All the Little Lies (English Prep 1)
Page 32
I had no idea why I cared. I didn’t want to—not even in the slightest. I wanted to hold onto the resentful feeling I had for her. But there was something burning inside of me, urging me to dig deeper. To learn all of her secrets and hold them close.
“I’ll help you,” Ollie finally said, leaning back in his seat, but he made no attempt at digging out his phone to search for where Piper might have been tonight. “But you’re going to tell me why. You’re going to tell me why you told Hayley it was her fault Mom died.” He stared me down, his usual humor gone. “Because unless Hayley was shoving the pain pills down Mom’s throat…it wasn’t her fault.”
It felt like my rib cage was wedged open and it was seeping the bloody truth all over my clothes.
I placed my hand on the steering wheel and started to back down the gravel road. I swallowed the thick spit lodged in the back of my throat. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
“On the way to where?” he asked, pulling out his phone.
“On the way to wherever Piper is. And then to Hayley.”
They say the truth will set you free, but I highly doubted that. Apparently, it was sending me straight to Hayley.
Why won’t she pick up the phone? I paced back and forth in my bedroom, tripping over the stupid basketball on the floor. It’d been two hours since she called me frantically, saying her parents were fighting again. When I’d asked what they were fighting about, she said she was going to get a better listen and she’d call me back later.
She still hadn’t called back.
I worried about Hayley. Not just because I had a crush on her, but because she was my friend, too. One of my best friends. She played video games with me and happily hung out with Ollie even when he was being annoying. She said she had always wanted a sibling, someone she could hang out with when her parents were fighting, so letting him hang out with us was a must.
I blew air out of my mouth and left my room. Echoes of a cooking show were hitting my ears as I climbed down the stairs and entered the kitchen. There was Mom, baking something for our school’s bake sale, which was a nice sight since she’d been out with friends the last few nights. She had flour smeared on her face when she turned around, and her light hair was tied in a bundle above her head. “Hi, honey, what’s up?”
“Mom, can you drive me to Hayley’s?”
She looked concerned for a second. “Why? It’s almost 8:00. You should be getting to bed soon. You can see her tomorrow.”
Fear prickled at the back of my neck. “No, I think something is wrong with her. She called me about her parents, and now she won’t answer.”
Mom measured out some sugar in a cup and poured it into the bowl, not looking up at me. Thunder boomed in the background, and it did nothing but heighten my anxiety.
“Christian. I’m sure she’s fine. Doesn’t she call you all the time about her parents?” She sighed. “I’m sure Hayley is fine.”
“Mom,” I urged. “Something is wrong. I can tell.”
She shook her head. “Christian. It’s almost time for bed. I’m in
the middle of baking, Ollie is upstairs in the shower, and—” Another bang of thunder. She pointed to the window with her spatula. “It’s raining. The answer is no.”
Anger clawed at me. Something was wrong, I could tell. I pulled out my cell phone again and tried to call. This time, it went straight to voicemail.
“Mom, please!” I begged. My stomach began to tighten.
“No!” she shouted. “Now, stop. Go see if Ollie is out of the shower. You need to get ready for bed, too.”
“Fine. I’ll freaking go by myself!”
I hurriedly ran over to the door, pulled my shoes onto my feet, ignoring my mom’s protests, and pulled my jacket on. If she wasn’t going to drive me over there, then fine. I’d take my bike.
I jumped on the seat and tore out of the garage, flying down our cobblestone driveway and heading for the gates of our neighborhood. Rain danced in front of my vision, and my wheels were sliding everywhere along the slick asphalt, but I didn’t care. I could feel it in my bones.
Something was wrong with Hayley.
Something was wrong with Hayley that night. She watched her father get murdered.
And I watched my mother get hit head-on by a Trailblazer as she drove through the storm to find me. I was the one who left that night, ignoring her. If Hayley would have just kept her business to herself or answered the phone when I had called back, I never would have left. I never would have disobeyed my mom, and the crash never would have happened. My mom wouldn’t have been prescribed pain pills for her injuries, and she never would've gotten addicted.
And she never would have overdosed.
I glanced at Ollie in the passenger seat, and he looked as if he was barely breathing when I finished telling him. He was probably too fearful to do anything, afraid I’d stop spilling the ugly fucking truth. We were parked outside of the same house we came to last weekend when I’d come to teach Cole a lesson.