Twelve Truths and a Lie

by Christina Lee

  Did that really just come out of my mouth?

  Her cheeks deepened further. “Geez, maybe I need you to coach me. You’re good for the self-esteem.”

  Were we now in flirting territory?

  “If you were truly serious, I’d help you out,” I said, my heart crashing against my ribcage. “But I don’t think it would go well.”

  She picked at the chocolate chips in her dessert. “Why not?”

  “Because you said so yourself,” I replied, the idea of it making me want to vomit. “You’re not a person who can be with somebody you don’t know for just one night.”

  She shrugged, steeling her jaw. As if I had just challenged her. “We’ll see.”

  Well, fuck me.

  11

  Aurora

  I was at lunch with a co-worker at a little diner around the corner from the Belleview offices. “So, what are your plans this weekend?”

  “Meeting my pals at the bar tonight and then yoga class tomorrow,” I said before biting into my chicken salad sandwich.

  “I love that you get together with your friends on a regular basis,” she said. “It seems harder to make plans the busier you get. And if you add kids to the mix, forget it.”

  My thoughts flew first to Nicole, who tried so hard to juggle it all and then to Sydney. How a missed period could’ve also happened to me when I’d been sexually active and how I hoped it didn’t result in a pregnancy for her. Not until she was ready. And not with a guy who was betrothed to somebody else.

  We trudged back to work and after a couple of no-shows, which seemed to happen regularly on Fridays in our industry, I finished my session notes and packed up to go home.

  I felt excitement and anxiety coursing through me. I didn’t know what to expect tonight when I met my friends out at Flanagan’s for our usual monthly get-together. It was as if Cameron and I shared a secret, which we hadn’t exactly planned on, but we simply weren’t ready to confess anything to our friends.

  I pulled on my favorite jeans and blousy top and grabbed my keys. Maybe Cameron wouldn’t even show up. We hadn’t discussed it at all in our texts this week.

  When I stepped inside the bar, Sydney, Nicole, and her husband, Michael, were already seated at the large round table, pitchers of beer in front of them.

  “Hey you,” Nicole said, waving me over.

  I hugged each of my friends and then sat down near Sydney.

  I noticed only a glass of water held a place in front of her at the table. I made eyes at her, and she shrugged and shook her head to ward me off. This was not the time to bring it up anyway. But her taking such a precaution only meant that she was nervous. She said she was going to give her period another week before she took any kind of pregnancy test. It seemed too early anyway. But maybe not by today’s technology.

  Should I divulge what Cameron told me about his roommate? Did she already know since she’d been intimate with him?

  As Nicole and Michael shared about their workweeks, Maddie and Cameron showed up, along with one of Maddie’s engineering co-workers. Cameron sat down in a seat directly across the table from me. Our eyes met and held as a crimson line crawled up his neck. He adjusted the collar on his shirt looking as uncomfortable as me in that instant.

  After another pitcher of beer, Nicole began a game of kill, marry, or screw using celebrity names. Sydney pretended to sip at the beer Maddie had poured her as she mumbled thanks and kept her eyes mostly averted from his. If he hadn’t had his co-worker there, who was yammering in his ear the whole time, it might’ve been even more awkward for them at this table.

  Cameron’s answers to Nicole’s game questions were interesting indeed. All his celebrity choices for screwing had been brunettes. It made me wonder if his ex was brunette, since he spent the better part of a year beneath the sheets, working her out of his system.

  My chest felt crowded with an emotion I couldn’t quite place my finger on. It wasn’t quite jealousy, more like sadness and protectiveness over the fact that he had been dumped so ruthlessly by a woman who didn’t appreciate his great qualities.

  Cameron was making fun of Maddie for saying he’d kill any girl in the game who seemed high maintenance, and when Sydney dipped her head, I couldn’t help thinking of the improbability of a match between her and Maddie based on that quality alone. I mean, even on a bad day, she looked dolled up and blinged out.

