Kiss Now, Lie Later

by C. W. Farnsworth

  “I’ve got to get going, guys. My mom’s probably worried. Thanks for letting me crash, Josh.”

  “No problem, Cole,” Josh replies.

  “You’re around later, right?” Chris asks as I head towards the door.

  I pause. “Yeah, why?”

  “I’m planning a team meeting. To brainstorm on how to get back at Glenmont for the horseshoes prank. It’s perfect, now that we have another week. But we’ve got to give them enough time to clean up whatever we do, since they’re hosting Friday.”

  I chuckle. “Okay. Just let me know when, I’ll be there.”

  It only takes me a couple minutes to drive home from Josh’s. My dad’s car is missing from the driveway, but I spot my mom’s in the garage. I head in the back door, and she’s there. Waiting.

  “You missed your curfew by ten hours," she informs me.

  I sigh. “I know, I’m sorry. I crashed at Josh’s after the party, and I forgot to text you.”

  “Wes . . . ”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I mean it. It won't happen again.”

  She finally nods, then studies me a bit more closely. "Everything okay, Weston?”

  “Yeah, I just had a bad night,” I respond.

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay. This happens again, there will be consequences. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I affirm.

  “Too bad about the storm last night, but you played well.”

  “Thanks,” I reply as I head towards the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  The first thing I do when I get upstairs is pop a couple of painkillers, and then I step under the steaming hot spray. The vaporous mist helps soothe my pounding head. Back in my room, I pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then flop on my bed.

  I stand only a few minutes later, restless. I grab a sweatshirt from the hook on the back of my door and head downstairs, tugging it over my head as I do. I can hear my mom washing dishes in the kitchen as I tie my sneakers and head out the front door.

  The air outside is brisk, but the sunshine helps to temper the chill as I start to jog along the sidewalk. Usually I listen to music when I run, but there’s something cathartic about hearing nothing except the pound of my sneakers against the smooth pavement.

  I run for a long time. Longer than I intended to. Until my lungs are gasping for air and I’m drenched with enough sweat I’ll have to take another shower. I finally slow to a walk, resting my forearms across my head to open up my lungs. I feel better. My problems are all still there: Maeve, football, my parents, college, but I feel like I put some distance between myself and them. They’re not smothering me anymore.

  I halt on the sidewalk when I reach Emily’s house, and then start up her paved walk. I ring the doorbell, and her mother answers.

  “Oh, hello, Weston,” she greets, giving me a smile. “It’s lovely to see you. Such a disappointment about the game last night, but I have no doubt you’ll beat them whenever the game is rescheduled.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Jacobs,” I reply. It’s eerie, how happy and normal she appears the few times I’ve been to their house. According to Emily, it’s because her father is home on the weekends. “Is Emily here?”

  “Yes, she is," she replies. “One moment.” Mrs. Jacobs steps back from the open door, and I hear her call Emily’s name. Emily appears a couple minutes later.

  “Hey,” she greets, studying me curiously.

  “Hey,” I respond. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Emily steps outside of her house, closing the door behind her. I follow her over to the porch swing, and take a seat next to her.

  “I’m sorry. About last night. Kissing you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why am I apologizing?”

  Emily rolls her eyes. “Why did you kiss me, Weston? After making it very clear we were over.”

  “I was drunk, and I was having a bad day,” I admit to her.

  “I already knew both those things. You were crushing cans of beer like it was water, and the whole squad heard you barking orders on the field. There was something else going on. Is it your parents?”

  It would be easy. So, so easy to blame this on them. But I can’t.

  “No. I mean, they won't be there next week for the make-up, which sucks, but that’s not why I kissed you.” Emily doesn’t say anything, but she keeps looking at me expectantly. I cave. “I was trying to make another girl jealous. Or get revenge, maybe? I don’t know. I was in a bad place. Still am, to be honest.”

