ups I do, but my face does look a little thinner. The dark circles under my eyes are prominent as ever, without makeup to cover them up. My hair seems to have lost a bit of sheen too. Can stress do that? Maybe it just needs a good, deep conditioning. I lean closer to the mirror and look deep into my green eyes. I see the beginning of a glimmer there, like a hint of a secret waiting to be revealed. The corners of my mouth rise a little at the thought. I know without a doubt, little by little, the real me will shine through. The insecure broken girl I became will keep fading away. I feel better than I have in a long time, which considering everything, may seem somewhat strange, but quickly reaffirms that getting out of Boston was good for me.

  I also can’t discount Pyper’s influence. Friendship really does help heal the soul. I’m lucky to have Pyper. She’s a loyal and authentic friend. And she knows how to look beyond appearances and what I may say to what is actually in my heart and soul. Such that if I were to attempt to delude her by saying with a straight face that I’m moving on and doing just fine, she would walk to me with a slight smile, give me a hug and yet, know without a doubt that I’m not really doing okay. She would continue to encourage and support me, standing right by my side, for however long necessary. She cuts right through the bullshit and sees the truth; sometimes even when I don’t see it myself. It really is true what they say; a true friend will see the tears pouring down your face, while the others believe the smile you’re faking.

  Setting my toothbrush down, I turn and walk to the shower, grab a soft blue towel out of the linen closet beside the shower, hang it on the hook and step in. Once inside with the warm therapeutic shower spray nurturing my entire body, I start thinking about the day ahead. I need to organize my closet, throw some laundry in the wash, work on my blog post, and my Marc Jacobs fashion show write up. I also need to draft my newest article about harem pants. Apparently they are making a comeback. Ugh. Just the thought makes me shudder. Then later, I will be off to lunch with Pyper’s parents. My mind wanders to the memory that seemed to come out of nowhere last night. Luke. I have no doubt that being back in Illinois again ignited that memory. When I considered coming back here I knew this was a possibility, and though I tried to play the “what if” game to prepare myself, it doesn’t make it any easier. As if thinking about him was just asking for another memory, one assaults me before I can stop it.

  It’s a beautiful spring day outside and we are sitting underneath “our” tree. I’m on a blanket with the smell of grass and dirt beneath me, and the smell of sunshine and flowers blooming in the air. I’m lying on my left side, facing Luke, who is lying on his back with his arms thrown above his head, eyes closed. I’m watching the sunlight trickle over his face and body in dancing patterns made from the light shining through the leaves hanging from the tree’s branches. I can’t stop looking at him. He’s beautiful. His dark hair - short on the sides and spiked on top, in the popular style guys are wearing right now – that he somehow seems to pull off better than all the others. He has a strong straight nose, high cheekbones that make me swoon, and a strong jaw with a slight dimple in his chin. He has one dimple on the right side of his mouth that deepens when he gives me a full blown grin, and it just begs me to explore it with my tongue. His best feature is hidden underneath his closed eyelids. His eyes are the most striking blue. Like the sky on a cloudless day. His full eyebrows and long dark lashes that any girl would envy only make them more breathtaking. His lips are full and kissable, and when he is thinking hard about something he presses them together. Sometimes he sticks his tongue between his lips and holds it there when he’s concentrating, which always makes me smile. My favorite thing about that soft mouth of his - besides his kisses - is when he raises one corner to smirk at me. When he gives me that sexy smirk, I would do almost anything he asks, which is why I will do anything to make sure he never knows it.

  Once my eyes leave his face, they trail down his strong neck, to his chest. His grey t-shirt is just s
nug enough that I can see his muscular chest underneath. The bottom of his shirt has risen up slightly, giving me a look at the hair dusting his stomach and the tease of his hip lines. Football keeps him in excellent shape. Everything about him is perfection.

  Before I can get much further, movement distracts me and I look back at his face. I see those beautiful lips curve up into a smile at the corners. “You’re staring again,” he says.

  He doesn’t fool me. I know he knew I was staring the entire time, and he allowed me because he silently enjoyed it. But, I decide to play along. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay but turnaround is fair play.”

