Bitter Lies

by Nina Lincoln

  In Psych, I sit in our usual corner and avoid the world around me until Hogan sits beside me with a smile, and for the first time since this class began, Griffin doesn’t sit next to me.

  He doesn’t even glance in my direction, and though it’s for the best, my soul shrivels a little at the slight because even with his icy-cold demeanor, I’ve gotten used to having him beside me.

  It’s probably my fault since I’ve been playing musical chairs, but today I gravitated back to my usual spot only to be rebuffed.

  “Hey, Halsey,” Hogan says with a smile.

  “Hey,” I whisper, glancing up and meeting the curious gaze of my professor, another weirdness I can’t get used to.

  I spill my guts to him, and he gets to see my life play out outside the walls that are supposed to be safe and anonymous.

  Shifting in my seat, I tune back into Hogan as he says, “There’s a party next weekend at the Phi house. Wanna go with me?”

  “Um,” I say through dry lips. Do I? Should I?

  This is my chance to move on, but a party sounds like another dimension of hell, although I’ve slowly come out of my paranoid shell due to the shock immersion therapy in the guise of Griffin’s constant parties. Still, I don’t know Hogan all that well, but Griffin decides for me when he leans into the girl beside him and whispers in her ear.

  I can practically feel her pleased shiver from where I’m sitting because I know exactly how it feels to be the center of his attention, and with an awful clenching in my chest, I turn to Hogan and muster a smile. “Okay.”

  “Cool, I’ll message you about it later,” Hogan says as the lecture commences, and I stare blindly at our professor.

  We’re packing up after class when Dr. Marks says, “Halsey, can I speak to you, please?”

  All eyes turn my way curiously, and I shrink under the attention, studiously ignoring Griffin’s stare, which I can feel boring into the side of my skull.

  With a weak smile for Hogan, I trek down the steps and stop before the desk, where Dr. Marks stands behind it.

  “Halsey,” he says in a low tone as the other students exit behind us.

  “Yes?”

  “Is everything okay? Is he the boy you were speaking about earlier?”

  “Um, what? No,” I mutter, heat suffusing my cheeks.

  “Hm, okay, good. Remember what we spoke about? You need only positive influences around you right now.”

  “Yes, of course,” I whisper, turning away from his firm tone uncomfortably.

  Some part of me wants to tell him to back off, but he’s my counselor. Maybe he knows better than me? Perhaps calling me to the front of the class and reminding me of my words not two fucking hours ago is normal?

  Of course, Griffin is waiting for me and as soon as I exit, he takes my arm and pulls me outside. With his brows low over his eyes, dark with thunderclouds brewing, and his mouth a stern line, I prepare myself for whatever’s coming next.

  “What the fuck, Halsey? What’s going on?”

  “Oh, um, just something about my grades,” I mumble, and he drops my arm, looking me over with suspicion.

  Smiling tremulously, I walk away and leave him staring after me with a frown.

  ∞∞∞

  “Dinner,” Max says, and grunting, I drop the book I was staring at blankly.

  Tonight is taco night, I discover when I trail Max into the kitchen and fill my plate before sitting down tiredly opposite Max with Griffin between us.

  Absently, I chew the crunchy shell, lost to my thoughts, until Griffin says, “Halsey, why didn’t you tell me Dr. Marks is your therapist?”

  Dropping the taco to my plate, I mutter, “Because it’s none of your business.”

  “Please,” Max interjects, “Mom made it our business when she gave us your class schedule and insisted we eat fucking dinner together every night.”

  Glancing at him incredulously, I look to my plate and back to his grim face before moving to Griffin, who’s looking at me with a blank stare.

  Ignoring the sting of humiliation flooding through me like an acid fucking bath, I push back from the table abruptly and grab my plate, dropping it in the sink. My half-eaten taco slides into the drain and cracks down the middle.

  “Jesus, here we go again. Don’t be a bitch, Halsey.”

  At Max’s rude grunt, I drop my head, and lean against the counter searching for the girl who used to fucking stand up for herself and certainly didn’t need to be summoned to dinner every fucking night.