  As if wanting to embarrass Cameron in return, Maddie suddenly asked, “Who did you go to the movies with last week, Cam?”

  “You had a date?” Michael said, narrowing his eyes.

  I tried not to make eye contact with Cameron, but it was nearly impossible. So I lifted the pitcher of beer and began refilling glasses.

  “No big deal,” Cameron said, nudging my foot beneath the table, and my entire body grew warm from that contact alone. “A group of co-workers met at the theatre.”

  “He was home at a reasonable hour like a good boy,” Maddie said, smirking.

  “Screw you,” Cameron said, barking out a laugh, though there was a tone of seriousness beneath it. I held my breath, hoping he didn’t mention that Maddie hadn’t even been home that night.

  “Whatever,” Maddie said into his beer. “I’m proud of you, buddy. Getting your act together.”

  “What am I, a dog?” Cameron snorted. “Good boy. How about you get your act together now?”

  Maddie’s mouth twisted into a frown. “How so?”

  “Never mind,” Cameron grumbled, and I realized that these guys acted more like brothers than anything with their teasing and quibbling. But what was Maddie saying that I was missing? Or was I just reading into it too much again? Cameron wasn’t excessively drinking or sloshing his beer around, so maybe my warning flags were way out of sync this time around.

  The same bouncer from the other night walked by in his sexy kilt, and Sydney nudged me as we made googly eyes in his direction.

  “What is it about women and kilts?” Michael asked, shaking his head.

  “Maybe it’s the question of what’s underneath?” Sydney suggested, waggling her eyebrows. “Our friend, Aurora, here needs to do some investigating.”

  If a hole had opened up beneath the table, I would’ve crawled in right then.

  “Yep,” Nicole said. “Then the dude would fall under her spell, and they’d run off to Scotland and have kilted babies.”

  My cheeks heated up and I could feel Cameron’s eyes on me.

  “Ugh.” I dropped my head to my chin dramatically. “Stop it right now, people.”

  “Maybe guys just know she’s a good catch,” Cameron said, and our gazes clashed across the table. My heart was thrashing in my chest, and I could feel the heat climbing my cheeks. He was being a good friend, saving me from mortification, but I could tell my friends were shocked that he had said anything at all.

  “Well, at least somebody sticks up for me,” I responded, cutting my eyes away and playing it off.

  “Oh, stop,” Nicole said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you’re a good catch. The best. That was never the issue. Now, the guys on the other hand…when the right one comes along, we’ll all know it.”

  “Whatever,” I said, desperate to move away from naming any of those guys or their issues. “Besides, I discovered I like being alone.”

  “Told you so,” Sydney replied. I noticed how desperately she was avoiding eye contact with Maddie, and I felt bad that she was struggling for a wholly different reason.

  “Right,” I said, continuing my point. “Nobody’s needs to cater to. I can even eat a bowl of cereal for dinner while watching a sappy Lifetime movie whenever I want.”

  I heard Cameron snort, but I ignored him, because if he caught my eye, I’d probably burst out laughing.

  “Hear, hear,” Nicole said, and we toasted with our plastic beer cups.

  I certainly learned more about Cameron from his friends’ point of view as the night wore on, mostly that he was dedicated to his job and family. But the truth was, I ki
nd of missed my one-on-one time with him, and I’d have to wait until next week to get my fix again. And yeah, that logic right there was a hundred shades of messed up. I’d just blame it on the therapeutic effects of the Chastity Club.

  “Are you going to your ten-year high school reunion?” Michael asked Cameron, and everyone stopped chattering to listen in. Nervous eyes darted all around.

  What was I missing here?

  “Yeah, I was planning on it,” he mumbled. “Plenty of friends to reconnect with. My old football coach is supposed to show up, and my former teammates messaged me about it.”

  “What are you going to do?” Maddie asked, and I could see trepidation in his eyes.

  “Bring a date, I guess.” Cameron’s gaze scanned past me at the table. “Or I could always go alone.”

