This Is Why We Lie

by Gabriella Lepore

  Suddenly, being alone with her makes me aware of the distance the past few months has brought between us. It’s as if I don’t know what to say to her anymore. All the things we used to talk about, like last night’s episode of whatever show we’re binging or who said what at lunch, just don’t seem important any more. I don’t know what she’s binge watching. I don’t know what’s going on in her life, period.

  I wait a moment before I ask, “Were you texting?”

  She throws me a quick glance. “Huh?”

  “During the service. You were on your phone.”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Who were you texting?”

  “Just Max. Something in that poem made me think of him.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She reaches down to the cup holder and checks her cell. “He hasn’t responded yet. But he will. Sometimes it takes him a while to check his messages.”

  We fall silent.

  “How are things going with Max?” I ask as we cruise along the suburban street.

  “Good. Really good. Can you believe it’s been six months?” She glances at me again as she drives, probably waiting for me to show my amazement.

  “Wow.” I muster a smile. “It’s pretty serious, huh?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  She taps her scarlet fingernails on the steering wheel. “I mean, I know we had that fight a little while back, but we’re over that now.” Her nose twitches.

  Of course I know the fight she’s referring to. Max showed up at Preston right before summer break, and they had a heated argument in the middle of the parking lot. That night, Serena deleted all his photos from her social media pages and announced that she was “done.”

  Although Hollie and I watched the fight from the sidelines, we couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about. And Serena certainly wasn’t telling. As near as I could figure, it seemed like Max had been flirting with other girls and Serena had busted him. She was crying, screaming, the works. I thought then that Max seemed like a jerk. He smirked and charmed his way out of it—eventually. It’s no wonder Serena forgave him, he has the whole rebel-without-a-cause thing down to a fine art.

  They were back together by the following week, and their lovey-dovey pictures gradually started to reappear.

  “So, things are good now?” I ask.

  “Better than good. I’m in love.” She hesitates and chews her thumbnail. “Sure, he has his moments, but who doesn’t, right?”

  I frown. “He has his moments? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Just, Max is kind of complicated.”

  “Complicated, how?”

  “I don’t know. His past was pretty messed up, and I think that makes him act a little volatile sometimes, y’know?” Her eyes dart to me. “Don’t go broadcasting this, but he had a seriously effed-up childhood. Like, his dad’s in prison and stuff.”

  “Oh.” I don’t know why I’m taken aback by this. It’s no secret that the Rooks all have a past. Hence why they’ve ended up at Rookwood. They’re not pampered and privileged like the Preston girls.

  “So, sometimes,” Serena carries on, “Max screws up. Sometimes. But doesn’t everyone?”

  I’m glad her attention is on the approaching stoplight because otherwise she’ll see the dubious expression that I know is on my face. Sure, I feel bad for Max if his life has been tough, but that doesn’t give him a free pass to treat his girlfriend like crap. To treat anyone like crap.

  “Hey,” she says as we roll to a stop at the red light. “I know what we can do today. We should totally go to Rookwood!”

  I can’t even pretend to share her enthusiasm. I check the clock on the dash. “But it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Monday. Won’t they have classes?”

  She gives an easy wave of her hand. “They’ll be finished by now. Trust me, it’ll be fun. The weekdays there aren’t wild like the weekend parties are. You’ll like it.”

  I crinkle my nose.

  “And,” she adds, “I really want you to get to know Max. It’s been six months, and you’ve hardly spent any time with him.”

  “I’ve been to a few parties,” I remind her.

  “Exactly. You’re one of my best friends, Jenna, and you don’t know anything about my boyfriend.”

  “I know his dad’s in jail,” I say, offering a smile.

  “Shh,” she hisses, flapping her hands.

  I laugh. “What, you think he’s bugged your car?”

  “No.” She swats at me as the red light changes to green. “Just forget I said that, though, okay?”

  I mime zipping my lips shut. “I’m one of your best friends, huh? I thought Brianna and Imogen had taken that spot.”

  She grins. “Brianna and Imogen are cool, but you’re my ride or die.”

  I laugh again.

  “I’m glad we’re hanging out, just us. It’s been forever since we’ve done this.”

  I twist in my seat, turning to face her. “Yeah. Why, exactly? You totally ditched Hollie and me over the summer.”

  Her lips purse. “I didn’t mean to, Jenna. Things just got...” She trails off and sighs. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ve really missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  We take off along the coastal road, where the boutique shops and artisan cafes line the walkway. Palm leaves sway gently in the breeze, and beyond the promenade, the ocean catches the light and glistens.

  Serena veers left onto the side streets. Evidently, the decision has been made. We’re going to Rookwood.

  Great.

  Although, maybe this isn’t such a terrible idea. If I’m going to go, it may as well be in broad daylight. And if there’s any chance of snooping for information that could clear Hollie’s name, this could be my way in.

  It only takes a couple of minutes to reach the Rookwood entrance sign, with its gold calligraphy on a rusted black panel. But Serena bypasses the courtyard entrance. I catch a glimpse of the gothic school building as we pass it by. It somehow manages to look grim even on a reasonably bright day.

