Lies We Tell

by Angel Lawson

  Nausea rolls in my belly. “I don’t want a shot with Jas—Coach Chandler. What’s wrong with you? What are you doing? This isn’t a game, Al. These people are dangerous. They’re predators.”

  “You don’t understand anything, Kenley.”

  My eyes drop to the scarf. “Take that off.”

  She snorts. “What?”

  “The scarf. Take it off.”

  “No.”

  I reach for it, but she pushes her hands against my chest, knocking me back on the bed.

  “Keep your fucking hands off me,” she seethes. Her eyes shine, and she holds the scarf tight. “And stay the fuck away from me while we’re on this trip.”

  “Fine.” I heave myself off the bed. “If you’re determined to go down this road, there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

  I grab my coat and leave the room, the heavy door slamming behind me. Alice Kendrick isn’t my problem—that’s a decision we both made months before. I just hope that unlike the girls that came before her, she gets out alive.

  36

  Kenley

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes. No. Yes.”

  “Which one is it, babe?”

  “Give me one second.” I take a deep breath and position my feet on the end of the sled. Snowflakes whirl through the air and the hill below us is long and scary. Finn wraps his arms around my waist, engulfing me in his strength and warmth. I grip the sides of the sled. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He rocks back and forth, and we start to slide. He pulls me to his chest, while still holding the reins. We start slow, but quickly pick up speed. A squeal bubbles from my chest and Finn howls with laughter. We rush past other sleds, Finn’s huge body giving us momentum. I see the bump before we get there, it looks small but as the runners go over we pick up more speed, landing hard and wobbly, before careening downhill.

  “We’re going to crash!” I shout, wind and snow pelting my face.

  “I’ve got it.” He tightens the reins, dodging around a kid on a plastic disc. With our speed and momentum, it veers us toward the tree line. We hit a ridge of snow, this one catapulting us off the sled. I fly through the air, eyes closed, hands protecting my head. I land with a thud against the packed snow. I hear Finn land next to me with a grunt. I scramble up, my breath still knocked from me, and reach for him.

  “Finn! Are you okay?”

  He’s flat on his back, face scrunched in pain. “I think so. You?”

  I nod, feeling discombobulated. “Yeah. That was terrifying.”

  He cracks a grin. “And fun.”

  “That was not fun,” I say, but it’s not the truth. It was exhilarating. Wild. Free. He eyes me, knowing me better than I realize. “Want to go again?”

  He laughs and struggles to his feet, then offers me a gloved hand. I take it, and he hoists me up, pulling me into his chest. “I’ll go anywhere with you—no matter how dangerous or death-defying.”

  He bends and kisses me, faster than I want, but we’re in public.

  “Ready?” he says, grabbing the sled strap.

  “Yep,” I reply, this time with zero hesitation, and we start back up the mountain.

  Mrs. Gimple is right. After that first encounter, Alice and I are both too busy to see one another. When I get to the room to change out of my wet clothes, it’s obvious she’s already been there. The sink is damp, and her snow pants are hanging on the back of the bathroom door, drying. I struggle out of my own soaked outfit—everything got wet during the big crash and the continuously falling snow.

  I shower and change into leggings, a fluffy gray sweater and fleece-lined boots. Exhausted and achy from the full day of sledding, I avoid the stairs and go to the elevator. The doors open and see Ozzy inside, leaning against the wall.

  “Hey.” His face lights up.

  “Hi.”

  His eyes sweep over me as I step in and the door has barely closed behind me when he grabs me by the waist and pulls me close. His mouth crashes against mine, hot, wet, needy, and I hitch my leg over his hip wanting to get closer. Ozzy’s hands push into my hair and I exhale into his mouth. He tastes like mint, his tongue warm, his jaw firm.

  The elevator ride is short and we part as the bell dings, a second before the door opens. We slide apart, and I lean against the wall, heart pounding, knees weak. The door opens, revealing our classmates milling around the lobby. Ozzy smooths his shirt and glances over, smirk twisting at his lips.

