All The Lies

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All The Lies Page 8

by Kent, Rina


  “But Sebastian ruined it.”

  Her upper lip lifts in disgust. “Screw that asshole.”

  “Yeah, screw him with a backward stick so he feels pain every time he thinks about screwing someone.” I smile tentatively. “I’m sure this is too late, but I wanted to say I’m so sorry for that dare.”

  She raises an eyebrow as if not believing what I just said. “Is this some sort of reverse psychology where you’ll get me to admit my deepest darkest secrets and wishes? You don’t have to, because my wish already didn’t come true.”

  “How so?”

  “I wished you’d die, but you’re still alive.”

  “Oh.”

  My heart sinks as I stare at my flats with my hands in my lap. I didn’t think she hated me to the point of wishing me dead.

  Old Reina, what have you done?

  “Shit. You’re really upset?” Naomi watches me closely. “I never thought I’d live to see Reina Ellis upset.”

  “Of course I get upset, I’m a human.”

  “More like a monster who survives on being cunning, manipulating others, and screwing people’s lives over.” Her rapid-fire words stab me right in the chest.

  Asher isn’t the only one who thinks I’m a monster. Is that my nickname in everyone’s subconscious?

  “I told you I’m sorry, didn’t I?” I say hopefully.

  “Sorry? Do you think sorry fixes anything?” She laughs with a bitter edge as she stands up. “You can take your sorry and shove it up your skinny ass.”

  And then she’s storming out of view.

  My shoulders droop as I angle sideways and stare at my reflection in the water.

  Who knew behind such a beautiful face lurked a nightmare?

  I should’ve had a purpose, right? But no matter how much I think about it, there can’t possibly be an excuse to hurt people.

  It’s just wrong. Everything is so wrong.

  Another beautifully cruel face greets me in the reflection before he throws a rock in the water, disturbing both our images.

  I turn around and scowl at Asher’s face, which is still covered by aviators.

  Does he ever remove them?

  His broad shoulders block the sun and his shadow falls over me like damnation.

  Izzy said Asher played football in high school, but unlike his friends, he chose to study international law.

  Why would he abandon that now? We spent three years apart; why would he come back now of all times?

  He makes less sense than my missing memories.

  “Do you believe how much of a monster you are now?” he asks with a cool edge.

  I fold my arms. “I know why Naomi hates me. Why don’t you tell me why you hate me?”

  “Why?” He leans forward, filling the air with his sheer presence. “So you can kiss it better?”

  “Sure, why not?” I taunt.

  “Reina,” he growls.

  I have learned a trick when it comes to dealing with Asher: if I cower, he’ll push until I fall, but if I push back, he’s taken by surprise.

  People like Asher are easier to handle when they’re caught off guard. It’s impossible to clash with him when he has all his walls up. It’ll just destroy my armor.

  “Did I make you do a dare, too?” I place a hand on his T-shirt, my voice dramatic. “You didn’t like the girl?”

  He snatches my wrist and holds it in a deadly grip. “Stop fucking around, or you’ll regret it.”

  What’s there to regret when I already hate my life?

  I lean closer and whisper in his ear, “Show me your worst, Ash.”

  On my second day back at college, Bree invites me to join them for practice, but I pass.

  She glances at me with a frown, the kind everyone seems to be giving me since I woke up in the hospital.

  “Whatever, Rei,” she scoffs on her way out of a psychology lecture. “It’s not like we’re competing for state or anything.”

  I pause gathering my books as everyone throws curious glances our way. I swear a phone flashed as if taking a picture of me.

  “I just don’t see what I could add when I can barely walk,” I say slowly.

  Truth is, I’m scared about facing the whole cheerleading thing. What if all that was wiped clean with my memories? If I can’t remember who I am or why I did all those awful things, how can I remember flipping in the air? I’ve seen videos of myself on the squad’s YouTube channel. I’m one of those who gets thrown and flips in the air before landing at the top. That shit is scary.