  Emily looks stunned. “You were trying to make another girl jealous? There’s a girl you like? Have actual feelings for?” Her voice grows more incredulous with each question.

  “Yup.”

  “Who is it?” Emily asks.

  “It doesn't matter. We’re over. Whatever was between us—well, it’s long gone.” I think.

  I can tell Emily wants to ask more questions, her eyes are brimming with them, but she doesn’t.

  “I’ve got to go, we've got a team meeting in a bit. I just wanted to clear the air. Make sure we’re still good.”

  Emily snorts. “I’m not pining over you, Weston. I mean, yeah, if you were interested I wouldn’t turn you down, but we’re good. I won’t be crying myself to sleep over your mystery girl.”

  I huff out a laugh and stand. “Okay. Bye, Emily.”

  “See you, Weston.”

  I turn and head back down her walk. After my talk with Emily, one problem is already close to catching back up to me. I can’t outrun Maeve Stevens forever.

  Probably because I don’t really want to.

  chapter twenty-one

  Maeve

  A throat clears behind me as I’m setting up cones before Monday morning’s captain practice. I stand up slowly, not sure what I want more. For it to be him, or it not to be him.

  I turn, and let out a deep breath. “What are you doing here?” I don’t let any emotion seep into my voice.

  Wes shifts his weight awkwardly back and forth between his feet. He’s wearing a black hoodie with his letterman jacket over it, and a pair of light gray joggers. There are dark circles underneath his blue eyes, and I hate how attractive he still is despite them.

  “I’m having trouble figuring out how you’re the one who’s mad at me,” he finally responds.

  “Oh, really?” I retort. “Let’s start with the girl you were kissing on Friday night.”

  “We were broken up.”

  “If you believed that you wouldn’t be here, Wes,” I reply sharply. “You made some assumptions, gave me no chance to explain, and then—”

  “I made some assumptions? They sent me a fucking photo of you kissing another guy! What other assumption is there to make, Maeve?”

  “I know it looked bad. I admitted it looked bad. That’s no excuse for why you shouldn’t have at least listened to me. My word should have meant more to you.”

  “So you’re admitting it happened and you’re mad I didn’t let you stick around so you could give me the play-by-play?”

  “God, you’re infuriating!” I shout. “And I’m so sick of you acting like you’re the only one taking any risks. You only moved here a few years ago! I’ve lived in Glenmont my entire life. Not only that, this is my family we’re talking about! Do you have any idea how Liam would feel if he found out about us? That—”

  “If you were so worried about people finding out about us and ruining your perfect reputation, then maybe you shouldn’t have shown up at Josh’s Friday night!” Wes yells back. “I had to spend the rest of the night listening to people gossip about you. I almost punched my own fucking teammate because he made a comment about how'd he like to—”

  “I hope you let him know you already beat him to it,” I snap.

  Wes looks stricken. “No—Maeve, I would never—”

  “Awful lot of rumors about your sex life for that to be true,” I retort.

  Anger returns to Wes’s f
ace again. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Well, you promised you didn’t want to touch another girl and that obviously changed, so . . . ”

  “I was fucking hurt, Maeve!”

  “Oh, if you were hurt . . . well, that’s okay then,” I reply sarcastically.

  “I didn’t handle it well, okay? I know that.”

  “You didn’t handle it well? Is that what your mom did?”

  Wes’s face darkens. “Don’t you dare bring my parents into this, Maeve.”

  “Seems relevant to me. They’re why you’re acting like this, right?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure Matt Crawford having his tongue down your throat would bother me even if I was from a perfect family like yours.”

  “My family isn’t perfect, and you know that. But you’re responsible for your own actions, and I thought you were better than cheating on me right in front of me.”

  “We were broken up!” Wes shouts.

  “Then why are you here?” I yell back. “What are you doing here, Wes?”

  The anger recedes, replaced with vulnerability. “I don’t know,” he admits.

