Tell Me Pretty Lies
She keeps her eyes focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, you know? We’re drifting apart. We barely talk on the phone anymore. He hasn’t come down to see me for the past two weekends.”
“Maybe he’s just busy,” I offer. “He’s crazy about you.”
“Or maybe he’s surrounded by hot college girls and I’m not cutting it anymore.”
I snort out a laugh. “You’re joking, right? There isn’t a man between the age of twelve and two hundred who wouldn’t want you.”
“Yeah, for a night.”
When I realize she’s serious, the smile falls from my face. Valen is gorgeous and confident and strong and she knows it. It’s unlike her to let a boy get inside her head like this. Her sudden display of insecurity catches me off guard, but it also comforts me in some weird way. We all have our own shit.
“So go to him. Surprise him and spend the weekend with him. Show him what he’s missing.”
Valen bites down on her lip, considering it before she turns her head to look at me, a smile spreading across her face. “I do have some new lingerie that I’ve been waiting to put to use.”
“Not exactly where I was going with that, but that works, too.” I laugh.
“Okay. Enough feeling sorry for ourselves.” Valen sits up, pulling on my arm to bring me with her. “You’re going to shower. I’m going to order pizza, and then we’re going to watch that serial killer documentary you’ve been trying to force on me.”
“Who needs boyfriends when your best friend knows the way to your heart?” I jump down from the bed and she smacks my ass on my way out.
“Really sad that this is your idea of a good time. But you’re welcome.”
Shayne
I jog down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to grab a muffin before I leave for school. My mom is at the counter with her back to me, coffee mug in one hand and the phone to her ear, speaking in a hushed voice. I slow my steps, trying not to alert her to my presence.
“It’s not the right time,” she says, sounding exasperated. “They’ve had a rough year. They all have. They’re just now finding their new normal.”
Who is she talking to? She pauses and my heartrate picks up in pace at her cryptic words, as if it has information that I’m not yet privy to.
“It’s not only up to you.”
Another pause.
“What do you expect me to do? Lock her in her room?” she whispers. “She’s a teenage girl, August.”
August? Great. He’s probably ratting me out for the other night. I roll my eyes. What a pal.
“Mom, I’m leaving!” I call out as I pluck a blueberry muffin out of the plastic container on the counter. She whips around to face me, and I give her a quick wave before turning to leave. She hurries off the phone, telling August they’ll continue their conversation later, and then she’s calling my name.
“Shayne, wait!”
My shoulders tense as I slowly turn back around, ready for the lecture that’s sure to come.
“I know you’ve got a lot going on with school and volleyball, but I could use your help cleaning out some of the rooms upstairs.”
I was not expecting that. “Okay.”
“The sooner we can get this place cleaned up, the sooner I can sell it.”
That gives me pause. “Sell it? Why would you sell it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks, as if that’s been her plan all along. “Grey’s on his own. You’re going off to college soon.” She glances around. “This place is too big and too much responsibility for just me.”
“That’s what you want?” I know my mom’s relationship with her parents was rough, but this is her childhood home. She has to have some attachment to it. This house doesn’t hold any sentimental value to me, but this town does, and the prospect of not having a reason to come back has my stomach twisting in knots.
She shrugs. “It’s really my only option, Shayne. I’ll sell the house to some rich jerk, put you through college, and buy myself a nice little three-bedroom home somewhere between you and Grey.”