  Bree closes in on me. The other cheerleaders who are in the same class stand behind her as if they’re scared of what’s about to go down.

  “Team spirit, Reina.” She grips the edge of the table hard until her knuckles turn white.

  One of the students elbows his friend on their way out.

  Bree clears her throat and lowers her voice. “You have to get your shit together or I swear to God…”

  “What?” I insist when she trails off. “If you start a threat, finish it.”

  “Karma, Reina.” She straightens. “That always comes around to bite you in the ass.”

  She flips her hair and storms out of the classroom.

  I stand there, clutching my bag and feeling completely out of my element.

  My head nearly explodes from the number of scenarios running rampant in it. Could I have wronged Bree, too?

  Honestly, with my track record, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  Naomi breezes past me with a vindictive smirk on her face.

  “Hashtag bitch fight.” She blows her gum into a bubble and pops it in my face. I close my eyes, pining for patience. The only reason I’m not attacking her is because I’ve done something unforgivable.

  “Leave Captain alone.” Lucy stands in front of me protectively.

  Naomi flips her off. “Gladly, follower.” She starts to leave then stops and throws another comment over her shoulder. “Oh, and Luce, you might want to pick that up.”

  Lucy looks around, confused. “What?”

  “Your dignity.” And then Naomi is out the door.

  Lucy sniffles. I stand up on a wobbly leg and awkwardly pat her shoulder. I’m totally unsure when it comes to comforting others, but I hate seeing Lucy in pain.

  I’ve only known her for two days, but she and Naomi are easily the most non-fake people in the squad. She makes sure to fill me in whenever I’m lost. She’s not a follower like Naomi called her; she’s just doing her best to have everyone get along.

  She’s a pacifier. Mom used to tell me those types usually have a soft, breakable core.

  Wait…

  Mom?

  How can I remember what Mom told me? I thought I didn’t have a mom.

  I mean, of course I was birthed by one, but she died during childbirth. From what I’ve gathered about my life—through Google—my dad has been a single parent all his life, so there isn’t a possibility of a stepmom either.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Captain.” Lucy wipes the moisture underneath her eyes. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Do what?” I sound as confused as I feel.

  “You told us not to cry in public or you’d have us clean the toilet.”

  Holy shit. I was a dictator.

  “Forget about that.” I offer her my handkerchief, and she takes it like it’s the Holy Grail. “You don’t have to defend me, Lucy. I can stand up for myself just fine.”

  “I just didn’t want it to get out of hand between you two. Nao can be really vindictive.”

  “Nao?” I raise a brow. “She lets you call her that?”

  “Ugh. Old habits. We used to be friends. Best friends, actually.”

  “What happened?”

  “She hates me since the whole Seb thing. She thinks I knew and didn’t tell her and that I betrayed her.” She lifts a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter.”

  God, I feel as evil as Hitler. Wait, maybe I was Hitler in a previous life. After all, we’re both dictators with a tendency for crazi
ness.

  “I’m so sorry, Luce.” I squeeze her arm lightly.

  She stares with wide eyes, her jaw nearly hitting the floor.

  “Lucy?” I wave a hand in front of her face. Shit, I think I broke the poor girl.

  “Uh…yeah…sorry. It’s just…we studied together since high school and that’s the first time I’ve heard you apologize.”

  “Don’t be silly. Everyone apologizes.”

  “Not you, Reina. You don’t do apologies, you don’t offer me your handkerchief, and you sure don’t stay back to make sure any of us are fine.”

  Bile rises to my throat as her words strike me like a whip. I was fake. Vain. Selfish.

  A shell.

  The worst type of person to ever exist.

  The thought hurts more than I’d like to admit. It’s like perching over a snow globe and watching myself. From the outside looking in, I had the perfect face and body. I had the grades and the cheerleading squad. I had Dad’s fortune and Alex’s endless support.

