Lies My Girlfriend Told Me
Page 20
“Your dad should be home in an hour or so,” Mom says to me.
“No hurry.”
She leaves and I balance Ethan between my legs in front of my laptop. Liana says, “I’ve been thinking about where we should go after the meet next Saturday. Besides Motel 6.”
“Damn,” I say. “And I already made a reservation.”
She grins. “I’d really like to go to Rainbow Alley. If you wouldn’t mind.”
“That’d be cool. They might have a drag show, or karaoke. I’ll check the schedule.”
She says, “Please don’t make me do karaoke. I’m so bad.”
“You mean I finally found your weakness?”
She laughs. “I have a gazillion weaknesses. I just don’t want you to see them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to think I’m perfect in every way. Ha!”
“Now my life’s goal is to find out everything you suck at.”
“It’s a long list,” she says.
I doubt that.
Ethan flails his rattle and bops me in the face. It makes Liana giggle, and then we’re both giggling. It’s like Mom said; she makes me feel like I could adapt—in a good way. Become more giving, complete, with someone willing to grow with me, and vice versa.
I don’t see Joss the rest of the week. I figure she’s ditching, still going through the pictures. Fixating on them, like they’re the only memories of her sister. I wish I could find a way to make Joss open up to me. Or to someone. I know you can’t help a person who doesn’t want help, but at what point do you give up trying? If it were me, I’d hope at least someone cared enough to never give up.
Friday, on my way home, I drop a sealed letter in the Durbins’ mailbox addressed to Joss. Hopefully, Jewell won’t open it. All I wrote is, I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk. XO Alix
Liana and I have been calling and Skyping every day, and when Saturday finally arrives I feel as hyper as a kid at Christmas. I ask Dad at breakfast if he’ll drop me off at Jeffco Stadium.
“What’s going on at the stadium?” Dad asks.
“A track invitational.”
He’s almost finished cleaning up from Ethan’s breakfast. “Mind if we go along? Your mom’s working, and it’d be nice to get out of the house.”
“Um, sure.” That wasn’t exactly the plan. But he wouldn’t intrude on Liana’s and my plans. Would he?
He adds, “If it’s an all-day meet, I’m not sure either one of us would last. A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, though.”
He read my mind.
When we arrive at the stadium, Dad heads straight for the Arvada section, but I stop. I search the parking lot and don’t see Liana’s car. “Are you coming?” Dad says, stepping up the bleachers. Across the track, the Spartan cheerleaders are carting their cooler, and Liana emerges from the pack. My stomach jumps. She shields her eyes, gazing across the track and up into bleachers. Looking for me, I know. As if a magnetic force pulls us together, our eyes meet. She sprints toward us and I call up to Dad, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
We haven’t seen each other in person for weeks. Liana’s not even guarded about hugging me, lifting me off my feet, and twirling me around. She’s strong. I know we both want to kiss, and it’s maddening that we feel the social pressure of not being able to.
“I was wondering if you were just a dream.” She holds me at arm’s length.
“All real.”
She holds me tight again and the world fades away. Then the announcer breaks through our bliss and Liana takes my hands. “Is there somewhere I can change after the meet? I don’t want to wear my cheerleading outfit to dinner and Rainbow Alley.”
“But there’s a drag show. You’ll fit right in.”
She shoves my shoulder playfully.
“You can change at my house,” I tell her.
“Good. Are you going to sit with Arvada or GW?”
I glance up into the stands. “My dad’s here, so I guess I have to sit with Arvada.”
“Where is he?” She follows my gaze up the stands, and then waves.
Dad waves back.
“Catch you after the meet.” Liana squeezes my hand, sending a shock wave through my body.
I clomp up the bleachers and plop next to Dad.
“Where does Liana go to school?” he asks.
“Greeley West.”
“Holy moly. That’s a drive.”
“Tell me about it.”
He says, “Do you want to sit over there?”
“Could we?”
He smiles. Then he gets up and heads down the bleachers with Ethan in tow, and we circle the track. Liana greets us with a beaming smile and my knees go weak.
The meet starts with the boys’ events. The 100 and 300 meters. My concentration is solely on Liana. She’s gotten more beautiful, more talented. I’ve missed her like crazy.
Dad turns to me and says, “Do you ever think about her?”
I am thinking about her.
“Okay, that’s a dumb question. Of course you do. But I wonder if Liana isn’t a rebound. Have you considered that?”
What is he…? Oh, Swanee. I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t cross my mind. But what Liana and I have is real. It has nothing to do with Swanee, and everything to do with us. Liana and I never talked about a rebound relationship—only one based on revenge. Are they the same? I don’t think so.