  He opens his eyes and I inhale quietly at the sight. I’m thankful it was soft enough that he doesn’t hear. I feel silly sometimes at the way he makes me feel; the way he can make my body feel with just one look. Like I’m the most exquisite thing he has ever seen. His looks could make me a believer. He just stares at me for a moment and I look right back. I can’t look away; why would I want to?

  “You’re beautiful, Olivia. I’m the one that should be doing the staring. The way your hair is blowing in the wind, the light from the sun is dancing on your face, your cheeks are slightly flushed, your lips are pink…you take my breath away.”

  Now I’m staring at him in wonder. “Oh Luke, don’t you get it? If I’m beautiful at all, it’s because of you. The way you look at me, the way you make me feel, it’s like nothing else matters but the two of us right here, right now. When I’m with you, all the insecurities go away because for some reason you don’t see them. You make me perfectly imperfect.”

  “I don’t think so, Olivia, there’s nothing imperfect about you.” Then he leans in, and I know he’s about to kiss me and the butterflies in my stomach start doing somersaults. His lips meet mine and my whole body comes alive. He moves closer and our chests are touching, then he rolls me to my back and places part of his body on top of mine. He looks down at me, cups the side of my face and traces his tongue along my bottom lip, seeking entrance. When I give it to him and his tongue meets mine, my body becomes like an inferno. He consumes me. My heart, my soul, every thought, and every wish belong to him. He makes my soul sing.

  As he takes his lips away from mine, his thumb brushes across my cheekbone and he looks deep into my eyes. I swear in that moment, his eyes are reflecting my thoughts and feelings.

  Snapping myself out of that painful memory, I’m angry with myself. It wasn’t real. Maybe it seemed to be and maybe he said it was at one time, but he changed his mind. He changed; his feelings changed. I don’t know, but he clearly didn’t feel that way after all. When I fled his house that day, I purposely didn’t answer his calls the entire night. I don’t even remember where I went, but I know I drove around for hours. My parents were beside themselves by the time I got home. My Mom told me that Luke had been there but I refused to talk to them about it right then. I knew Luke was leaving for vacation the next morning for two weeks, so all I had to do was avoid his calls overnight.

  Once I knew he was gone, I had two weeks before he returned to figure out what I was going to do. So, I begged my parents to help me rearrange my plans and attend Boston U, instead of Loyola. With a bit of work and a little luck, I knew that by the time he returned, it would be just in time for classes to begin and I could already be gone and moved into my dorm room. Thank goodness for Pyper’s dad and his connections to the BU board of trustees. Without him, I would never have been able to pull it off. I heard that Luke tried to reach me, but I switched my phone number and forbid Pyper or my parents to give it to him, or anyone else who might betray me. I also told them that I did not, under any circumstances, want them to tell him where I was. I felt bad for putting them in the middle, but my parents saw how hurt I was, and they were willing to do anything for me at that point. Pyper’s parents would just defer any questions to my parents or to Pyper…and she could handle herself and anyone else. She was just as angry at his betrayal as I was, and I knew I didn’t have to worry about him getting to me through her.

  I haven’t seen or heard from him since that day at his home. I made sure I didn’t have to deal with the inevitable break up and the pain of hearing him tell me he was moving on and wanted to experience all that college life had to offer him, because I cut him loose first. I did the dirty work for him.

  Shaking my head as if it would make the sad and painful memories immediately disappear, I step out of the shower and begin drying off. I wrap my wet hair in the towel and get dressed. Before I dry my hair, I decide to search for Pyper. I want to see if she woke up to the same insane amount of emails that I did. I search the condo, but Pyper is not to be found. I find the note she has left on the kitchen counter.

  “Hey hot stuff! I peeked in to tell you I was off, but you were still sleeping peacefully. I even heard you snore! Just kidding! Maybe. Anyway, I’m off to work for a bit. Be ready at 1:00, I will be back by then to grab you so we can head to my parents place! And yes, I received some emails from Date Me too. Stop freaking out! We’ll check them out together! Kisses! Pyper”

  I smile and help myself to a cup of coffee from the pot she already had brewed, bless her heart, and add some milk and three sugars. I like my coffee sweet. I head back into my room and begin tackling my to-do list!

