All the Little Lies (English Prep 1)

A sound jerked me out of my thoughts. I sat up in bed and bounced my attention back and forth from the bedroom door to the window. My heart picked up its pace; butterflies invaded my stomach. I felt giddy, and I couldn’t remember the last time I'd ever felt like that.

One long, lean, jean-clad leg tore through my window once it was pulled open, and I stayed ramrod straight in my bed. I felt pathetic that I wore my best band t-shirt and nicest sleep shorts when I climbed in my bed tonight, just in case he followed through with his threat.

I was a typical schoolgirl at that moment. Not caring about much in my life other than a boy who probably didn’t carry even a fraction of the feelings I carried. He wanted me safe, but that didn’t mean he got excited when he saw me or felt a tightening in his lower stomach at the thought of kissing me.

Once Christian was fully inside my bedroom, he turned around and closed the window. He placed his hands on his hips and kept his body angled toward mine. It was dark in my room, the only light from the nighttime sky filtering through the glass. I couldn’t make out his face all together, but I was certain he was wearing a grin.

“Thought you were going to lock it,” he half-whispered.

My face flamed, and I was grateful the room was still dark. “I forgot…” I exhaled slowly. “You don’t need to be here, Christian. I’m fine. All tucked away and locked in my room. What do you think is going to happen?”

Christian inched further into the room. I watched as he tore his jacket off and laid it on the ground near my laptop. Next, his dark figure walked closer to my mattress, and he sat down with his back resting along the wall. His long legs were pulled up with his arms resting on top.

I could see him clearly now. The sharp angle of his jaw as the moon’s light cut through the room, the high cheekbones and straight nose. The only thing I couldn’t tell was the color of his eyes, but I knew those by heart: stormy, sometimes lighter and sometimes darker.

His gravelly voice finally broke the silence. “Who knows. Maybe those fuckers know where you live, and maybe they’ll climb through your window. Maybe they’ll pay Pete to unlock your door. Or”—Christian’s voice grew quieter—“maybe Pete will try something. Whatever. I’ll be here in case something does happen.”

I paused. I told my heart to stop beating so fast and made sure my voice wasn’t high-pitched and girly when I said, “I told you I can take care of myself, Christian. I’m not asking you to save me or to protect me.”

I didn’t need to see his eyes to know how serious he was. “You never would, and that’s precisely why I’m here.”

“To protect me because I wouldn’t ask you to?”

“Everyone needs to be saved every once in a while, Hayley. Just let me be the one to do it.”

Asking why seemed redundant. He always danced around the reason, which only left me more curious. Does he have some hidden feelings for me? Did the kiss mean something to him, too? Did he have some strange knight-and-shining-armor fantasy he wanted to act out? Did he realize I didn’t have anything to do with his mom's death? Was this guilt for the way he had treated me?

“Whatever,” I finally said. The word sounded so juvenile in this situation. “But you’re not sleeping on the bed.”

He grunted. “Well, I’m sure as fuck not sleeping on the floor.” He poked the side of my mattress. “Though it may be more comfortable.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Oh, shut up. Not everyone can have a rich daddy like you.”

A barely there chuckle escaped him.

“So…” I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling again. “What do you plan to do in the morning? And where does your dad think you are?”

“My dad’s never home. And I’ll climb out of your window and go home to shower and then go to school.”

I played the devil's advocate. “So, what if my kidnappers watch you leave and then come and get me?” Christian didn’t say anything, so I rolled on my side and gazed at the side of his face. “I was kidding. I’m not totally helpless.” Little did he know I had a steak knife underneath my mattress—just in case.

“You know…” He slowly turned his face in my direction. “Maybe I’ll just shower here and drive you to school.”

I laughed out loud before I slapped my hand over my mouth, bringing my voice to a whisper. “Yeah right. Pete times my showers. Six minutes or he will shut the water off. What makes you think he’ll allow me to take two showers, assuming he won’t know that you’re the second shower of the morning?”

“He times your showers?” Appalled, he shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

“Not the point.” I rested my head in the palm of my hand. “The point is, there’s no way that’ll work.”

“Unless…” Christian’s whispers shouldn’t have sounded so appealing and sexy. They sent a shiver down my spine, almost as if he were whispering in my ear with his warm breath hitting just the right spot. “I shower with you. We can both shower within six minutes. Pete will never know.”

Two things happened: I felt hot all over—even my core felt like it was in the bottom of a volcano—and my brain screamed the word yes!

My mouth, however, did not. “In your

dreams, Christian.”

He chuckled and mumbled something, but I wasn’t sure what. “I guess I’ll sneak out when Piper shows up to pick you up. Then, I’ll go home and shower and get to school. You two goody-goods get to school way before the first bell rings anyway. I’ll have time.” His shirt scratched along the wall as he shrugged. “And if I don’t, Headmaster Walton will write me a note—anything to keep his star student safe.”