  “No way,” Michael said, pouring his wife a drink and then grabbing for a nacho. “You need to take somebody, especially if Mike is going to show up with her.”

  “Her?” I asked aloud without meaning to. Sydney raised her eyebrows at me.

  “The ex who cheated on him,” Michael replied, leaning around Maddie to look at me.

  I pretended not to already know the information about his ex while my stomach seized up. Cameron wouldn’t meet my eyes across the table.

  I took a sip of my beer and considered heading to the restroom because I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable during this conversation.

  “How about a co-worker you can be casual with?” Nicole asked.

  “Casual?” Maddie snorted. “You remember what his casual has looked like?”

  “Enough, guys. Fuck,” Cameron said, looking like he was ready to bolt from the table. I didn’t blame him. Our friends could be too perceptive, too nosy, and too damn much sometimes. “Obviously, I got my shit together.”

  “I know, dude,” Maddie said, reaching his hand to his shoulder, but Cameron shrugged him off. “Just yanking your chain.”

  “How about asking Aurora?” Sydney’s voice pitched, as if it was the best idea in the world.

  My head snapped up. “Me?”

  “Sure, you’ll keep him in line,” she said, winking.

  “Who’s going to keep Aurora in line?” Nicole asked, grinning. “She’d have somebody down on one knee by the end of the weekend.”

  “As long as the ring is at least a carat,” Sydney deadpanned, and Nicole and Michael snickered.

  “Stop.” I was beyond done with this exchange, especially at Cameron’s expense and mine.

  “Or maybe you’ll let loose and find somebody to hook up with from out of town,” Nicole said, giving Sydney a fist bump. Though Sydney now looked like she might puke, the idea having hit too close to home.

  “Do we really have to discuss this publicly?” I said, grinding my teeth.

  “Seriously,” Cameron said, meeting my gaze. “You’d think we couldn’t make adult decisions on our own.”

  “Like we’re a couple of kids and these guys are our annoying family members,” I said waving my hand at the table, maybe hoping they’d magically disappear.

  “Right?” He laughed, and it was as if everyone else at the table faded into the background and it was just him and me in our own little bubble again on a Friday night.

  “You want to go with me, Aurora?” he asked in a low and smooth voice, and I nearly swooned. He held my gaze for several long seconds.

  “When is it?” I finally asked, after I got my cemented lips unstuck.

  “Weekend after next,” he said, and I was thankful that our friends had finally shut the heck up and were no longer inserting themselves in the exchange.

  Still, I felt like I was in grade school and everybody at our table was now privy to a private moment. “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

  He looked relieved and thankful, and I was glad I could provide that reassurance for him. He was still getting over his girlfriend’s betrayal, and behind the gleam in his eye, it wasn’t difficult to spot the still fresh wound. If I could help ease the discomfort by hanging with him and providing a listening ear over a weekend, I’d do it, no questions asked.

  After Cameron broke eye contact with me and looked around, he noticed the smug looks on our friends’ faces and shook his head.

  When his shoulders shrank in this perfectly boyish and self-deprecating way, I already knew my heart was headed for trouble. Le sigh.

  12

  Cameron

  Me: Sorry if I put you on the spot, you can totally back out. Our friends are crazy.

  Aurora: No, it’s cool, I’d like to go. Well…like isn’t exactly the right word because why would I want to see the evil ex who broke your heart? So instead I’ll say—I want to be there to support you.

  Me: Understood. Appreciate it.

  Truth of the matter was that I was secretly thrilled to have her with me. More and more, I was growing to like her. A lot. She was a comfort to be around. And she kind of made my palms sweat at the same time, but I could get over that if I needed to.

  She would help relieve some of the burden of what was quickly becoming an event I dreaded. But I didn’t want to be the one to back down. Not when I could catch up with old classmates that I once considered good friends.