I could only commit to one person, unlike Swanee, who seemingly was able to switch her love on and off like a faucet.
When I don’t answer, Dad says, “Never mind. It’s your life. You have to learn these things on your own. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
She’s not a rebound. She may have been there when I needed her most, but that doesn’t make her a rebound. Does it?
Arvada wins the high jump and across the track our pep squad goes wild. My eyes stray to Betheny, doing split jumps and rustling her poms. She’s an awesome cheerleader, too. I wonder if I ever told her that. Now, of course, I’ll never get the chance.
Dad rubs his back and says, “I think that’s about it for us.” Ethan’s getting fussy for a bottle. “Are you going to call me when you’re ready to go?”
“Liana and I are going to dinner, and then Rainbow Alley. She’s driving.”
“How late will you be, do you think?”
“Not very. Rainbow Alley closes at nine.”
He squeezes my shoulder on the way down. As he’s retracing his steps around the track, I see Betheny jog over to say hi to him. She swoons over Ethan. It’s been months since she’s seen him, so he must look gigantic.
I should’ve followed Dad, since I need to use the restroom and it’s by the concession stands on the other side. I want to tell Liana I’ll be back, but she’s conferring with the squad. People are gathered around the bleachers near the concessions, eating and smoking. Joss is there.
“Hey, Joss,” I call to her.
She looks gaunt and pale. Grounding her cigarette in the dirt, she starts toward me.
“I need to…” I point to the restroom. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
When I come out, she’s gone. Then I see her over by the track. “Hi.” I come up beside her. “How are you?”
“Fuckin’ awesome.”
“Did you get my letter?”
“I got it.”
Silence. Then, out of nowhere, she says, “I was here when she died.”
“What? Where?”
“Here. At the track. She wanted me to time her, like I always did.”
My jaw unhinges. “You were here?”
She blinks at me. “Do you have a problem with earwax? She liked running on this track, since it’d give her an advantage at the state meet.” Joss returns her gaze to the field. “We climbed the fence. It was still dark, so the cops wouldn’t see her on the track. No one would. I’m the one who called 911.”
Wait a minute. “The story I got was that she was gone before anyone found her.”
Joss continues, “It was cold that day. I brought a thermos of coffee for me and a bottle of water for Swan. She did her stretching, then started running. She was in the zone. You know how she gets.”
Got, I think. “Then what?”
Joss stares into the middle distance. “I set the coffee down to find her stopwatch, and when I looked up, she was already on the opposite side of the track. On the ground. At first I thought she was just resting, so I yelled at her, ‘You’re losing time by sleeping, slacker.’ ” Joss’s voice goes hollow. “She didn’t move. So I called louder. I got up and walked across the field, thinking she was just faking it, and when I got there, she wasn’t breathing. I knew she had her cell because she always carried it, so I called 911, and they told me how to give her CPR.” She adds, “Pronounced dead on arrival.”
Oh my God. “Joss,” I say. “I’m sure there’s nothing you could’ve done. According to Mom, most people who have sudden cardiac arrests die instantly. Their heart just stops. CPR wouldn’t have brought her back.” Didn’t Mom say that? I think Joss needs to be released from the guilt. I touch her shoulder and say, “You can’t blame yourself.”
She stares at my hand, and then up at me. “I don’t.” From her pocket she removes half a joint and lights up. She inhales deeply, closing her eyes. If Joss was here… if she witnessed everything… that makes it ten times worse.
“Could you loan me a couple of dollars for a hot dog?” she says, “I’m starving.”
All I have is a twenty, which I was going to use to split dinner with Liana. I hand the bill to Joss and tell her, “Keep the change.” I’ll charge dinner.
She stuffs it in her back pocket and heads off. The concessions are swarmed. It must be lunchtime.
Suddenly, my eyes are covered from behind. “Three guesses,” Liana says softly in my ear. “And the first four don’t count.”
I smile and pivot. She takes both my hands again and I lean into her. Our attention is diverted by someone beside us, and the smell of mustard.
It’s Joss, back already.
“You remember Joss,” I say to Liana.
“I do,” she says. “Alix explained everything to me, but I have a question. Why did you text me on Swan’s cell for two weeks after she was dead?”
Joss curls a lip. “I don’t know what the f**k you’re talking about.”
I should confess. I need to. But not in front of Joss.
Joss slit-eyes both of us. Her eyes travel to our linked hands and back. “I hate you,” she snarls. “I hate both of you.”
Chapter 22
When the meet is finished and the parking lot begins to clear, Liana’s at her car, waiting for me. I trot over and we embrace, and then she kisses me so passionately, I feel I’m sinking into quicksand.
