Things Liars Say

by Sara Ney

  Cal: I can’t like the fact that you don’t sleep around? And trust me, I don’t need to pressure anyone to sleep with me.

  Grey: You only like the fact I don’t sleep around because it would make you jealous if I did. Let’s be honest. ;)

  Cal: Are you a mind reader?

  Grey: See, I knew it. Okay. Now you have to answer the same question: How long has it been? Since.

  Cal: Uh, let me think… Honestly? Maybe 4 months?

  Grey: Ugh, maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

  Cal: Why?

  Grey: Because I would have felt much better if you would have said 2 years. LOL. Or lied and said you were a virgin.

  Cal: Sorry :( It was a one-night stand. I can’t even remember her name. Wait. Now I do. I think her name was—

  Grey: STOP! NO DETAILS! My ears will bleed.

  Cal: Or maybe her name was…

  Grey: Haha, very funny.

  Cal: I thought so.

  Cal: Have you crawled into bed for the night yet?

  Grey: Just. So snuggly. You?

  Cal: Yeah. Reading and not at all tired. But I miss your face.

  Grey: You miss my FACE? LOL. Oh my god, you’re so cute.

  Cal: Yup, that’s what they call me. Cute.

  Grey: Want to… Um. FaceTime?

  Cal: Yeah. Let’s do it.

  Grey: Well, THERE’S a loaded statement. *snickers*

  Cal: I think you might be a bigger pervert than I am.

  Grey: It’s a definite possibility…

  Calvin

  I lean back against the headboard of my queen-sized bed and pound my pillows to get more comfortable as my phone pings with an incoming FaceTime notification. Nervously, I wipe my clammy palms across my navy comforter before clicking ACCEPT.

  Greyson’s beautiful face stares back at me from the small screen. She’s lying down, blonde hair fanned out on a white pillow.

  “Hi.” She gives me a cute little wave, blonde tendrils brushing her cheeks, and she brushes them away, tucking them behind an ear.

  “I was beginning to forget what you look like,” I tease, eyes devouring her tan, bare shoulders and pink tank top.

  “Well, now you won’t.”

  “You know, I don’t really do…” I’m momentarily sidetracked by Grey slowly running her index finger along the thin band of her sleep top, adjusting the straps. My eyes are drawn to her lips, then her long, mussed hair. Is she trying to drive me to distraction on purpose?

  Her voice interrupts my salivating. “Don’t really do what?”

  “Huh?”

  Her light, lilt-y chuckle fills my room. “What don’t you really do?”

  “What was I gonna say?” I ask. She shrugs, biting her lower lip. I narrow my eyes. “Knock that cutesy shit off.”

  “I’m not doing anything!” she shouts with a laugh.

  “Stop being irresistible. It’s rude.”

  She rolls her sparkling eyes. “You think everything is rude. And why is that?”

  “Because I’m here and you’re not,” I blurt out. “I meant that it’s rude you’re being cute when I can’t touch you. Shit. I didn’t mean that if you were here, you’d want me to touch you. Or even want us to be together.”

  Why am I still talking? Shit.

  “Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t.” Greyson lowers her phone so it’s hovering just above her face, giving me an extreme close-up. She wiggles her brows. “Are you a cuddler, Calvin,” she whispers into the screen.

  “Uh, no.” Her bottom lip juts out in a mock pout. “Yes. Yes I am.”

  She studies me through the camera on her phone, hazel eyes seemingly raking the planes of my face. “I wish I could touch you. I love your face.”

  Fuck it. I’m going for broke. “Not as much as I love your face,” I announce in a lovey-dovey tone of voice. Seriously, what the hell has gotten into me?

  I glance over at my door and make sure it’s locked. I so do not need anyone busting in here right now.

  “Wanna bet?” Grey teases. She’s gazing back at me with doe eyes and an adoring smile, and it’s fucking killing me that she’s so far away. Well, theoretically speaking, of course. Realistically, it’s less than an hour.

