Little Lies

BJ shouts, “No boning in the driveway!” The door is wrenched open, and I tumble out, smacking my head on the concrete. Stars burst behind my eyes, turning the world black and white for a few seconds.

“Oh shit, Lav, are you okay? I had no idea it was you in there.”

I blink through the pain and find BJ, Liam, and Lane standing in a semicircle around me. Liam and Lane are finished with college, but they still live in the city and hang out with Quinn and BJ. All three of them are staring down at me with confusion and concern. My legs are still in the car.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words are stuck, either from shock or from hitting my head. BJ slides his hands under my arms and hauls me up as Dylan opens the driver’s side door.

His head pops up over the roof, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He scans the massive wall of man behind me, and the color drains from his face.

“I’m fine.” I don’t know whether to rub the back of my head or my lip, because both hurt. I go with my lip because it’s easier to reach, swiping my fingers across the bottom one. BJ grabs my wrist. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“You scared the crap out of us, and this is the result.” I motion to my face. My heart is pounding like I’ve run a marathon, but I feel like I’m managing this unfortunate situation pretty well, all things considered.

I motion to the three of them. “Dylan, these are my cousins BJ, Liam, and Lane. Guys, this is my friend Dylan who was just dropping me off.”

My cousins grunt out a variety of greetings.

“Hey, guys.” Dylan raises his hand in an uncertain wave.

“Thanks for driving me home.” I need him to get out of here so I can be alone with my embarrassment.

The front door swings open, and the never-ending nightmare that is this day smacks me in the face like a long-expired sausage. Kodiak stands in the doorway wearing only a pair of swim shorts, wet hair sticking out all over the place, water dripping on the damn floor. But God, is he ever glorious. Muscle layered over muscle, thick biceps flexing as he holds the doorjamb, a mischievous grin popping the dimple in his left cheek.

My heart seizes and gallops. I miss this version of him: the one that smiles and doesn’t hate me.

He ruins everything a moment later by bellowing, “Who’s fucking in the driveway?”

His gaze moves to Dylan, who looks as horrified as I feel, but as it shifts to me, his smile drops and my stomach tightens.

“You should really go,” I tell Dylan.

“I’ll see you around.” He disappears into his car and barely has the door closed before he’s backing out of the driveway and screeching down the street.

I adjust my backpack on my shoulder and head for the house, steeling my spine and my nerves because Kodiak is still standing in the middle of the doorway, his face a mask of indifference. I try to brush by him, but he stays where he is, making it impossible.

I sigh, exhausted beyond belief. I just want to go upstairs and have a good, cathartic cry. I try to mirror his apathy. “Can you move so I can get into my house?”

His brow furrows as his eyes move over my face. He lifts his hand, like maybe he’s thinking about touching me. There’s no way I can handle that. I jerk back and swat his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“Your lip is bleeding.”

“Don’t act like you actually give a shit, Kodiak.”

“Tell me what happened.” His voice is low and soft, and for whatever reason, that makes me even angrier, so I lash out, wanting to wound him the way he keeps wounding me.

“You, Kodiak. You happened, and you ruined my goddamn life. Now get the hell out of my way.” I elbow past him, almost tripping over several sets of running shoes.

I head straight for my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and close my eyes, taking deep breaths.

I imagined the concern in his voice.

I imagined the pain that sat heavy behind his eyes.

We see what we want to, not the truth, especially when it hurts.Chapter ElevenDependency Is a Dangerous Addiction

Lavender

Age 10

I LOVE AND hate Halloween. Hate is a strong word, and Mom always tells me not to use it, but I feel strongly about Halloween. I love the dressing-up part, and Mom always makes me a costume. We sit and flip through picture books and look at pretty princesses and fairies and decide which one I’m going to be.

I like that part a lot.

My costumes are always bright and fun, so I stand out. I like clothes that make it easy to pick me out in a crowd, even though I don’t like crowds and try to avoid them.