  “Whatever,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Neither of you give two fucks about whether I eat. And if you have to lie to Mom, then fucking lie because I’m not sitting down with you fuckers again.”

  “Ha!” Max sneers, “You’ll fucking sit down at this table every night if I have to fucking make you.”

  “Max.” My eyes fly to Griffin at his warning tone but he’s staring at Max.

  “No, bro. I’m tired of this shit. You wanna bang half the fucking town, do it, but don’t fucking play the sympathy card after. Do you even need the little pills they gave you? Or is that just a fucking front, too?”

  “For the last fucking time, I didn’t try to kill myself. And if you two complete assholes would stop being selfish dicks, maybe you’d see that this is no picnic for me either.”

  “Really?” Griffin says, dropping his fork. “We’ve been making you fucking dinner for weeks and fucking escorting you to class and shit. Who’s the real asshole here?”

  Grunting, I push away from the counter and snarl, “For the fucking record, you taking me to class isn’t going to keep me from offing myself if I wanted to! It’s not like I’m going to do it in class with the entire student body watching.”

  “Good,” he growls. “Then maybe we can trade fucking partners because I have no desire to see inside your sick head.”

  “Grr,” I mutter, stalking away, only to turn at the hallway and scream, “That’s fine! Because it was all fucking lies anyway.”

  I lock myself in my room once more and lean my head against the door, puffing hysterically under my breath.

  I can’t fucking breathe under the weight of the chains I’m bound with, and Mom only made it worse because now the fuckers have even more reason to hate me.

  Gah.

  ∞∞∞

  It’s Halloween. I haven’t seen more than a glimpse of Griffin since we argued, and Max is avoiding me, too. The only time I’m face-to-face with Griffin is during our Psych class, to which he’s taken to following me around the room because I’m so fucking angry I’m back to avoiding him like the plague. Finally, I gave up, and now I’m back in my original seat, where he avoids my gaze anyway and ices me out with his rigid demeanor.

  I just finished my last class for the week, Poli Sci 101, where I’m pretty sure I failed our test. I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to know what an ideology is? Gah.

  Glumly, I head back to the house, resigned to spending another evening alone when I spy Miranda outside the coffee shop chatting with a cute guy. Curiously, I wonder if she and Griffin are still dating because despite his nasty behavior that night, I’ve seen her around a few times, although they haven’t technically been together. That I know of, I think sourly.

  Griffin isn’t a one-girl kind of guy, which makes fucking him that much more insane, pun intended. Shit, I also should’ve insisted he use protection. Good thing I have an IUD, something I never considered until after the incident.

  Since I’m just that desperate for human interaction—score one for my mental health—I stop and greet her, acknowledging that my only quasi-friend is fucking my unrequited love. Could I be more pathetic?

  “Hey, Miranda.”

  She turns to me with surprise and gives me an uncomfortable smile before glancing back at the guy. Crinkling my brow, I back off at the distant expression before I realize this isn’t about me. I’m assuming she doesn’t want me to relay this interaction back to Griff.

  Since I fucked him not so long ago, I
think it’s only fair I ignore her flirting. Besides, Griffin doesn’t know the meaning of the word “exclusive.”

  I give her a small smile as she says goodbye to the guy and turns to grin at me sheepishly.

  “Sorry, I know Griff’s your friend. I don’t want to put you in a weird place.”

  Shrugging, I clear my throat and aim for casual. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Inexplicably, I feel bad for what I did with Griffin because it’s not cool to do to another chick, although I remind myself, she has to know he’s stepping out on her.

  “Thanks. I like Griff, I do, but he doesn’t seem all that invested,” she says, motioning for me to sit.

  Pulling out a chair, I collapse across from her and smile sadly. “Yeah.”

  I don’t know what to say because Griffin’s a free agent. He always has been, even with his bitch side piece in high school, to her dismay.

  “Anyway, enough about him. Are you going to any cool parties tonight?”

  Snorting, I shake my head no.

  “Why not?”