  But if I look closer, I see a trapped girl. A hollow life.

  A nothingness.

  Maybe Asher was right to call me a monster.

  That gloomy cloud creeps over me and crawls over my skin.

  Disgusting.

  You’re disgusting.

  You should die.

  “Are you okay?” Lucy asks.

  I force myself out of my head and fake a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t let what Bree said get to you. She’s thinking about the team. Without you, our spirits were pretty low, you know.”

  No, I don’t know. Why the hell is someone like me popular amongst these girls? I’m not an example they should look up to.

  I’m everything they need to avoid.

  “I’ll go with you,” I tell Lucy.

  Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “You will?”

  I interlink my arm with hers and she freezes, her body going tense. I pull back just as fast. Apparently, I didn’t use to do that, and if I keep giving her too many surprises, she might break for real this time.

  On our way to the gym, my skin prickles with unwanted attention. At first I think it’s the usual students gawking at me.

  It never stops—the attention, the waves, the fake greetings. Today, I contemplated covering my head and remaining in bed.

  The only reason I didn’t is because my head scares me. If I stay alone with it, I’ll be doomed. I’ll take the fake flattery over that gloomy cloud any day.

  Lucy nudges me, giggling under her breath. When I follow her field of vision, my ears heat.

  Asher.

  My eyes find him of their own volition. I don’t even need to search for him anymore. It’s crazy how much his presence draws me in.

  Sometimes, I think I’m still that lifeless form in the hospital and he’s the one who breathed life into me.

  Sure, it’s a toxic life, sinister and dark, but it’s life all the same.

  The weird awareness of his presence must be because he’s the reason behind my return to life.

  Delusional much, Reina?

  He seems to be out on a run since he’s wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. Lucy tells me he’s been practicing with the track team since he returned, but it’s not official.

  I’m not listening to her.

  My focus is on the tattoo lines snaking over the top of his bicep, rippling with every step he takes.

  The T-shirt is glued to his six-pack like a second skin. His damp hair sticks to his forehead. The dark strands are begging to be pushed back, gripped, combed.

  A few guys walk on either side of him, but he doesn’t seem focused on them. Since his aviators are gone, I can finally see his expression.

  His eyes are lost in an indifferent zone, like nothing really matters to him. It’s so similar to my gloomy cloud, which tells me to just let go.

  It says there’s no use in being here.

  Maybe Asher doesn’t like people to see that expression. Is that why he wears sunglasses all the time?

  Except, well, he’s usually friendly with everyone around him—except with me.

  It could be he’s putting up a façade, too. I always catch myself faking smiles in front of the squad and everyone at school.

  Asher’s dark eyes meet mine, and my world shifts for a second.

  How can a look hold so many promises and threats and…something else I can’t identify?

  A slow humming starts at my spine and twists the bottom of my stomach. This is what it feels like to be caught in someone’s orbit.

  It’s dangerous. It’s wrong. It’s…thrilling.

  My gaze finds his mouth, that warm mouth that isn’t as cold as the rest of him. I’m taken back to that time when those lips and teeth and tongue were all over my neck, my ears.

  Me.

  I cut off eye contact and quicken my pace to the gym.

  Still, my body temperature won’t go down, and my heart beats as if I were the one running.

  In the gym, Prescott and the other guys are practicing some throws with the girls. Bree stands at the head, huffing and screaming at them to do better.

  Everyone pauses upon my entrance, and Bree stares back with an impatient look. When she sees me, her brows scrunch together. “You’re here.”

  “I am.”

  “You should’ve seen her with Asher just now,” Lucy says in a dreamy voice. “You guys are the best couple ever. You can feel the chemistry in the air.”

  “That’s not true!” I shout as if she spoke blasphemy.

  “Shut it, Luce.” Bree snaps her fingers. “Go warm up.”

  The latter ducks her head and heads to the locker room.

