This Is Why We Lie

by Gabriella Lepore

  Before I toss the phone, I see a new message on my screen.

  I open the text, and my pulse accelerates at the sight of Jenna’s name. I don’t know if that’s because I want to hear from her...or not.

  Hi, are you okay? That’s all it says.

  I type back. Yeah. Listen, about last night, did you talk to Serena?

  Yes. She’s fine. So are Brianna and Imogen.

  I frown at the new message. So Jenna told Serena about Max and Colleen hooking up, and she and her friends are cool with it? And that isn’t the sketchiest reaction?

  My thumbs move over the keypad. I think we should talk. In person.

  She’s writing back. When? Where?

  The beach, I reply. Fifteen minutes.

  I slip my cell into my jeans pocket and shrug into my jacket. Outside, the air is cold, and the sky above the treetops is silver. There are a couple of cop cars parked in the campus courtyard. I keep my head bowed as I dodge past them on my way to the track leading down to the beach.

  JENNA

  Adam is already on the beach by the time I arrive. He’s sitting on the rocks below the walkway. His short brown hair is moving in the ocean breeze, and his gaze is trained on the rippling water. The tide is choppy today, unsettled.

  I climb down onto the rocks and navigate a path across the sand and pebbles.

  Adam turns his attention to me. He stands. His hands are in his jacket pockets as he walks toward me, stepping over the uneven stones.

  “Hi.” His voice sounds tired.

  “Hey.” I can’t help but feel relieved by the sight of him.

  I’m starting to notice things about him, I realize, like how dark his lashes are and the way his mouth lifts at the corner into an almost-smile. Today, I look at him closer than I’ve ever done before.

  There’s an ease to his expression, actually. Something that makes me think he doesn’t know what I know.

  Suddenly, I think we should talk takes on a whole new meaning.

  “I’m glad you texted me,” he says. “I’ve been thinking a lot about last night.”

  I draw in a shallow breath.

  “We’re on the same side, Jenna,” he tells me. “I know that might be hard for you to believe. But I mean it. I want to know what happened to Colleen just as much as you do.”

  The cold breeze pulls a strand of my hair free from my ponytail and whips it across my cheekbone. I push it back behind my ear and take a steadying breath. “Do you know about what’s been going on at the harbor this morning?”

  He frowns back at me. “What do you mean?”

  I close my eyes for a second. “I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. I thought that’s why you asked if I’d talked to Serena. I thought that’s why you wanted to meet...”

  “Knew what? What’s going on?”

  “Another body has been found.”

  His lips part. “What? What body? Whose body?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmur. “But that’s why I texted you. I was worried. I thought it might have been...”

  You.

  He yanks his phone from his jeans pocket and punches the buttons. The sound of a voice mail response leaks softly out into our world. Hey, this is Tommy. Leave me a message—Adam hangs up the call. “Are you sure? Are you sure you’ve got this right?”

  I nod, unable to find my voice.

  “I’ve gotta go,” he mutters. “I’ve gotta get to the harbor.”

  He turns and heads across the beach. I follow after him, quickening my pace to keep up with his long strides.

  “Tommy,” he says. His words sound muddled. “It’s Tommy. He didn’t come back to our room last night. I should have gone looking for him. I knew I should have...”

  “Stop. You don’t know it’s him.” I want to comfort him, touch him, take his hand, anything, but he’s tense as we scramble quickly over the rocks.

  We climb up to the boardwalk and race along the promenade. Eventually, the harbor comes into view. It’s the same sight I looked out over last night, only from the opposite angle. A mirror reflection. Except everything’s brighter in daylight. The colors aren’t muted anymore.

  Just above the beach, we stand, staring. Police and forensics are already swarming the place, wearing white jumpsuits as they scan the ground. Kate is a little farther away, talking to two cops in uniform.

  There’s a car attached to a tow truck. It’s being held at the edge of the jetty, still glistening with water as if it’s just been dredged up. Some members of the white-suited forensic team are dusting the interior for prints.

  I hold my breath, staying beside Adam on the outskirts.

  “Whose car is that?” I whisper.

  His breath comes out fast. “It’s mine.”

  * * *

  A sky-blue Dodge pulls up into one of the spaces in the pier parking lot.

  Serena’s attention snaps away from Hollie and me. “Oh my god,” she breathes. “Rooks.”

  I peer over the top of my latte and across Chai’s deck. I hold my cup to my lips for a moment while my gaze lingers on the car in the neighboring lot.

  The engine stops running, and the bass music cuts out. The boys’ voices drift from the open window. They’re laughing loudly.

  I recognize the boy in the driver’s seat, and I stop myself from staring.

  It’s the guy from the beach. The guy who’d been swimming at dawn. The guy I’ve been thinking about for the past couple of weeks.

  It hits me, and my stomach knots. He’s a Rook.

  Suddenly, Serena starts laughing.

  I frown at her.

  She notches up the volume of her giggle, flipping her hair too. She’s peacocking. Totally.

  Hollie joins in.

  I raise an eyebrow.

  Hollie grins at me and shrugs.

  “Unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head.