  A few hours later, I’m feeling rather accomplished. I’ve finished my fashion show article and sent it off to the magazine editor, I uploaded my new blog post for ‘Pink Sugar Couture’ and responded to my comments from previous blog posts. I’ve made good headway in organizing my closet, and unpacked a couple of boxes I still had left in the back. I’ve gotten ready for lunch and am waiting for Pyper to get home so we can head out the door together. I’m wearing my straight leg distressed jeans, with a plain, white wife-beater tank top, with tons of chain necklaces in gold. I’ve readied my leopard print Dolce & Gabanna tote bag I received as a gift from ‘Your Style’ magazine, will wear my heeled black suede ankle boots, and my black knitted cardigan that has frills along the edges. I’m set. It may be just lunch with Pyper’s parents, but May always dresses to impress, even for a simple lunch, so if I were to show up in jeans and a t-shirt, I would feel underdressed, not that May would likely care.

  A few minutes after I sit down and start browsing through the latest issue of Cosmo, Pyper comes through the front door like a firestorm. “Hi! I’m here! Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready to take off!” She says as she goes flying by me. I don’t even have a chance to respond.

  She comes out two minutes later, “Sorry I’m running a few minutes late! I should not have had that last coffee. I had to pee so badly on the drive home. I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it in time.” She smiles at me.

  I look her over. She looks amazing in straight leg jeans, a white t-shirt with a grey sequined scarf, grey sweater that has a slight shimmer to it, light pink ballet flats, and a light pink tote bag that matches her shoes. I love that she has as much fun with fashion as I do.

  “No worries at all. How was everything at the spa?”

  “Thanks, and the spa was really good. I probably didn’t need to go in, to be honest. The display looked perfect and Caroline had everything completely under control up front. It was busy, which was nice to see.”

  “Plus I’m sure it doesn’t hurt for the boss lady to make an appearance! I’m so glad your business is flourishing Pyper. And so are you! Success agrees with you! You look great!”

  She smiles at me and says, “Back at ya babe. We should take a picture of you in that outfit for one of your ‘Outfit Shares of the Week’ posts.”

  “Oh, great idea! Would you mind?”

  “Not at all,” Pyper says already holding her hand out for my cell phone. She snaps the photo and says, “Let’s hit the road.”

  “Okay, and thanks! Your car or mine?”

  “Mine.” We walk down and get into her Mercedes, pull out of the underground parking and start making our way to Pyper’s parent’s home. Pyper�
��s Dad owns the high rise building where we live, but instead of living there, they have a massive home in Lincoln Park, a northern suburb of Chicago. It’s only about 20 minutes away. We will be there in no time.

  “So I was woken up by my phone beeping like crazy this morning. From your note I’m assuming you had the same little wakeup call?”

  “Well I wasn’t woken up because I had my phone on silent, but let me guess…you freaked out didn’t you?”

  “Maybe just a little, but then I decided not to dwell on it and tackled some other things I needed to get done. I got like 50 emails! In one night. That’s insane! I haven’t even looked at them other than to see where all the emails came from. I can’t bring myself to peek. I can’t even believe it. It has to be some kind of weird fluke.”

  “You haven’t looked at them? Girl please! I’ve already gone through mine and deleted a ton of rejects that won’t have the pleasure of even a minute of my time. There are a few possibilities though,” she says with a grin. “We can check out yours when we get back from my parent’s place.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Although, maybe I should just delete them? I’m seriously second guessing this whole thing.”

  “Don’t you dare, Olivia! We are getting you back, remember?! End of discussion.”

  I can’t help but grin at her when she gets all bossy at me. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Oh, I love this song!” Pyper turns up the radio and Kelly Clarkson blares through the speakers singing ‘Stronger’.

  I love the song too, but it makes me think of Deacon. And Luke. While going through the stress of both break ups, blasting woman empowerment music over and over makes me feel better.

  I can’t help but sing along to the words.

  Pyper looks at me and smiles, I grin back. We sing louder.

  Before long, we arrive at her parents’ house and park out front. We begin making our way to the front of their impressive, massive house, and even before we can reach the door, it opens, and May comes flying out, completely bypasses Pyper, and enfolds me into her arms. Her hugs are amazing. “Hi honey! Oh I’m so happy to see you! I’m so happy you are home. Don’t you worry about a thing, you are here now, and we love you and you are away from that horrible man. You never should have left, but we won’t even think about that, you are back now, and I’m so glad.”

 

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