  “Sweetheart, don’t mess with the bull or you’ll get the horns,” I throw out lamely, trying to be clever but sounding like a complete horse’s ass instead. I hold back a whiney groan.

  “Horns? That sounds exciting.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Are we flirting?” I ask, to be sure.

  “You’re hopeless.” Greyson laughs. “I don’t know about you, but I certainly am.” She lolls her head on her pillow and bats her lashes at me through her phone. “You could step it up a notch. You’re a little rusty.”

  “Well, to be honest, I don’t usually bother.”

  “So, what is it you usually do?”

  “Nothing. I do nothing.”

  Her pert little nose wrinkles in thought. “Alright, but what if you’re trying to… you know.”

  “Get someone to sleep with me?”

  She nods, and I let out a deep bark of laughter. Greyson’s blonde hair billows out around her head, and she looks like an angel.

  “What, like it’s hard?” I clear my throat before continuing. “Well. Okay, honestly? Ugh, how do I put this?” I scratch my head. “Girls are easy, okay? All we have to do is show up to a party, and…” I pause for a second. “Yada, yada, yada.”

  Grey gasps back a surprised laugh, dropping the phone and rolling over on her bed. The phone falls on the bed, camera facing the ceiling—I can’t see her, but I can hear her wheezing, “Yada, yada, yada? God, Cal… That was priceless… I love it…”

  I wait her out. When she’s finally done giggling, she sits up, propping herself up against her headboard, and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

  “It’s good seeing your face,” she says quietly. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  I feel my expression soften, and I think my goddamn heart just fluttered in my chest. God, I’ve turned in to a sap.

  “It’s because we’re not, you know—a thing.” Why is that so painful to say? Why would I say that? Get a grip, dude.

  “I know,” she says softly. Sadly.

  We regard each other silently then, the mood changing from carefree and teasing to serious. Greyson’s hazel eyes question me from the small screen on my phone. She tucks her hair behind her ears, almost self-consciously, and we both smile stupidly.

  I take a deep breath, gathering up my courage. “Greyson, I—”

  Someone bangs on my bedroom door, and just like that, the spell is broken. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Shit. I should…”

  “You should…

  “Get that,” we both say.

  “Talk to you later?” Grey asks into the camera.

  Yes. Later.

  “Night, Grey.”

  “Night, Calvin.” The quiet, gentle way she says my name, and how she’s watching me as I end the call, has me awake all night.

  Cal: Morning, sunshine.

  Grey: :)

  Cal: I think my roommates were on to me last night. I think they knew it was you.

  Grey: How so?

  Cal: Must have looked guilty after FaceTiming when I opened the door. They heard your voice on speaker phone but were convinced I had a girl in my room. What pains in my ass.

  Grey: Note to self—if I’m ever in your in your room, hide in closet?

  Cal: Like I’d ever want to hide YOU.

  Grey: You are so perfect. Adorable.

  Cal: Well, you’re gorgeous. Does that make us even?

  Grey: I swear, I want to smush you.

  Cal: Smush me? God, I hope that’s not all?

  Grey: Well… no.

  Cal: Shit, we have to stop this. I’m about to walk into a team meeting. I can’t be all freaking smiley. I’ll get sacked in the nuts.

  Grey: You are such a prude.

  Cal: Me, a prude? Hardly. Your pl
ans today?

  Grey: Meeting with the sisters on my committee to put together donation baskets at the sorority house. It will probably take most of the afternoon. How bout you?

  Cal: You know, if you weren’t busy, I would—

  Grey: ???

  Cal: I would have come to see you?

  Grey: I would have loved that if I wasn’t so busy today…

  Cal: Me too.

  Grey: Sigh.

  Cal: Sleepy?

  Grey: The sleepiest. I’m glad you texted me though. FINALLY! Why didn’t you text me this afternoon? I checked my phone so many times during our meeting that Jemma snatched it away.

  Cal: I knew you were busy. Didn’t want to bother you.