  “Miranda, other than my brother and Griffin, you’re the only person I really know,” I mutter.

  She cocks her head to the side, her pretty hair spilling over her shoulder. “You’ve been here for two months.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t play well with others,” I say dryly.

  Laughing, she smacks her hand on the table. “We’ll have to fix that. C’mon, we have a party to get to.”

  Smiling, I walk with her back to her dorm, surprised to find I actually like the bitch.

  ∞∞∞

  Three hours later, I’m sipping on a beer and glancing around the party uneasily. I know I can’t mix alcohol with my meds, but I figure one drink can’t hurt, and I need the liquid courage.

  Miranda loaned me a costume that completely transformed my appearance, which relaxes me a little. For whatever reason, going incognito feels freeing, as though my past’s dirty deeds fell away with the new persona.

  I’ve got on a tight black bodysuit that reveals every bony inch of my slight frame, and with it, I mourn the loss of my previously subtle curves. A short black wig hides my purple hair, and she applied fake lashes and makeup that transformed me into a wicked siren.

  Hell, she even found a pair of tinted contacts, and now instead of my deep blue eyes, I’m looking out of the world with a green hue.

  Shifting uncomfortably on the high heels that rounded out the outfit, I take another sip of my beer and try to drum up the courage to actually speak to someone. A guy would be preferable.

  “Hey there, man, you are fuck hot in that outfit. Who are you supposed to be?”

  Looking over my new conquest, I arch my brow and channel Miranda as I repeat the exact words she said to me when I asked the question earlier.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Fuck no! You need another drink?” he says with a wide smile, but my stomach sinks at that smile, recognizing a pretty boy when I see one.

  These types are used to getting what they want, and therefore no is anathema to them. Maybe I’m being unfair, and I shouldn’t judge every guy by my past experiences, but it’s hard not to do, considering the circumstances.

  Uninterested in the face of my morose thoughts, I turn away from my admirer with a chilly smile and spy none other than Jason.

  At the sight, my heart stops bitterly in my chest before beating once more as I watch him pass down the hall with a girl. They’re halfway fucking as he carries her, and I can’t resist following, walking away from the guy still talking to me midsentence, only to hesitate at the hallway as Jason disappears into a room with her. What’s he doing?

  Fuck. What if I do nothing and she gets hurt?

  My pulse picks up as I walk slowly down the hall and stare blindly at the partially closed door, memories assailing me painfully. My palms are sweaty and my knees weak as I take a deep breath and push the door open slowly, peering inside.

  Jason is standing with the unknown girl, nuzzling her cheek as she giggles below him. Easing back at the innocent interaction, I move to step out before a new idea forms.

  Why should he be able to walk through this world with immunity? Doesn’t he deserve to pay? Don’t they all?

  Glancing at Jason once more, I contemplate my opportunity, pushing the rage away before I go down a hole I won’t be able to pull myself out of.

  And with my mind made up, I step inside, my stomach curdling when Jason looks up with a glazed expression and smiles at me without recognition.

  Perfect, I tell myself, even though my hands are trembling at my sides.

  “Hey, am I interrupting?” I ask breathlessly, chewing on the tip of my finger naughtily.

  The act makes my skin crawl, but I’m not above it, not if it means showing the jerk what true torment feels like.

  Jason backs away from the chick, who glares at me heatedly, but I ignore her hostility, for I’m surely saving her from a worse fucking fate, and with a wicked smile, I run my finger down my chest and arch a brow.

  Come and get it, fucker.

  “Mm, where did you come from?” He rolls his r’s like he’s fucking Don Juan, and I cringe, that same tone spewing from his filthy lips not so long-ago sending waves of revulsion down my spine.

  Shaking it off, I stalk over to him and run my hands down his chest, looking into his dark eyes and vowing to make him fucking pay.

  “Maybe we could be alone?” I whisper, giving the girl a pointed look.

  Jason nods without glancing at her, to which she pouts before stalking away angrily, and without so much as a see you later, he confirms he is a fucking dick as he pulls me into his arms and nuzzles my shoulder.