  We carry on along a track through the forest and eventually roll to a stop in a glade. I can just about see the cabin’s roof through the firs.

  Leaving the comfort of Serena’s car, we forge a path through the trees toward the cabin. In the daylight, it takes on a new face, and I can imagine it was probably quite pretty once. Inside, it’s as dark as if it were nighttime, blushed by low watt bulbs and hazy with smoke. I follow Serena as she greets a couple of guys lounging on the couches. Max is across the room, shooting pool with another boy. Serena skips over to him, dragging me with her.

  “Baby!” She jumps into Max’s arms and wraps her legs around his waist.

  After what feels like an eternity, they break apart, and she bounces back down to the floor.

  “This is Jenna,” Serena introduces me. “She’s been my bestie for, like, forever.”

  “Hey.” Max is blond-haired and blue-eyed, and in a parallel universe he would have slotted right into the role of captain of the football team or prom king. But in this universe, there’s a coldness to him, and something calculating in his eyes despite his charming smile. Something that makes me bristle.

  “This is Max,” Serena says, as if I don’t already know. “And Tommy.”

  The boy holding the pool cue looks up.

  “Hi.” I try to keep my smile easy. Tommy. The boy from the picture. The one with jet-black hair and bottomless eyes. The third name.

  “Hey,” he says.

  Max returns his attention to Serena. “What brings you here, babe?”

  “I just missed you, baby. I wanted to see you.” She nuzzles into his chest, and he strokes her back. There’s a pause, then she asks, “Why didn’t you reply to my text?”
>
  His brow furrows. “What text?”

  “I sent it about an hour ago.”

  “I didn’t see a text.”

  She exhales. “Oh, good. I thought that was it. I just wanted to check.”

  I’m starting to wonder if Serena’s teary eyes after the service had less to do with Colleen and everything to do with Max and his radio silence. That would explain why she was so insistent on showing up here.

  I can’t stop my gaze from wandering across the room, toward the couches. Colleen’s last Instagram picture was taken just a few feet from where I’m standing.

  “Hello.”

  I jump at the sound of Adam’s voice.

  “You’re here,” he says. He’s smiling. It’s a kind of cute, lopsided grin that I haven’t seen on him before.

  Serena untangles herself from Max. “Oh, hey, Adam. This is my friend Jenna.”

  “I know,” he says.

  Serena frowns, and then her face drops into a look of understanding. “Oh, right. Because you two...” She trails off, biting her lower lip.

  Max looks between us. “You two, what?”

  I see the tension in Adam’s jaw. “Nothing.”

  But Serena is already diving into the explanation. “Jenna was there, too,” she says, delicately. “When Adam found Colleen.”

  Serena seems oblivious to the sudden uneasiness amongst the three boys. Their eyes move between each other, Max to Adam, Adam to Tommy, Tommy to Max.

  “Is that right?” Max says at last. “I had no idea.” His piercing blue gaze is back on me now. “That must have been upsetting for you.”

  I don’t flinch under his stare. “It was,” I say, calmly. There’s a hidden meaning in his words, in his inflection. I’m just not sure what the undertone means. It feels like a warning, or a threat.

  “I’ve seen her story all over the news,” he adds. “Some wasted girl slips and falls from the cliff edge, right? Sad.”

  I fold my arms. “Yes, it is sad. Colleen came here a lot, didn’t she? She came to your parties.”

  Tommy shrinks back.

  Serena puts her hands on her hips and stares at Max’s profile. “You didn’t hang out with her, though, did you? I know she was always coming over here, but you didn’t hang out with her one-on-one. Right?”

  Max’s eyebrows draw together. “No. Of course not.”

  “Colleen used to come here sometimes,” Serena tells me. “But the guys weren’t friends with her.” She turns to Max again. “Were you?”

  “No. I don’t even remember the girl.” He raises an eyebrow, as though he’s daring anyone to challenge him. As though he’s daring me to challenge him.

  Adam rests his hand on my arm. “Do you want the tour? I can show you around while these guys finish their game.” He glances at Tommy, and on command Tommy lifts his pool cue.

  “Your shot,” Tommy tells Max.

  Max steps away from Serena and lifts his own cue. Suddenly, I notice the tattoo on his forearm—it’s the same inked talon that Adam has on his arm. And Tommy has one, too. “See you around,” Max says to me as he chalks the blue tip. “Jenna, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I answer, as coolly as I can.

  “I’ll remember that,” he says.

  Adam guides me to the door, and it creaks as he opens it. We cross outside onto the mossy ground. The smell of pine engulfs the salty air.

  We’re alone now.

  I wrap my arms around myself as the wind whistles through the trees. “What was that about?”

  “What?”

  “You know what.” I hold his stare. “Max. What’s his deal?”

  Adam presses his lips together. “Look, it’s nothing. Max just doesn’t trust people easily, that’s all. If you come around here asking about Colleen, it’s going to put him on edge. We’ve already had the cops asking questions just ’cause she partied with us sometimes.”