  The three boys are out of the car now and heading toward the market. They didn’t even glance this way—much to Serena’s and Hollie’s disappointment.

  “Oh my god,” Serena whispers. “They’re so hot.” She starts fanning her face with a napkin. “I’m obsessed.”

  I snatch the napkin from her hand. “Yeah. Why, exactly? You don’t even know these guys.”

  “Exactly. That’s the point.”

  “The mystique,” Hollie adds. “They’re like mythical beings who only venture out on a full moon.”

  I glance up at the cloudless blue sky, where the April sun beats down on the rippling ocean.

  “Or on bright, sunny days,” Hollie says, following my gaze. “Semantics.”

  Serena’s attention is still on the market doorway—the portal that stole the boys. “I just had the best idea.” She drags her gaze back to Hollie and me. “This is our opportunity to get in with the Rooks. The gods have presented us with a gift, a rare sighting, and we can’t waste it, ladies. We have to talk to them.”

  “We don’t know them,” I remind her. “What are we going to talk to them about?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever. Anything. We just need them to hang out with us.”

  “They don’t want to hang out with us,” I say. “They have their own thing going on.”

  She gasps at the insult. “Of course they’ll want to hang out with us! Don’t be such a naysayer, Jenna. We’re three hot girls. They’re three hot guys.” She slaps her hands together. “It’s basic math.”

  Hollie leans back in her seat and raises an index finger. “I call dibs on the blond.”

  “You can’t call yet,” Serena tells her. “Not until we’ve seen them all up close.”

  I roll my eyes.

  The market door slides open, and the trio emerges. The boys cross the street toward the parking lot.

  They’re heading back to their car.

  Serena ju
mps up from her seat and starts pacing across the café’s deck.

  “Serena,” I hiss. But she’s already strutting down to the parking lot.

  “Hey!” she calls to the boys.

  They turn toward her. They seem to hesitate. They’re suddenly wary.

  “Are you guys partying tonight?”

  The blond answers. “We could be.”

  Their voices are muffled now. Hollie and I are too far away to hear.

  But I notice beach guy’s gaze wander over me. He almost smiles, and then he looks away.

  A minute later, Serena trots back to us, beaming. She waves her cell and whispers, “He gave me his number.” She slips back into her seat. “Max.” She says his name excitedly.

  I look back at the lot as the boys reach their car.

  “Adam.” Max signals to my beach guy. “Throw me your keys, man. I want to drive.”

  Adam tosses his keys.

  Max is driving now. The Dodge’s engine revs, and the music starts up again.

  I see Adam in the passenger’s seat. As they tear onto the road, tires screeching on the hot tarmac, a shiver moves over me.

  ADAM

  That’s my car. That’s my car.

  I want to shout it. I want to tell everyone to back away, because that’s my car.

  Someone took my keys.

  Someone drove my car into the harbor.

  My thoughts are spiraling, coming thick and fast.

  Jenna is standing next to me. She hasn’t moved in a while. I can’t look at her.

  That’s my car.

  She chokes out a cry.

  Across the pavement, the police have approached something. They’re crouching, leaning over a heap of blankets on the ground.

  But they’re not looking at the blankets. There’s something under them. A person.

  It’s then that I notice there are officials from Rookwood here, too—Hank with his balding head and heavy trench, and Principal Lomax, dressed in jeans and a purple raincoat, like she’s rushed straight over here from walking her dog. She probably has—because this is an emergency. They’re standing together with their heads bowed, keeping a respectful distance as the cops inspect the body.

  I can’t hold back anymore. I sprint forward.

  “Is it Tommy?” I hear my voice like a gunshot in the eerie quiet. My voice doesn’t belong here. It’s loud and frantic. This is a place for order and calm.

  One of the cops grabs me. He holds me back, pinning my arms down, like he’s afraid I might fight back.

  Everything blurs. My car, the jetty, the cop. Jenna.

  “Is it Tommy?”

  Principal Lomax rushes to me. “Adam.” She’s saying my name. Asking me to stay calm. Asking me to breathe. Maybe I’m not breathing.

  “Is it Tommy?” The questions limps out of my mouth again.

  “No,” she tells me. But I don’t have time to think about what that means. Principal Lomax’s lips are moving. The words are already out.

  “It’s Max.”

  Interview with Adam Cole,

  conducted by Detective Drew Felton at 11:20 a.m.

  on Saturday, October 13th.

  D.F.: Adam. We meet again, it seems.

  A.C.: Yeah.

  D.F.: Adam, who might have had access to your car last night?

  A.C.: I don’t know. Any of the boys. They borrow my car all the time. I thought Max might have taken my keys.

  D.F.: What made you think Max had taken your car?

  A.C.: I was looking for my keys last night. I couldn’t find them. I thought he took them.

  D.F.: So, Max had your car keys?

  A.C.: He must have, right? But I never thought he would do this. I never thought he’d kill himself.

  D.F.: Let’s circle back for a second, Adam, because I’m still not getting an answer from you. What made you think Max had taken your car keys last night?

  A.C.: I thought he was going after someone. A girl.

  D.F.: Why?

  A.C.: He wanted to talk to her.