  “Stop being so mean to her,” I tell Bree, crossing my arms.

  “Mean? What are you talking about?”

  It’s like this is a normal occurrence. Hell, I could’ve been exactly like her in the past.

  Bree inches toward me but keeps her hawk-like gaze on the team. “So, who’s the target of our next dare?”

  “No one,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear. “That nonsense will end now.”

  She laughs but leans in to hiss, “Even you can’t change the rules, Reina.”

  A flash stabs my head as a memory invades my senses.

  We shouldn’t have broken the rules, Reina.

  I sit cross-legged on the rooftop of the college and cradle a plate on my lap.

  My gaze gets lost in the buildings that extend all over the city. It’s not exactly beautiful, but it’s ancient.

  Like the entire college.

  Blackwood is a few centuries old, and this has always been one of the top towns for business and for rich people like Alex—and my dad.

  Oh, and the mafia people who worked with my dad.

  Since that van incident, I haven’t noticed anyone trailing after me. After I told Alex about it, he told me to always stay in crowds.

  Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean they won’t come back, Reina.

  His last words shoot terror down my spine. Still, I need a breather from the fakery sometimes.

  A week has come and gone. Every day I go to college and pretend today will be better.

  Today, I won’t hate Old Reina.

  It’s proving to be an epic failure. The more I get to know the girl from before, the more intense my existential crisis becomes.

  That’s probably why I snuck up here all alone. It’s hard since the squad won’t stop following me all over campus.

  Sitting here on my own feels a tad liberating. I can breathe without feeling a constant weight on my chest.

  I stab my fork at my plate. It’s chicken today. Not great, but still way better than salad.

  Another reason for my mood is last night’s dream—or was it a nightmare?

  I held someone’s arm and kept running like we were escaping death. It was so dark, I couldn’t see whose hand I was holding, but I could feel our connection. I felt safe with that person, like we could fly to the
moon and swim amongst the stars.

  Then suddenly, they let go of my hand. I screamed, but no sound came out. Then something hit the back of my neck and I woke up with a start.

  I can’t stop thinking about that dream. No idea if it’s a figment of my imagination or a memory.

  Let’s hope it’s the first, because I don’t want that person hurt.

  I might not have seen them, but my heart remembers them. It’s been aching non-stop since I woke up.

  Losing my appetite, I push the plate away and lie on my back. I couldn’t care less if my skirt and shirt get dirty.

  Nothing really matters now.

  The only bright spot this week was removing my leg brace. I can walk without it just fine now. The bruises have started to fade, too.

  I stare at the afternoon sun in the middle of the sky and lift my hand as if I can reach it.

  Maybe if I can, I’ll box it up and use it whenever that gloomy cloud takes control of my head.

  I have classes in the afternoon, but I just don’t care about them, or about my fake friends.

  So I just close my eyes and let the sun soak me.

  “We’re weaker when we’re apart.”

  “So we just have to be together.”

  “We can’t.”

  “No…”

  “Promise me you’ll protect yourself. Even if I’m not there, you’ll be safe.”

  “No, Reina. No.”

  “I’ll be safe, too. We’ll meet again. Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  I’m thrown back to the present with a shove. I stand on the edge, nearly falling down. That’s when I realize I’m literally on the edge.

  My surroundings have turned pitch black, but I recognize the college’s towers and the town’s lights in the distance.

  I remember coming up to the roof and closing my eyes, then…what?

  Why the hell am I standing on the ledge?

  My arms are bound behind my back and duct tape covers my mouth. The rope is tied to a pole behind me and my whole body is angled forward as if I’m about to free-fall from the roof.

  The reality of my situation hits me like a violent storm.

  I shriek, but the sound is muted by the duct tape.

  Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply. This must be a nightmare. I’m trapped in a nightmare.

  I slowly open my eyes, and the darkness grips me by the throat again. Like a savage animal, it claws at my skin and crunches my bones.

 

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