  My eyes travel over the cabin and the ivy crawling up the log walls. “I don’t buy that. I’ve been questioned too, but I’m not acting sketchy. Something’s up.”

  “Nothing’s up.” He lowers his voice to a murmur. “We knew Colleen, yeah. But none of us have anything to do with what happened to her. None of us want to have anything to do with that. We don’t want our names involved.”

  “My friend,” I say, “the girl that I told you about, Hollie, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with this, either.”

  “I know.” He runs his hand across his brow. “And I’m sorry about that.”

  “But if you or your friends know anything that could—”

  “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you covering for Max?”

  He shakes his head. “No. There’s nothing to cover. I’m just looking out for him, like how you’re looking out for Hollie. I don’t want him getting dragged into this.”

  “But if you’re hiding something...”

  “Jenna—” my name sounds careful on his lips “—you have to drop this. Stop asking about Colleen. Stop asking about Max.”

  “Why? If he’s got nothing to hide—”

  “Stop.” He glances over his shoulder, checking that we’re alone. “We look out for each other here.”

  Around us, the trees move, their branches bowing in the wind.

  I keep my gaze on Adam. “What does that mean?”

  “Max isn’t hiding anything. And you have to stop asking me about this.”

  “Oh.” I breathe out a laugh. “I get it. Max isn’t hiding anything. But if he were, you wouldn’t tell me, right?”

  He kicks the ground with the toe of his sneaker, disturbing the moss. “We look out for each other here,” he echoes.

  And that’s all he says.

  JENNA: Hey. Are you okay?

  HOLLIE: I guess. How was the memorial?

  JENNA: Kind of heavy. I ended up going to Rookwood with Serena right after. I’m still there.

  HOLLIE: ???

  JENNA: In my defense, I was in her car. I had no choice.

  HOLLIE: Why were you in Serena’s car?

  JENNA: Long story.

  HOLLIE: Do you want me to come rescue you?

  JENNA: It’s okay. Serena said we’ll be leaving soon. Hol, I have to ask you something.

  HOLLIE: Go on.

  JENNA: Those times that you went to Rookwood with Serena, did you see much of Max?

  HOLLIE: Obviously. Serena got drunk and introduced me to him, like, ten times in one night.

  JENNA: Did you think he was shady?

  HOLLIE: Totally. Why?

  JENNA: Okay, I’m just going to put it out there. I think Max had something to do with what happened to Colleen.

  HOLLIE: Call me when you can.

  ADAM

  “What was she talking to you about out there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “She was asking about Colleen?”

  “Yeah.”

  His grip tightens around the pool cue. “Just remember whose side you’re on, Adam.”

  I meet his stare. “You don’t do yourself any favors, Max. You were acting weird as hell.”

  A couple of the guys pass the pool table, and we stop talking.

  “Later,” Max says.

  “Yeah.”

  * * *

  I knew about Rookwood long before I was sent here. It’s the place parents always threaten to send their kids whenever they act out. This dark dungeon in the middle of a forest, where all the bad kids go to rot.

  Back then, I never thought I’d be one of the bad kids.

  Freshmen are always fair game in the first few months. Fourteen years old, just starting out at Rookwood, and we know to keep our heads down. I leave the school building and cross through the courtyard. Tommy is farther ahead, walking toward the dorms. We’ve l
ived here a while, a couple of weeks, but he still doesn’t talk much. I don’t mind that. I don’t feel much like talking either.

  I watch him walk. His head is bowed. It always is.

  A group of senior guys have gathered behind him. They’re like lions stalking prey. They’ve formed a pack, and their strides quicken as they close in on Tommy. They have a purpose, a game. And I think, Ah well, here we go.

  Tommy’s head stays low, matted black hair hanging over his eyes. I think he knows what’s coming. He’s bracing himself.

  They jump him. They get him down to the concrete and start taking pops at him. Just for fun. Just because they can.

  I drop my backpack and race across the courtyard. I grab the nearest guy and pull him down. Some of the others start taking shots at me.

  Through the blur of arms and fists, I see another freshman. A blond boy, swearing at the top of his lungs as he runs over. This stocky little kid starts scrapping, throwing punches at the older guys.

  A whistle alarm blows, and we all scatter like crows. Like Rooks.

  We didn’t win the fight. Tommy and the blond kid look bloodied up. I figure I look the same.

  Security come with their whistles and radios, and we run for the forest. It’s better not to get caught fighting, even if it isn’t your fault. No one wants to get put into isolation—that block screws with your head.

  I’ll never forget the rough feel of the tree trunk on my spine as I lean against it, breathless and bruised.

  The blond boy starts laughing. Blood is trickling down his face, staining his teeth, but he just laughs.

  It makes me smile. Tommy, too. I don’t know why. I guess we’re fucked up, and not just on the outside.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the blond boy.

  “Max.”

  I slap my hand to his and grip hard. Then Tommy does the same.

  “I think the three of us would have had them,” Max says. “If we’d just had some more time.”