The Best Lies

by Sarah Lyu

  I turned my head to look up at Elise.

  “Fuck boys,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Fuck boys,” I agreed.

  “Come on,” she said, sitting up. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “I know just what you need.”

  7.

  When we pulled into her driveway, I gawked at the house.

  “You live in the Pink Mansion?” I said, still staring as we pulled to a stop.

  “What?”

  “The Pink Mansion. This was on my bus route to middle school and that’s what we called it. I didn’t know if anyone lived there, though we’d see gardeners once in a while.” It was one of the last remaining estates in the area, the rest all carved up into gated subdivisions or remade into lush golf courses.

  We went in and climbed all the way up to the attic. The house was dark and a little too quiet. The pink, soft in daylight, took on an almost sickly mauve. The grounds looked a little neglected, grass unmowed and weeds in the flowerbeds.

  “My dad’s at his girlfriend’s house,” Elise said by way of explanation, not saying anything else, just shrugging and turning away like she didn’t want to talk about it. I wondered about her mom, where she was.

  Elise walked around the attic through the clutter of boxes, ducking her head under low beams. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  I followed her around, sneezing from the dust, touching the odd Christmas ornament or picture frame.

  “Who is this?” I asked, picking one up, wiping away a layer of grime from the glass. A black-and-white photo yellowed with age, it looked like a stock picture sold with frames, a happy family of three: mom and dad smiling down at a young girl with blond curls.

  “Probably my mom and her parents.” She didn’t even glance over.

  I examined the attic more closely. “When did you move here?”

  “A few weeks ago, why?”

  All the boxes were covered in dust and looked like they hadn’t been disturbed in ages. The house as a whole didn’t look like a family had just moved in. All the old boxes in the attic, all the nice furniture, perfectly placed like someone had been living there for years, not weeks.

  “This was my grandparents’ house,” she explained after noticing my confusion. “My mom’s gone, so it went to me when my grandmother died.” It took a moment for that to sink in.

  “Oh.” I set the photo down. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Anyway. My grandfather loved fireworks. I know they’ve got to be here somewhere.”

  “Okay.” I was still unsure of what she was planning, but it didn’t bother me as long as I was with her. I helped her look through boxes, but eventually I got tired and sat on a box in my homecoming dress.

  “Jackpot,” Elise said, lifting up a string of firecrackers.

  • • •

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I said when we were about to get on the highway. My palms began to sweat, my heart beat faster at the thought of seeing Cameron again. I wanted to go home.

  “It’ll be cathartic,” Elise said.

  “I don’t know.”

  She sped up on the highway. “Look, we can turn around, I can take the next exit and we can just go home. But is that what you really want? This guy made it all about him for—how long were you together?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “A whole year! And then he just dumps you like that, at homecoming, and doesn’t even offer to drive you home?” She began to wave an arm around as her voice rose. “Are you just going to, what, crawl into bed and call it a night? Curl up and cry yourself to sleep, all over some asshole?”

  “No?”

  “Or, are you going to do something about it? Do something you never thought you could do? Do something he would never think you could do? Something no one could imagine you doing?” She was breathless in her rage.

  “Okay,” I said after a moment. “Let’s do it.”

  I directed her to his dorm and we parked in a loading zone. I’d been there with Cameron weeks ago, boxes of his things in the trunk of my car. I had kissed him goodbye, not wanting to let go.

  “Ready?” Elise gestured grandly all around us at the buildings, the trees, the skies, twirling on the ball of one foot like a ballerina. She wasn’t just magical. She was magic itself and I was completely under her spell.

  “Okay.”

  “It’s going to be loud,” Elise whispered. “But don’t get scared. They’re asleep. And they’re going to be confused and they’re going to want to climb down from their bunk beds and come outside to see what’s going on. We’ll be long gone before they even think about calling the police.” I nodded and we split up. I tied the firecrackers to one of the security bars and stood under them almost in a daze. I remember my racing heart, the matches slipping from my hands.

  The firecrackers were supposed to go first, waking everyone before the show, but when I looked up, Elise was already heading toward me, which meant the fireworks were lit. I heard the first one shoot up into the sky, staring as it exploded, mesmerized at the pop, pop, pop.

  It was loud enough to wake the entire building and all the buildings within five blocks.

  “What are you doing?” Elise gripped my arm. She pulled out her lighter, struggled to get a flame, shook it. I’d never done anything like this before—getting payback. This was the kind of thing Cameron couldn’t imagine I’d be capable of doing.

  Never think I could do.

  The third rocket whistled its ascent before bursting in the sky. “Wait,” I said, taking the lighter from her and flipping it shut. Windows of the dorms closest to us shot the trees with slants of light, but Cameron’s room was still dark.

  “What are you doing?” Elise asked again. “We have to go.” I knelt to the ground, fingers running across a single match. It was all I needed. I struck a weak flame and touched it to the fuse long enough for it to catch, burning my fingertips.

  “Okay, let’s go.” We ran into the trees for cover but I stopped, turning back to see Cameron’s window light up, to see the shock on his face as the firecrackers burst with the sound of gunfire.