  Work flew by this time because it was testing week at school. I had to divide my kids into two separate groups to administer the standardized exams. Plenty of teachers felt the crackdown from the administration because we needed to maintain our funding.

  I steered clear of the teachers’ lounge all week so that I didn’t see the frazzled faces or hear any rude remarks about my kids throwing off the whole school, especially if we were placed back on academic warning because our scores didn’t improve.

  My kids were some of the brightest in the business. Just because they were special needs did not mean they lacked brains. Just like kids wearing hoodies in every major metropolitan city did not make them thugs. But I already knew the ruling would come down from the board on this fall’s ballot to ban the jackets from all schools in the district because of an incident that happened over winter break involving one of our own concealing a knife in one of his pockets.

  On the flip side, certain clothes meant status in the hood and certain tests were triggers at school. Both were important to the social constructs of these students’ lives. So getting my kids through the exams in small batches without meltdowns was a blessing.

  On Friday, I treated them to downtime because their brains were as fried as mine. They loved multiplication basketball and having snacks at their desk that Sandy had brought them from home.

  At the end of every week, anonymous parcels were delivered by the local food bank for those families who couldn’t afford to feed their children on a regular basis.

  Normally the packages contained food staples, like rice and pasta and beans, so that families could make them last the entire week. I anonymously hung the bags near certain kids’ jackets in the coatroom while Sandy lined them up for the final bell. On the way out, the kids grabbed their possessions without shame, but they knew what was inside those parcels.

  Thankfully, even my most vocal kid, Christopher, kept his trap shut about it.

  Before Darius swung out of the classroom to his bus, his container of food held tightly in his grip, he startled me by wrapping his arms around my waist to deliver a solid hug. He didn’t look at me, probably too embarrassed to make eye contact, so I stayed silent and patted his shoulders instead.

  Then he was out the door. Sandy looked back at me with a watery smile as a giant lump formed in my own throat.

  When I met Aurora out at the bar later that night, she looked whipped.

  “Tough week?” I asked after ordering some nachos off the menu.

  “Had a mom melt down and take it out on her kid,” she said in a shaky voice, which told me how emotionally drained she was. “Had to call children’s services.”

  I nodded because just like her, I was a mandated reporter. If I didn’t call the hotline when I suspected abuse, my job c
ould be in jeopardy. But it could get tricky.

  “There goes the trust we’d built for months,” she said. “More than likely, Children’s Services will only make a couple of visits and close the case, especially if they know our agency is already involved. But that doesn’t mean the family will want to continue working with me. And they need the help, obviously.”

  I blew out a breath right along with her. My school day ended at three o’clock and outside of prep work and grading papers, I could walk away from my job on the weekends. She, on the other hand, could not.

  “Another kid reported suicidal ideation, had to do a safety plan, and possible admit to the psych ward.” She looked at her phone. “Still waiting on that decision. When it rains, it pours.”

  “So much responsibility for people’s lives,” I said, and her shoulders seemed to carry the weight of that statement. I had the urge to reach over and massage her tight muscles in the middle of the bar. Instead, I gave her arm a quick squeeze in a show of support.

  “Exactly,” she responded, biting her lip. “Feels like such a huge feat sometimes.”

  “At least I get weekends and summers off,” I said, after sipping from my glass. “You guys are on call, right?”

  “Right,” she replied, her eyes darting to her phone again.

  “Will you be on call next weekend?” I asked, feeling guilty for even asking about the trip to my reunion.

  “No, my co-worker has beeper duty,” she said. “So I can unwind or at least keep you from getting too hammered.”

  “Ha!” I said, practically sputtering my beer. But there had been an edge to her comment, so I quickly turned to see her eyes. “I hope by now you realize that I know how to control my own liquor intake. What happened this past year was just—”

  “None of my business,” she said, her arm flailing. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. It was stupid—”

  “Nah, it’s okay. If you’re going away with me for the weekend, maybe you need to know that I won’t be overindulging. Or driving drunk.”