The Lie (Kings of Linwood Academy 2)

It always takes us a couple minutes to work into a real conversation when I visit, maybe because so little about this is natural. The phones we have to hold, the glass partition between us—none of this is what it should be like to talk to my mom.

I scrunch up my face. “Um, define ready.”

“Low.” She fixes me with a serious look.

“Yeah, I am. Or, I will be. There are a couple classes that are gonna be tough, but I’ve got friends who are helping me study.”

“Good.”

That seems to cheer her up immensely. I don’t mention that the “friends” who are helping me study are the four boys who tormented me during my first few weeks of school—the four boys I’m now hopelessly entwined with, caught up in a web of shared secrets, burning attraction, and undeniable chemistry.

Boys who are much more than friends.

“And how are things with Lincoln?” she asks, as if she somehow reached inside my head and plucked his name right out of my thoughts.

I’m falling in love with him.

He’s agreed to share me with three other boys.

He’s waiting for me outside right now.

“They’re… okay,” I say evasively, wishing I could tell her any of those things. “I just feel better living somewhere else. It makes things less awkward.”

As far as Samuel Black knows, Linc and I are still “broken up”, so I have to let my mom believe it too. Just in case. I’m careful never to outright lie to her about him, but it’s all fucking semantics at this point. Whether it’s a straight-up lie or a lie of omission, there are so many things my mom doesn’t know about my life right now that it makes me a little sick.

There was a time in my life when we told each other everything.

I miss those days.

“All right. As long as you’re okay,” she says, but I can tell she’s beating herself up again for not being able to take care of me—for leaving me alone to fend for myself.

I wish I could tell her that I’m not as alone as she thinks I am. That I have a good support system, four boys at my back who won’t let me fall if they can possibly stop it.

Someday.

Once she’s out of this place, I’ll tell her every fucking thing.

“I am, Mom. Promise.” I put my hand against the glass, and she mirrors the movement. “I’m excited for winter break though. It’ll be nice to have a little time off. Plus, I can come see you more.”

“Well, I always like that.”

She smiles, fiddling with the collar of her jump suit. I hate that I’m starting to get used to the sight of her in orange, that it’s no longer as shocking as it used to be. I don’t want to get used to any part of this.

We talk for a few more minutes, but she seems distracted and quieter than usual today. Something’s bugging her, but I can’t figure out what. Maybe she got some news from her lawyer?

The court-appointed attorney is a guy named Scott Parsons. He looks like he could be my age and acts way too fucking nervous to give me any confidence in his courtroom abilities, but Mom insists he knows what he’s doing and that she trusts him.

When I finally can’t take it anymore, I blurt, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Mom opens her mouth like she might try to brush it off, then closes it and sighs. “My trial date has been set.”

My throat goes dry, and my heart kicks against my ribs. Fuck. I always knew we didn’t have unlimited time, but this puts a ticking clock on our attempt to find any damning evidence against the real killer.

“Shit, Mom. When?”

The words are barely a whisper, but the phone’s mouthpiece must pick them up anyway, because she hears me.

“Two months. The prosecution is pushing hard to speed this along. Scott is trying to slow things down, but…” She trails off and sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good thing. The sooner my trial comes, the sooner I’ll have a chance to go home. Get back to my life.”