  Grey: You’re the highlight of my day, Calvin. You can text me any time you want *blushes*

  Cal: Ditto, babe.

  Greyson

  To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

  From: grevkeller0143@state.edu

  Subject: You are cordially invited…

  Dear Calvin,

  As you know, the Theta Rho Theta Gala, which I’ve worked so hard to plan, is right around the corner. Two weeks away, actually. Friday the 9th, 6:00 pm at the Crown Hotel ballroom. I’ve given this a tremendous amount of thought, and I know it’s a lot to ask, but the thing is. The thing is, Cal, there is absolutely no one I would rather go with than you. I’m asking you to stand by my side, as my date. Nothing would make me prouder than walking in on your arm. Yours, Greyson

  I stare at the message, my finger hovering about the SEND button, before I take a deep breath and push down.

  Calvin

  I’m asking you to stand by my side, as my date. Nothing would make me prouder than walking in on your arm.

  Yours, Greyson.

  Yours.

  Surely she didn’t mean it like that.

  But what if she did?

  Shit. I stare at that signature line for what seems like an eternity, reading and rereading her message at least five times before closing out the email app and tapping open my calendar.

  And there it is: Friday the 9th. SMU vs. UCONN

  It’s a huge game for us. Top three match of the entire season, and our season has only just begun. If I miss it, I could very well kiss my Captain’s position goodbye, along with my starting position, and say hello to being a second-string bench warmer.

  I close the calendar with a curse, and I let my head fall against my bedroom wall with a loud thud.

  “Goddammit.”

  Greyson

  “I did something stupid,” I say to Melody as she putters around our kitchen, prepping her beloved macaroni and cheese. My arms are braced on the small round table near the stove, and she gives me a quick glance as she measures out milk in a measuring cup.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I invited Cal to the Gala, and he hasn’t responded to my message.”

  “How long ago did you send it?”

  “Um, two days ago?”

  “So?”

  “So, we’ve been texting and emailing every day for a while.”

  Melody looks over at me in surprise. “Like every day?”

  “Pretty much. All day, every day,” I clarify with a nod.

  “Wow, how did I not know this? Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks, ripping open the bag of powdered cheese and tapping it into the pot of noodles.

  I shrug. “No reason. Maybe I got carried away with the idea of him. We’ve been talking for weeks, Mel. Weeks. He and I…”

  When I look up, she’s staring expectantly but says nothing.

  “I’m not going to put a label on what I feel for him, but my feelings are real. And they’re strong.”

  That’s a lie. I know what to label my feelings for Cal, and those feelings go well beyond strong.

  My roommate taps the wooden spoon on the side of the metal pot, sets it on the stovetop away from the burner, and walks over, enveloping me from behind in her arms. “I’m sorry, then, Grey. Sorry that he hasn’t gotten back to you. Why don’t you send him another note?”

  Her chin is resting on my shoulder, and I raise my arm to pat her on the head.

  Melody clears her throat. “Alright. Would… would it make you feel better if I sent Mason a note to find out what was going on with him?” she asks bashfully, as if embarrassed to be confessing a secret. “We’ve kind of been talking. Jemma gave him my digits.”

  I want to tell her no, but that would be a lie. Another one.

  “Could you?”

  She squeezes my shoulders. “Sure. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  Melody: Heard back from Mason. The guys have a match on Friday the 9th and it’s a BIG one. I’ll forward you his message.

  Melody: [FWD: Mason Gille] Hey hot stuff. All I can tell you is that Cal’s been a real asshole for the past few days. Bitchier than usual. We have a game the same night as your thing and it’s a big one. No way would he miss it. Sorry bae.

  Melody:  I’m so sorry, Grey. Do you want me to ask Brandon Bauer if any of the Tau Kaps would be your date?