  Jesus. I think he did that on purpose.

  He extends his arm, offering for me to exit first. I do, hoping I won’t stumble over my own feet in a haze of lust. Not one person in this room knows the effect that boy has on me, how he’s learned exactly what my body wants. I glance down at the ring on my finger with smug knowledge of my relationships.

  We walk through the lobby toward the dining room, my lips tingling. Ezra and Finn are already at a table—Finn with a piece of bread crammed in his mouth. They both stop talking and look our direction, eyes darting between us, like they know we’d just been kissing.

  I sense something else and the hair on the back of my neck rises. I look around and see the table of chaperones. Jason Chandler is staring in my direction. His cheeks are pink—probably from the wind on the mountain. His eyes that bright alluring blue. Mr. Waller says something to him and then looks my way. I lift my chin, pretending not to be bothered by their very existence. Mr. Baxter’s eyes cut between us, then he says something that draws their attention away.

  “God, they give me the creeps,” I mutter as I sit with the guys. The table is filled with platters of food. Ezra and Finn’s plates are already full. I grab a serving fork and add chicken and vegetables to my plate, while Ozzy goes for the bread.

  Boys. They love their carbs.

  “Ignore them,” Ezra says, popping in a in mouthful of potatoes. “They’ll be down at the bar after we have curfew, reliving the good old days.”

  I shudder, not liking the idea of these predators roaming around drunk. I’m definitely locking my door tonight.

  Dave Reynolds strolls by and stops at the table. “People are meeting up at the indoor pool tonight after dinner.” He bends down and says quietly, “I snuck in a couple bottles of grain alcohol.”

  “We’re thinking of going snowboarding. The slopes are open until ten,” Finn says, looking at me.

  “Cool. If you change your mind, we’ll be there until lights out.”

  From the smirk on his lips, I suspect the party will go on far longer than that.

  After he walks away, Finn looks at me. “Want to come with us tonight?”

  I laugh. “No way. My body feels like it got run over by a train. I’m going to take some Advil and go to bed.”

  “You sure?” Ozzy asks, looking apprehensive. “I can hang back if you want.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just want to chill out. You guys go have fun.” Truthfully, I liked the fact they enjoyed their time together. It made us stronger and solidified that this relationship isn’t just about me—but all of us.

  When the platters are cleared and the boys have each eaten two pieces of cake, Mrs. Gimple announces a few activities for the night. Snowboarding, board games, swimming…

  The guys follow me across the lobby, and I’m grateful I’ve managed to stay clear of Alice. The last time I saw her, she was headed down to the pool with a bunch of the kids from drama. At least she wasn’t following Coach Chandler and the other men back to the bar.

  “Ken,” Sadie calls from one of the couches by the fire. She and few other kids from yearbook are setting up a game. “Want to play?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “As long as it doesn’t require any movement—like Twister or something,” I call back.

  “Just your brain,” Bryant says. “You didn’t get a concussion today like Caden, did you?”

  Caden took a hard fall on the slopes today. Lucky for the student body, Walt Chambers got a video of it. He doesn’t actually have a concussion, but it gives me pause and I look
over at the guys. “Be safe, okay?”

  “We will,” Finn says.

  “See you in the morning,” Ozzy says, squeezing my hand.

  The game is fun—one of those where each card is a battle against the other. It’s silly and stupid. We pack up at midnight when Mrs. Gimple comes around, reminding us of curfew.

  “Night,” Sadie says when we get to the second floor. She opens her door and steps inside. Mine is three down and across the hall. I get inside and see that Alice isn’t back. I don’t want to think about where she is or who she’s with. I shut the door, making sure the lock latches. In the bathroom, I scrub my face and brush my teeth, then change into a T-shirt and shorts. I down two pills—specific ones my mom packed. They’re for muscle pain. It’s like she knew I’d struggle after a day on the slopes. It’s a relief when I get under the soft, crisp covers. I may be a nerd—playing board games—but it’s been a long and exhausting year. One more day and a new one begins.

