Tell Me Pretty Lies

I give myself thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to soak in the feeling of Thayer’s arm wrapped around the curve of my hip, his hand gripping my boob, even in sleep. I imagine what it would be like if he was just a boy and I was just a girl and our parents hadn’t ever met. I wonder how things would be by now if Danny hadn’t died. When my thirty seconds are up, I slip out from his hold, trying my best not to wake him. He groans in his sleep, rolling onto his back as I sit on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but his scent and the bruises his mouth left on my skin, and I miss his warmth immediately. His shirt has risen enough to expose the V lines that lead below his low-slung sweatpants and I chew on my thumbnail, having to talk myself out of crawling back into bed.

But our story isn’t a fairytale. More like a Shakespearean tragedy. Allowing myself to believe otherwise is pathetic, and allowing this thing to go any further than it already has is reckless. Because when everything comes crumbling down, I’m going to be the one left feeling empty and alone. Again. I stand, using one arm to band across my bare chest, and push my wild hair out of my face, looking for my clothes.

Shit. Where are my shorts? I replay last night’s events in my mind, trying to remember what I did with them, when I realize they must still be downstairs. I’ll have to throw my dress from last night on. Tiptoeing over to my pile of soiled clothes, my hopes are dashed when I pick up the cold, still wet fabric. I consider putting it on anyway, but then I spot Thayer’s discarded hoodie on the floor next to the bed.

Good enough.

Bending over, I pluck it off the floor then slide my arms through the sleeves before zipping it up. I consider stealing a pair of his boxers, too, but his dresser is on the other side of the room, and I don’t want to risk getting caught. Luckily, his hoodie hits mid-thigh, so I slip on my Converse, tuck my wet underwear inside my pocket, and decide to abandon the dress entirely. I don’t care if I ever see it again, but I’m not going to leave my underwear on Thayer’s floor. Picking up my purse, I sling it over my head, the strap lying across my chest, and with one last look at Thayer’s sleeping form, I leave.

I shut the door behind me, slowly releasing the doorknob so as to not make a sound. I make my way down the stairs, cringing when one of the steps creaks beneath my foot. Tiptoeing the rest of the way down, I take in the unholy number of empty cups and bottles left on every surface. It’ll no doubt be gone in a couple hours once Holden calls their cleaners over to cover up the evidence.

Once I’m at the bottom of the stairs with the front door in sight, I breathe out a sigh of relief. That is, until it opens, revealing August. I freeze, rooted to the bottom step, heart racing. The shock on his face matches my own as his eyes roam over my bare legs, making their way up to my sex hair. He scowls at me, his expression troubled and angry. He calmly sets his briefcase down on the entryway table, closing the door behind him. His eyes drift past me, noticing the mess, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another.

“Which one?” he asks.

“Excuse me?” I tilt my head, not understanding his meaning.

“Whose bed did you just crawl out of?” He raises a questioning eyebrow, his voice stern.

I frown, my stomach rolling with nerves. What kind of question is that? Never mind the fact that I did, in fact, just crawl out of Thayer’s bed. “No one’s,” I lie.

“I’m sure you’ve realized that you no longer have a bedroom here.” Dark hazel green eyes that remind me so much of Thayer’s bore into me.

“I’m aware. I fell asleep on the sofa in the poolroom.”

“Ah,” he says knowingly. “Over imbibe, did we?” He’s giving me an out, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

“Yeah.” I lick my dry lips, casting a glance upstairs. I was so hell-bent on getting out of here undetected just minutes ago, but now I’d give anything for Holden or Thayer to wake up and save me from this awkward encounter. “I’m not much of a drinker, so I decided to play it safe and sleep here.”

He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Is Thayer awake?”

This feels like a trick question, and the fact that he knew to ask about Thayer specifically has me feeling even more on edge. Maybe we haven’t been as careful as I thought. I shrug, playing it off. “I’m not sure. I just woke up and I’m supposed to be meeting a friend.”

Another nod. When he doesn’t speak, I take that as my cue to leave. I step down from the last step, moving past him, but his hand darts out, catching my arm. I stop short, giving a pointed look at his where he grips me, apprehension snaking its way up my spine. He notices my discomfort and releases his hold immediately, taking a step back.

“How’s Greyson doing?”

I feel my eyebrows tug together, confused by the sudden change in subject.

“I haven’t seen him in town at all,” he elaborates when he notices my confusion. “Just making sure everything’s okay.” It sounds more like a question than a statement. Is it possible that August still cares for my mom?

“He’s okay,” I lie again. “School is keeping him busy, so we don’t see him as much as we’d like.”

Something genuine flashes in his eyes, but he conceals it before I’m able to place it. “And you? I was worried you and the boys wouldn’t get along, but I see that concern was unfounded.”

“I’m fine.” I leave it at that. He’s clearly fishing for information, and I’m not taking the bait. I don’t get the sudden interest in our lives. If he gives a shit, then where has he been for the past year? I think back to what Holden said about my mom having an affair but dismiss the possibility. Why is it when something goes wrong, their first reaction is to blame my family?

“Well, I’ll let you get to your plans,” he says, dismissing me as he loosens the tie around his neck. I head for the door once more, and this time, he doesn’t stop me.

I practically ran home through the woods. The sun was just starting to rise, barely peeking through the trees, telling me it was still before seven. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry, it would’ve been the perfect morning to hang out at the barn. I’ve never been a morning person, but there’s a certain peacefulness in the early hours. Thayer told me once that he could tell what time it was based on which birds were chirping, but the chirping left with the warm weather. This time of year, it’s calm and quiet, the air crisp. The only sound was my shoes running through the fallen leaves.

I managed to sneak into my house undetected. I grabbed a banana from the fruit rack, needing something to coat my empty stomach, then slipped off my shoes and quickly headed upstairs to my room. I finished half of my banana before giving up, t

hrew my dead phone on the charger, then promptly passed back out in the comfort of my own bed. I didn’t bother to shower or even change my clothes.

I wake up to Valen standing over me, a mixture of disgust and concern screwing up her features. “What—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck.”

“What?” I grumble, half-awake.