  Grey: No thanks. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Love you for thinking of me though xxx

  To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

  From: grevkeller0143@state.edu

  Subject: Put me out of my misery

  Cal,

  It’s been a few days since my last email, and I’m just writing to tell you that I know you have a match that night. The 9th. I obviously didn’t know about it when I asked you to be my date, so I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you by asking. I feel horrible. But why haven’t you emailed me back? Why haven’t you texted me? It’s making me feel really shitty. I thought we were friends, and I thought… Never mind what I thought. Just send me a note back. Because I’m bossy and I say so. And because I miss you so much. Yours, Grey

  Cal: You know what?

  Cal: Fuck it. I’m coming.

  Cal: What time should I pick you up?

  To: grevkeller0143@state.edu

  From: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

  Subject: Douchebaggery

  Grey. I don’t think you can begin to comprehend the level to which I’m getting harassed over here for missing this match to come to a dance. Some bastard put tampons in my locker yesterday, and today the ugliest prom dress was hanging from the wakeboard rack on top of my truck, blowing in the wind like a flag. - Cal

  To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

  From: grevkeller0143@state.edu

  Subject: Squeals of delight.

  Calvin,

  Oh no! That sounds… hilarious, actually. But don’t mind me. I’m just delirious with excitement that you’re coming. I would love to have seen your face when you opened your locker to tampons. What brand are they? I’d hate to waste a new box. KIDDING. Kidding. Sort of.

  I’m not even going to pretend I’m not happy dancing my way around the house. I’m not going to send you “Oh, Cal! You HAVE to go to your game! Don’t miss it on my account!” notes. Because the truth is, when you texted that you were escorting me to the gala, I squealed so loud Melody burst into my room with a baseball bat. She thought I was being attacked. So, I CANNOT WAIT to see you. I can’t wait for you to see my dress. I can’t wait to dance with you. And I guess I should mention now that the evening is going to run really, really late. I know SMU is only an hour away, but… Greyson

  Cal: Why, Miss Keller, are you propositioning me for an overnight?

  Grey: Hmmm. Am I? I just meant I know you’ll be tired. I have to stay afterwards with my committee and remove some of the sorority insignia and stuff. The hotel staff will do the rest, but there will be a short lag before I can leave.

  Cal: This is at a fancy hotel, right?

  Grey: Yup. The Crown Hotel. It’s 5 stars.

  Cal: Wouldn’t it just be easier to book a room?

  Grey: Well, yes, but…

  Cal: Let me take care of it.

  Greyson

  I have a thousand things to do but can only focus on one th
ing: Cal. Cal, who’s skipping his game for me and is surely going to pay the consequences. Cal, who’s driving an hour out of his way to be with me. Cal, who calls me sweetheart.

  Four times in fact.

  I counted.

  Sigh.

  I scoured online for hours to find this, the perfect dress, and as I stand in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting the invisible neckline with trembling fingers, I stare, trying to imagine how Cal will feel when he first sees me in it.

  I didn’t just choose the dress with him in mind; I chose it for him.

  Flesh-colored netting hugs my shoulders so they appear bare, while an intricate white lace overlay creates a cap sleeve and bodice. White embroidered flowers cover the tapered waist, the skirt flaring in a bell at my hips. The dress is both ridiculously sexy and modest at the same time. Rhinestone stud earrings complete the elaborately elegant ensemble.

  I run a hand over my hair. The intricately loose fish braid is nestled in a cascade of loose hair and adorned with a vintage white floweret clip. I sat patiently in a salon chair two hours, and the outcome is messy and complex and exquisite.

  I love it.

  My minimal eye makeup was expertly applied. Dramatic false eyelashes, the darkest mascara, nude shadow. Flushed skin. Bright plum matte lips that are a contrast to my white dress and blonde hair.

  I take a deep breath, running a hand over my nervous stomach.

  “Whoa! I mean—wow! Seriously, Grey, you look freaking amazing!” Melody floats into the room, her soft pink gown drifting airily around her tall frame. “You look like Blake Lively on the red carpet. Holy wow. Just stunning.”

  “Me? Look at you! Let me see the back,” I say, twirling her around to peek at the back of her dress. Or lack of it. “Seriously, Mel, Sam is going to crap himself.”