  Maybe the next one will pass a little easier.

  I rouse, sort of, to the shifting of blankets, the subtle movement of the mattress. A warm hand touches my thigh; gentle and smooth. The body curves around mine, pulling me close. I’m too tired to get up, my head groggy. Soft kisses pepper my neck. My eyes flutter open but it’s pitch black.

  “Hey,” I mutter, wondering which of the boys sweet-talked their way into the room. I strain my eyes at Alice’s bed. The covers are smooth.

  “Shhh,” my bedmate replies, a hand gliding over the thin cotton covering my breasts, peaking my nipples. I arch my back and the kisses continue, slow and sensual over my shoulders, the hand dips lower, skimming my belly—drawing out an ache of want.

  Slowly my mind as well as my body awakens; flesh goosebumped, core wet. I reach behind me, pushing my fingers along the column of my bedmate’s neck. The skin is soft. The neck narrow.

  “Jesus,” the person breathes, plunging their hand down my pants. “You’re so wet.”

  My skin crawls and my pulse quickens and I turn. Even in the darkness I can make out the shape and body.

  It’s none of my boys.

  “Alice—” I gasp, but her mouth crashes into mine. Her hand rubs between my legs and her tongue forces its way between my lips. She tastes like fruit punch and aggressively grinds against me. I struggle, trying to push past the haze of my drug-induced grogginess. Alice is freakishly strong, flipping me on my back and straddling me to keep me down.

  “What are you doing!” I fight against her, but she’s got her hands clamped around my wrists.

  “I-I-I love you,” she confesses. Her words are a little slurred. “I’m tired of pretending otherwise.”

  “Alice.” I wiggle beneath her trying to get some space. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re drunk.”

  “Liquid courage, right? I’m not releasing you until you hear me out.” In the faint filter of light from under the door, I see her profile. The haunted look on her face scares me. “I love you,” she says again. “I want you, so goddammed much. I’ve always wanted you, but you could never see me. All you wanted was Rose. Finn.” She swallows thickly. “Now Ezra and Ozzy. Is everyone in this damned town really better than me?”

  I blink, trying to process what she’s saying. She’s always loved me? Like loves me? The pain pills dulled my senses but even thinking clearly, it’s confusing as hell. Trying to figure out how to calm her down. Her nails dig into the flesh of my wrists. “Of course, they’re not better than you.”

  “Then why do you love them and not me? Why do you let them taste you, feel you, fuck you? You’ve pushed me away.” Her eyes darken. “If-if you give me a chance, I can give you everything they do—more. I can be your forbidden lover. I know you better than anyone, Kenley. I can give you what you want.”

  She kisses me again, less forcefully, but still against my will. I clamp down and turn my head away.

  “Alice.” Tears prick at my eyes. “This is not what I want. You’re scaring me. You’re hurting me.”

  Anguish flickers on her face. Self-doubt. I take the distraction and twist away, throwing both of us on the floor. Her head hits the table between the bed and I scramble away. I run toward the door, but she’s up in an instant, racing over the bed and knocking me down. She gets between me and the door, blocking my exit.

  Breathing heavy, I turn on the lamp, illuminating the room. Her hair is messy, her eye makeup smeared. Dark bruises mark the pale skin on her throat. I touch my neck.

  “He did that to you. Coach Chandler.”

  “I wanted him to.” She juts her chin out—ever defiant. “If Rose could do it, then so could I. Then maybe you’d love me.”

  Her eyes are soulless. Lost. “Alice, what you’re saying isn’t rational. I didn’t love Rose. She was troubled. In trouble. I don’t want anything to do with that, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “SugarBabies trouble?” she asks, eyes narrowed. “BD, trouble? Because you seemed eager to dive into all that. Isn’t that right, Princess.”

  My heart skips.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Because I know you, Kenley Keene. I know about your obsession with Audrina Dollanganger and her Eden books. I know about your inability to let anything go. I know your passwords, your favorite flower, where you keep the spare key under your back porch. I even know your fucking bra size.”