  • • •

  That was the first prank. The beginning.

  We laughed and whooped on the drive back and I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time, maybe ever. Looking over at Elise, her long hair whipping around in the wind, I remember thinking that this was the start of an adventure, the beginning of the rest of my life.

  We were a forest fire, wild and full of rage. We were a galaxy unto ourselves, a million stars blazing bright.

  Everything was possible then.

  MONDAY // AUGUST 28 // DAY 353

  8.

  Sitting in the car outside the police station, Vera and I rehearse what I’m going to say one last time. It’s morning and I haven’t gotten any sleep. After Vera drove me back to the house, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and alternated between sobbing until I couldn’t breathe and feeling completely numb, my mind wiped blank.

  As Vera speaks, I stare out of the window, not really listening. I catch my face in the side mirror and I look awful, my eyes swollen and bloodshot, my skin splotchy and raw, my hair rough like straw from repeated washings. It’s definitely been at least forty-eight hours since I last slept. My heart spasms wildly in my chest, pumping desperately, and I feel like I might faint.

  “Here.” Vera hands me a small cup of coffee.

  I take a sip and let the hot bitterness hit my tongue. Jack loved coffee, drank it black by the gallon, called it his only vice. Fancy coffee shops, McDonald’s, Starbucks, gas stations, it didn’t matter as long as it was dark and hot.

  “Remy?” Vera yanks me back. “Remember, keep it simple. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour, two tops. Just tell them what happened and stick to simple yes and no answers when they ask questions.” Her voice sounds so far away, an echo of an echo of an echo. “Remy?”

  “Hmm?” I say.

  “Let’s go ove
r it one more time.” We’ve been through this. Last night, and again an hour ago this morning.

  My mind strays, unable to focus. I wonder where Elise is. I wonder where they took Jack’s body, if his aunt and uncle have seen him, if his mother’s landed yet. Oh God, I think, covering my eyes and pressing them closed. And Evan, Jack’s cousin. Lola, his dog. More tears burn their way out of me, salt to the wound.

  Doubt cuts through me and I close my eyes, trying to call the memories back. They dance before me, disjointed and unfocused once again. I am so tired and the coffee has only made me more jittery. I think about the night and the memory has a strange finish to it. Surreal, like I’m seeing myself from afar, like I’m watching a movie.

  Me, sitting alone on the staircase, smothered in the silence of that big pink house. Jack coming through the door, saying, Maybe it’s better if I talk to her alone. Elise saying, Everything ’s going to be okay. Her voice distant, fuzzy. I squeeze my eyes shut. She says something else, but I can’t make it out, her voice warbled and distorted.

  And then finally, the gunshots, still ringing in my ear.

  “You said you were at the Pink Mansion and it was just you and Elise,” Vera supplies helpfully.

  I nod and swallow.

  “And you were arguing over something,” she continues. “What was it?”

  “I don’t remember. It was something stupid.” It’s what I said last night, but I still watch for her reaction, see if she believes me. If I tell the police that they were arguing about the pranks, they’ll find out all about them. I’m not trying to lie, but the truth is complicated and this is easier.

  “Okay, then what happened?” Vera asks.

  “Then I called Jack, and he came over. He said he’d talk to Elise alone. I went to my car and just as I was about to leave, I heard the gunshots.” Now I’m the one who sounds far away, like the words are coming through the car speakers and I’m trapped here and forced to listen to them.

  “Then?” she asks softly.

  “Then I ran into the house and—” I choke on a dry sob. “I saw Jack and he was—” Another sob shakes my whole body and I can’t keep it under control. “I called 9-1-1.”

  Vera hands me tissues and I wait for the tears to come but they don’t. Instead, I’m heaving from the sobs, the coffee burning its way back up.

  “Okay,” Vera says. “It’s going to be all right.”

  I ignore her and she leaves me alone. I stare out of the window as the sobs turn to hiccups. She parked in the far corner of the parking lot and all I can see are trees, their leaves moving with the wind. It’s strangely hypnotic, numbing.

  If I’d announced Jack’s presence—

  If I’d said goodbye to Elise first—

  If I’d stayed—

  Everything would be different.

  I remember the first night Jack and I met, back in April, when I got on his motorcycle, hugged him tight, my right cheek pressed between his shoulder blades. We’d gone to the lake, and after, we climbed a jungle gym in the park and stared at the stars. We smelled of earth and water, and he tangled our fingers together loosely. We were too big for the platform, had to lie with our knees bent like little pyramids, thighs resting against each other.

  “Do you think there’s anyone out there?” he asked me, eyes looking up.

  “Out there?” I said, lifting my free hand to point at the sky.

  “Sometimes it’s easy to forget how little we are here. Stuck on this tiny rock revolving around a small star, stranded in the middle of the Milky Way. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how big the universe is. How little it cares about the lives we live, how little any of it matters.” His voice held no sadness, only an awestruck reverence. His eyes shone even in the dark, the light of the stars reflecting back out to me. He was so beautiful.