  “Well, go figure it out somewhere else. I have practice, and I don’t want anyone to see you.”

  I spin around, only to see most of my teammates are already assembled on the bleachers, staring at us.

  “Shit,” I swear under my breath. I walk reluctantly over to the metal risers. “Morning!” I say in the most cheerful voice I can muster. “Usual warm-up, and then I’ll explain the first drill.” My teammates scramble off the bleachers to head towards the running path. Either my voice was more commanding than chipper, or they’re that eager to gossip about what they just witnessed. Probably both.

  Becca lingers behind, just like I knew she would.

  “That was Weston Cole,” she states.

  “Yes.”

  “Weston Cole was at Glenmont High, yelling at you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You were yelling back at him.”

  “Yes.”

  “So Weston Cole is the owner of the superior abs you were talking about?” Becca asks.

  I’m caught off guard she makes the leap so quickly, so it takes me a moment to remember what she’s referring to. “Uh, yeah. He is.”

  “I’m sorry, Maeve.”

  “It’s fine. I was stupid to think we’d ever be anything more than enemies.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Or brave.” Becca starts after the rest of the team before I have a chance to respond.

  Throughout the day, I catch about a dozen random stares. I’m not surprised. We’re far from the only team with early practices, and I doubt Wes managed to arrive and leave Glenmont High without being seen. Alleghany’s quarterback doesn’t pay social calls in Glenmont.

  And I don’t know what his visit means. He was still plenty angry, but he came. Because he has regrets? Because he needs closure? The only thing I know about his visit is it means I need to have a conversation with my brother. And it’s one I’m dreading.

  After my second soccer practice of the day ends, I head straight home. I shower first, and then eat my dinner alone in the kitchen. Everyone else has already eaten, and my parents are out at a friend’s. I eat each piece of fettuccine individually, trying to avoid the inevitable.

  Finally, I drag my fuzzy sock-clad feet up the stairs.

  “Hey.” I knock on Liam’s half-open door. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” He stops scrolling through his phone and sits up on his bed.

  I take a seat backwards on his desk chair. “I know we haven’t really talked since Friday. I’m sorry the game got postponed. Hopefully this week’s goes better.”

  “Thanks, but I doubt it will.” Liam heaves out a long sigh. “They’re better than us. He’s better than me. One thunderstorm isn’t going to change that.”

  He flops back on his bed. “Eagles can’t manage to string a decent team together for years. The four I’m eligible to play . . . Weston fucking Cole moves to town.”

  I clear my throat awkwardly.

  “Sorry, I’ll stop complaining. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and Cole will still be in a shitty mood next Friday. He wasn’t doing himself any favors terrorizing his receivers. Wish I knew what set him off so I could replicate it.” Liam lets out a slight laugh.

  I close my eyes. I’ve imagined having to say this a lot of times. The reality is worse.

  “Maeve?”

  “I have feelings for him,” I blurt. “For Weston Cole.”

  Liam bursts out laughing. The hysterical sound fades slowly when he realizes I’m not sharing his amusement. Eventually, even the grin slides off his face.

  I wait for him to yell, but that’s never been Liam’s style. He’s thoughtful, strategic, measured. The rare exception has usually been when it comes to Weston Cole, however.

  “You’re not kidding.” Liam states. His statement drips with disbelief. It’s not a question, but I shake my head anyway. “Weston fucking Cole, Maeve? Half the guys at school have crushes on you and you decide to lust after Weston fucking Cole? The guy who’s made me look like a fool for years. Who has ruined my high school football career. The Alleghany quarterback?”

  I nod hesitantly, disregarding the ‘half the guys’ comment. Liam stands up and starts to pace. “Liam, I never wante—”

  He cuts me off. “Evan mentioned someone from Alleghany posted you were at their party on Friday and called Cole a coward? I figured it was bullshit, some other blonde girl he pissed off, but it wasn’t, was it?”