  My mouth turns dry. “You broke into my house. You left that stuff, then stole it back. Why?”

  “Because you wanted to play games. You wanted risk. You wanted excitement—I’m the one that gave it to you.”

  “But Chandler and Waller—they were behind it. They were gaslighting me. They were trying to scare me off.”

  That’s what Mr. Baxter said. My mind races.

  She tilts her head. “Were they?”

  “Have they been making you do all this?” I ask. “Why are you telling me? Why now?”

  “Because you love games and I gave them to you. I’m your match, Kenley.” She takes a step forward, closing the gap. I’ve got nowhere to go. I’m trapped. “I’m the one you should love. Not that thick-necked jock, or the delinquent. Not pathetic Ozzy. I’m not mad at your time with them. You gained experience. Just like I did. I knew that testing those boundaries would only make our connection more thrilling.”

  I knew Alice was struggling, but I had no idea she’d gone so far off the deep end.

  “Give me a chance, Ken. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

  I don’t say a word. I just wait as she approaches, body shaking, nerves fried. I’ve had a lot of feelings about Alice over the years, but this is the first time I’ve been afraid.

  She’s a foot away when I ball my fists and take a step back. I think back to all my workouts with Finn; the boxing, the cardio, the pushing myself to the limit. I’d wanted to feel strong after Monica. I don’t. I’m just scared, but I know what I have to do. I lunge forward, hands outstretched, taking her off guard. The palm of my hand juts into her throat, hitting her where she’s already bruised. She gasps, gagging, eyes wide in surprise. I punch her in the side and push her on the bed, focused on my escape. I get to the door and fumble with the lock, the security bar is flipped, my hands tremble.

  “Kenley, stop,” she gasps, but I get the door open and step into the silent hall. It’s late—way past curfew. I run, not sure where to go. Not sure where to hide.

  “Kenley!”

  Her voice is a harsh whisper, bouncing off the hallway walls. The elevator doors open just as I get to the end of the hall and I step inside. I press the button to close the door and watch Alice’s face crumble as the door slides shut. The boys are on the fourth floor. A room number floats in my head. Four-twelve.

  The doors open and I step outside, heart racing for a million reasons. Is Alice following me? Am I going to get caught? What the hell is going on?

  I pass the dimmed sconces that divide the rooms and stop in front of their door, second guessing that it’s the
right number. What if it’s Chandler’s room? Waller or Baxter.

  I hear a noise down the hall and don’t wait to see what caused it, knocking on the door.

  I wait, and do it again.

  “Come on, come on, come on,” I mutter, panic filling my chest. I’m about to give up when the door opens and a confused and shirtless Ezra opens the door.

  “Oh thank God.” I rush past him and pull him with me, closing the door and double checking the lock.

  “Babe?” he asks, rubbing his eyes. “What the hell?”

  “I need somewhere to stay. To hide.”

  He wakes up, jaw tightening.

  “From who?”

  I swallow, trying to process everything that just happened. “From Alice.”

  37

  Ezra

  She stands with her back against the door, breathing erratically. She wipes at her eyes, ringed and wet, rubbing at red marks on her wrists. Words bubble from her mouth; Alice. Kissed her. Attacked her. She’s the one that’s been mindfucking Kenley, gaslighting her for all these months.

  I grab her and pull her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. “You’re safe,” I tell her, stroking her hair. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. We can go get Gimple. Shannon. My dad. We can call the police or I’ll go find her and let her know what happens when someone fucks with my girl.”

  Her arms tighten around my waist and I rest my chin on her head.

  “I don’t know what I want to do.”

  “That’s fine, too. We can figure that out in the morning.”

  “Thank you.” She sniffs and peers around me. “How did you get a room to yourself?”

  “My dad paid extra. Well, really, my dad paid for most of the trip. They gave the chaperones their own rooms and tossed in an extra. He gave it to me.”

  “Where are the guys?”

  I nod to the door that connects to the adjacent room. “Next door. Do you want me to go get them?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Let them sleep. We can all deal with this in the morning.”