  D.F.: About what?

  A.C.: I don’t know.

  D.F.: Where were you last night, Adam?

  A.C.: I was at Rookwood. Mostly.

  D.F.: Mostly?

  A.C.: I was at the pier for a minute. There was a vigil for Colleen O’Dell.

  D.F.: Was Max with you?

  A.C.: Yes.

  D.F.: When was the last time you saw him?

  A.C.: I don’t know. Back at Rookwood. Early hours. I don’t remember the exact time.

  D.F.: Had you been drinking last night, Adam?

  A.C.: No.

  D.F.: Are you sure about that?

  A.C.: Yes.

  D.F.: Do you remember the last conversation you had with Max Grayson? Adam? Are you alright there, son? Adam...? Okay, I’m going to let you get some rest. We’ll continue this again soon.

  Interview terminated at 11:32.

  BRIANNA: Serena, babe, we’re all here for you. Please call.

  IMOGEN: Please reply. Are you okay???

  BRIANNA: Serena, we all love you and want to support you. Girls, maybe we should go over to her house?

  IMOGEN: I’m already on my way. Jenna, are you coming?

  SERENA: Please don’t come over, Imogen. I just want to

  be alone.

  JENNA

  Outside of the group chat, I have a private message from Serena.

  Come over. But just you, okay?

  Even by the time I get to her house, I still have absolutely no idea what to say to her. When I woke up on Saturday morning, I thought I’d be breaking the news about Max cheating with Colleen. But now, a day later, I’m showing up to comfort her while she grieves over Max’s sudden death.

  A shadow approaches behind the frosted glass panel in the Blakes’ front door. The door opens, and Serena’s mom greets me with a weak smile.

  “Hi, Mrs. Blake.”

  She blinks a couple of times, as if she’s trying to place my face. I’ve met her before, but I’ve always felt like Mrs. Blake was kind of absent. Even when Serena and I were hanging out most days, I hardly ever saw her mom. Whenever we arrived at Serena’s house, we were always greeted by the housekeeper. Serena’s parents were usually out at some fancy function or party.

  “I’m Jenna,” I say, to jog her memory. “Serena’s friend.”

  “Of course. Come in, Jenna.” She smiles again, and for a second I’m struck by the family resemblance. She and Serena share the same glossy black hair and dark eyes. But more than that, there’s a certain façade to the Blake women, something very poised and elegant even in the midst of chaos.

  “How is she?” I ask as I step into the hallway.

  Mrs. Blake sighs. “Well, she’s struggling. This has devastated her, as you can imagine.”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Serena was besotted with that boy.”

  I dip my gaze. “I know. She really loved him.”

  She lets out another gentle breath. “It certainly seems that way. Did you know him well?”

  The question catches me off guard. “No,” I tell her. “Not really.”

  “He was quite something,” she muses. “A lot of potential there. I must admit, I had my reservations about Serena getting involved with a boy from Rookwood.”

  I bristle at the comment.

  “But Max,” she carries on with a sigh, “he surprised me. He presented very well.”

  I muster a smile. Max, the master of deception.

  “He was a big hit at the country club,” she adds. “At first, I was sure Serena was only dating him to shock me or to get my attention, I don’t know.” She pauses and runs her fingers along her pearl necklace. “But now I see she was truly fond of him.”

  “She was d
evoted.”

  Mrs. Blake’s gaze drifts to the wide staircase. “She’s upstairs in her bedroom. You can go on up. You know the way?”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  “If you need anything...” She trails off, then lightly squeezes my arm before stepping aside.

  Serena’s bedroom is a world of mirrors and soft pinks, the bed piled high with throw cushions. She’s sitting amongst the cushions with her knees tucked up to her chest. Her face is blotchy, and mascara is smudged beneath her watery eyes.

  Her gaze lands on me, and fresh tears fill her eyes. “I just keep thinking,” she whispers hoarsely, “this can’t be real.” A tear spills down her cheek, and she lets it fall.

  I take a seat on the edge of her bed. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say or do to make this better.”

  She purses her lips, fighting back a sob. “Nothing can make this better, Jenna. He’s gone.” She gives way to a shattered breath. “Max is dead.”

  I drop my gaze, tracing the crisscross patterns on the bedding with my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “This can’t be real. It can’t be.”

  “I know,” I murmur.

  Serena’s phone pings, and she tosses it aside.

  The new message flashes on top of a dozen other unread texts. “It’s Imogen,” I say, reading from her screen. “She just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

  “She texted me a hundred times already. I can’t deal with it right now.”

  “She’s just worried about you. They all are.”

  “I said I can’t deal, Jenna.”

  “Okay.” I place my hand on her leg. “You don’t have to.”

  “I loved him,” she whispers.

  “I know you did.”

  “We had plans. We had our future mapped out. We were going to start apartment shopping next week.”

  “Serena...”

  “I loved him so much, Jenna.” She rubs roughly at her eyes. “I thought I’d be married to him by this time next year.”

  “I’m sorry.” My stomach tightens at the thought that Serena’s memories would be forever tarnished if she found out what Max had been doing behind her back. Who he really was.