  I shake my head. Stupidly, I hadn’t even considered people from Glenmont might hear I went to the Alleghany party on Friday. Freaking social media. I wonder how Alleghany and Glenmont students spied on each other back in my father’s day. Intercepted telegrams? Landline taps?

  “Why did you call him a coward?” Liam asks.

  I sigh and look over at his bookshelf. “He was kissing another girl.” The admission stings, like I’m reliving it just by saying the words. I can still picture the vengeful glint in his blue eyes.

  Liam snorts. “Typical. You dodged a bullet, Maeve. Which I should not have to tell you.” He shakes his head. “He’s shameless. What? Did he flirt with you and then kiss this other girl when he realized who you are?”

  The insinuation stings. That I’m a fool who would fall for a few cheap lines and lose my cool over a failed fling.

  “No, he thinks I cheated on him.” I state emotionlessly. “With Matt. He kissed me at the field during the horseshoes prank, and it was in the photo Sam sent them.”

  “I know he did. He’s been sulking about your rejection for days. You could have let the guy down a little easier, Maeve.”

  “A heads up from you would have been nice,” I reply.

  “I didn’t want to get involved. I just told him I didn’t have a problem with him asking you out.” He pauses. “You said cheated? As in, you were actually in a relationship?”

  “Yes,” I confirm. We’ve already passed the point of no return.

  “With Weston Cole?” I think it’s the first time outside our mother’s presence I’ve ever heard Liam say his full name without the profanity.

  “Yes,” I repeat.

  Liam finally stops pacing and sits back down on his bed. “Wow. I never—I mean he doesn’t seem like the type to commit.”

  “Based on what? His football stats? You don’t even know him!” I contend.

  Liam’s eyes are wide as he takes in my defensive tone. “And you do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” My words ring with conviction.

  “How long were you two . . . uh, involved?”

  I sigh, knowing Liam will see this as a further betrayal. “Since June,” I admit.

  “Six months! Are you kidding me, Maeve?”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Liam. I didn’t mean for things to get so . . . complicated. But it’s over now. I just needed you to know the truth.”

  “It’s over because Cole thinks you cheated on him wi
th Matt?”

  I nod.

  “And that’s why the whole Alleghany line was going after him on Friday?”

  “Probably. I’m not exactly on speaking terms with their quarterback at the moment.”

  “Wait,” my brother finally sheds the shock and begins to look excited. “At the moment? But you have been for the last six months?”

  “Yes . . . ” I reply cautiously, wary of his shift in tone.

  “And Cole told you stuff? About his team? About their strategy?” I realize why my brother is suddenly so eager. He thinks I’m a woman scorned. He thinks I’ll turn on Wes.

  I stand. “That. That right there is why you don’t know him. Because ever since I first talked to him freshman year, he’s never once asked me the same questions about you.”

  Liam looks at me as though I’m naive, hapless. “Because he doesn’t have to, Maeve. He's beaten us every year.”

  “But that’s how you want to win? With intel I got when I was in the backseat of his car?”

  Liam looks horrified. “Maeve, don’t tell me shit like that.”

  I almost want to laugh. “I’m not telling you anything. You’re both more important to me than the stupid sport you play.”

  I start to walk towards the door.

  “So, what are you going to do now? If he realizes you didn’t cheat? You’re going to actually date him? An Eagle?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” The one thing you knew I couldn’t forgive.

  “Then why did you tell me, Maeve?”

  “He came to practice this morning, and people probably saw. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

  chapter twenty-two

  Weston

  “Heard you crashed a Glenmont girls soccer practice,” Chris says as he drops down into the seat across from me in the Alleghany High library.

  I flip a page in the book I’m pretending to read. “For two towns that claim not to talk to each other, information seems to pass back and forth between them pretty fucking quickly.”

  “You’re hardly in a position to judge. From what I’ve heard, you’ve done a lot more than just talk to someone from Glenmont.”