  “Don’t say that,” I said, turning fully to face him. “Your life matters.”

  He turned too and smiled. We were only inches away from each other. I could feel his breath against my skin, warm and cool at the same time.

  “Can I?” he asked softly, and I loved the way his eyelashes fluttered, like he was nervous, like I might say no.

  “Yes,” I said, and then he pressed his lips softly against mine and stole the air out of my lungs.

  I don’t think I’ve been breathing right ever since.

  9.

  It’s cold inside of the station and I wrap my arms around myself tight. I pinch the sleeve buttons of my shirt around my wrists, running my thumb over and over them, popping one button in and out.

  “It won’t be long,” Vera tells me, and I know she wants to reassure me, keep me calm.

  My parents sit on the other side of her, Christian next to them. Our eyes meet briefly, and for a moment, I think I see real concern on his face, but I blink and he’s already turned away. Everyone is dressed up, everyone is quiet, exhausted but nervous. I keep looking at the door, waiting to see Evan or Jack’s mother show up.

  Or Elise.

  Or Jack himself, here to tell me it was just a nightmare and he was fine all along and that everything would be okay. Or that this was actually a prank gone too far and I was just too gullible.

  “Do you need to use the restroom?” Vera asks me. “Now’s the time.”

  With everyone’s eyes on me, I just want to disappear, but I can’t make myself move. Elise would never freeze up like this. She always knew what to do. Part of me longs for her to tell me how to feel, what to say. I need her, I need her.

  But the thought of seeing her again twists my stomach and I feel sick.

  “Remy?” Vera says, concerned.

  I shake my head, no, too afraid of what will happen if Elise is waiting for me in the restroom, what I’ll say if I see her now.

  The heel of my foot taps and taps the floor, faster and faster, matching my heartbeat. My hands are unsteady, fingers vibrating.

  Exhaustion and fear tighten their grip on me, but there’s something else too, right under the surface, and it takes everything I have to keep it there.

  I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.

  Jack’s really gone. One last time, I think. Just one more time, let me hold him in my arms. It’s all I ask, all I want.

  But even as I whisper the words in my mind, I know it’s a lie. If I had him in my arms again, I’d never, ever let go. As desperation claws at my throat, I shiver and shake—anything to keep a scream from escaping.

  Knowing what happened doesn’t help. Knowing it was an accident doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone and Elise is the one who took him from me.

  I glance at the front doors, then down the hall. I know she’s here somewhere. I can feel that invisible push and pull whenever she’s near, like she is a star and I am a captured object.

  If I had any sense of self-preservation I would cut the tether and leave her behind. I would follow the plan Vera has set out for me. Give my bare-bones statement. Tell my story in as few words as possible. Maintain my innocence and cooperate without giving them anything that could be used against me. Protect myself and only myself.

  “You don’t understand the trouble you’re in,” my mother said that morning before Vera arrived.

  “This is the rest of your life we’re talking about. Do you want to spend it in prison? Do you?” Dad said, but all I could think about was how I’d lost everything already. How I’d spend the rest of my life without Jack, without Elise. How impossible and lonely the future seemed.

  “Do you know what it’s like in prison? It isn’t summer camp.”

  “You have to remember: You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who pulled the trigger and you weren’t anywhere near them when it happened.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid out of some fucked-up sense of loyalty. You don’t owe her anything. You don’t owe anything to anyone but yourself.” They were wrong, they didn’t know. Some debts you can never repay. Some things you can spend your whole life making up for and it still won’t be enough.


  “And don’t trust whatever the police say. Don’t lie, but don’t give them anything they can use against you later, and you don’t know what that could be, so stick to short yes and no answers,” my dad finished.

  Maybe they’d watched too many police dramas, but my parents were relentless. They drove fear deep into my heart. Glancing at them now, I can see that they’re terrified too.

  And as much as I hate them, part of me knows I’m lucky to have people who worry about me, people who want to protect me.

  But Elise is alone. And probably even more terrified. She doesn’t have anyone to warn her about these things, to tell her what to do. To protect her.

  She has no one.

  Only me.

  You don’t owe her anything. But don’t I?

  It’d always been just the two of us from the moment we met. The night Elise collided into my life was the night the world burst ablaze with color. Cameron and all the boys before him were just distractions, someone to make me forget about my parents, my life. An escape.

  No one else could ever compare. With Elise, I didn’t need to forget. With Elise, I didn’t have to hide my wounds, because she had them too. Because we both needed love and discovered we could give it to each other. Together we reinvented our pasts and were reborn soulmates. Complete, whole.

  Elise takes the terrible things I’ve done, takes the ugliest parts of me, and loves me anyway. She always forgives me, no matter what.

  I don’t know if I deserve it.

  • • •

  My name is Remy.

  I am seventeen years old.

  This won’t last forever.

  It feels like I’m crumbling from the inside out, but I have to be strong, I have to hang on.

  What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger: Elise and I, we believed that, breathed it, lived by it. And I still believe—I have to believe—because there has to be meaning to all this pain and suffering.