  Rolling my eyes in the crook of his neck, I push him back a little and smile when he stumbles because it would appear he’s a wee bit drunk—even better.

  He steps to the bed and goes to take off his belt, and I wave my hand in his face, with a naughty smirk. “Uh-uh, let me.”

  “Fuck yes, baby, you gonna suck my cock?” he moans, his pupils blown as he drops his hands from his belt.

  “Oh yeah, I’m gonna suck you off and more, I promise,” I say with a feral smile.

  He frowns, and my heart stutters, but it drops away as I push him to the bed, and he falls back quickly, grabbing his dick through his pants as I straddle him.

  “Mm, maybe you should take this off.” He grabs at my outfit with a moan, but it’s so tight, thank fuck, he can’t get a hold of the material. Still, my skin boils at the touch of his fingers on my bare skin.

  Pushing his hands away, I whisper, “All in good time. Let me take care of you first.”

  His lidded eyes brighten, and he smiles as I wriggle over him like the dirty whore he wants me to be and pull his belt from the loops with a naughty smile. He bucks into me with a groan, and for a second, I’m stuck in my past, frozen as the sounds of his harsh grunts ring in my ear.

  And all I see is the same ugly expression he had on his face as he reared into me and ignored my pained pleas.

  Everything hurts. It hurts. Stop.

  But he doesn’t hear her, and she closes her eyes.

  “Hey, we doing this or what?” he asks, breaking me from my reverie.

  Focusing on his ugly fucking face, I smile wide and lean into him, whispering against his lips, “Do you like it rough?”

  “Oh, fuck yeah, baby,” he moans, arching into me again.

  Ignoring the icy waves of disgust battering at my soul, I pull the belt from the last of the loops and grab his wrist before wrapping the leather around it tightly.

  “What are you doing?” he mutters, and I smile.

  “Let me tie your hands, baby, and then I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

  “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says again, whistling under his breath.

  Fucking idiot.

  Wrapping his other hand in the belt, I pull it tight and string it through the bars of the headboard, securing it as best I can. It won’t hold for long, but
I don’t need much time because I’m trembling with so much rage it won’t be hard to cause damage.

  He pulls on the belt experimentally, looking at me through lidded eyes, and I smile wickedly, wrenching his pants below his ass.

  “Yeah, baby, you ready to ride my dick?”

  “Oh, I’m ready, alright,” I purr, standing and staring with disgust at his erection before raising my stiletto-clad foot and slamming it down on his junk.

  He screams and arches away, but I just follow, smashing him with the pointy-edged toe with a savage smile, my heart racing so rapidly I’m panting.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Crazy bitch!” His eyes are wide and wary as he pulls on the bed frame violently.

  His legs swing wildly, the entire bed shaking under his vehemence, and I tsk, muttering, “What’s the matter? Doesn’t it feel good?”

  “No, you crazy bitch!”

  “No?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “Well, too fucking bad because it feels good to me.”

  Slamming him with the heels once again, I drop from the bed and stroll away, stopping at the door as he swears behind me. My pulse is beating in my veins at a rapid tempo, and there’s a darkness lingering in my soul that tells me if I don’t leave now, I may not be able to stop.

  And it’s a scary fucking notion.

  “Was it good for you, baby?” I ask before exiting and closing the door behind me.

  Heading straight for the stairs, I avoid everyone as I race away, my entire body trembling with exhilaration even as disgust roils through me rapidly.

  Unfortunately, this doesn’t help with the feeling I have that I’m crawling out of my skin, and mindlessly I walk home, ditching the wig in a garbage can, before pulling out the contacts and tossing them away as I grab the heels off my feet.

  No clearer for the brisk walk, grimly I approach our house lit up like a fucking Christmas tree as every light shines and bass music pumps loudly from the open windows.

  Once through the door, I head straight to my room, itching everywhere as agony bleeds through my veins.

  I catch Griffin’s eyes as I pass to the hallway where he’s standing and talking to some bitch, and mindlessly my eyes pass over them both as I keep going, unable to see past the darkness lurking at the corners of my vision.