A couple of guys whistle at us, reminding me that the whole world isn’t ready to accept love for love’s sake. “Do you remember how to get to my house?” I ask Liana as we climb into her car.
“You’re permanently plugged into my GPS,” she says.
That gives me a thrill.
I tell her about Joss being at the stadium the day Swan died. Giving her CPR. Hearing the EMT pronounce Swan DOA.
A look of shock, and then one of dismay, crosses Liana’s eyes. “No one should have to go through that, especially your own sister.” She reaches over, takes my hand, and pulls it into her lap.
Every time she touches me, it’s like a beehive of activity all over my body.
Liana says, “I’ll light a votive candle for Joss to get through this.”
Which is sweet, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough.
When we get to my house, I tell Liana to park at the curb rather than in the driveway, just in case Mom’s home and has to take off for an emergency.
She’s already at the hospital. Dad’s in the kitchen and comes out to greet us. “How’d your team do?” he asks Liana.
“So-so. The girls won more events than the boys.”
Dad cuts a look at me and I remain impassive.
“We’re just going to change before we go out,” I tell him. I veer toward the stairs with Liana trailing behind.
Dad clears his throat.
Oh, for God’s sake. “I’ll wait here.” I roll my eyes as I pass her on the way down.
She takes her pink Victoria’s Secret carryall into my bedroom and closes the door.
“When and where did you two meet?” Dad asks. The timer dings on the bottle warmer and Dad moves back to the kitchen to lift Ethan out of his high chair.
“It’s kind of a long story.” It’s also awkward standing here, waiting for Liana to return.
Dad cradles Ethan and begins to feed him. “I have time.”
“No, you don’t. It truly is an epic saga.” One that will forever remain untold.
Thankfully, Liana’s a quick-change artist and emerges from my room. She looks awesome in everything, but tonight she’s wearing black jeans with an eyelet blouse.
My shredded jeans and sloppy tee will never do. I hate to leave Liana alone with Dad, but I tell her, “I’ll be fast.”
When I come down, Liana’s got Ethan in her arms and she and Dad are laughing. She’s so great—comfortable with everyone, and self-confident. Two things I’m not.
Dad gives me the requisite blah-blah: Don’t pick up strangers. Don’t drink and drive. For no reason at all, he asks, “Do you need any money?”
“No hurry.”
She leaves and I balance Ethan between my legs in front of my laptop. Liana says, “I’ve been thinking about where we should go after the meet next Saturday. Besides Motel 6.”
“Damn,” I say. “And I already made a reservation.”
She grins. “I’d really like to go to Rainbow Alley. If you wouldn’t mind.”
“That’d be cool. They might have a drag show, or karaoke. I’ll check the schedule.”
She says, “Please don’t make me do karaoke. I’m so bad.”
“You mean I finally found your weakness?”
She laughs. “I have a gazillion weaknesses. I just don’t want you to see them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to think I’m perfect in every way. Ha!”
“Now my life’s goal is to find out everything you suck at.”
“It’s a long list,” she says.
I doubt that.
Ethan flails his rattle and bops me in the face. It makes Liana giggle, and then we’re both giggling. It’s like Mom said; she makes me feel like I could adapt—in a good way. Become more giving, complete, with someone willing to grow with me, and vice versa.
I don’t see Joss the rest of the week. I figure she’s ditching, still going through the pictures. Fixating on them, like they’re the only memories of her sister. I wish I could find a way to make Joss open up to me. Or to someone. I know you can’t help a person who doesn’t want help, but at what point do you give up trying? If it were me, I’d hope at least someone cared enough to never give up.
Friday, on my way home, I drop a sealed letter in the Durbins’ mailbox addressed to Joss. Hopefully, Jewell won’t open it. All I wrote is, I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk. XO Alix
Liana and I have been calling and Skyping every day, and when Saturday finally arrives I feel as hyper as a kid at Christmas. I ask Dad at breakfast if he’ll drop me off at Jeffco Stadium.
“What’s going on at the stadium?” Dad asks.
“A track invitational.”
He’s almost finished cleaning up from Ethan’s breakfast. “Mind if we go along? Your mom’s working, and it’d be nice to get out of the house.”
“Um, sure.” That wasn’t exactly the plan. But he wouldn’t intrude on Liana’s and my plans. Would he?
He adds, “If it’s an all-day meet, I’m not sure either one of us would last. A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, though.”
He read my mind.
When we arrive at the stadium, Dad heads straight for the Arvada section, but I stop. I search the parking lot and don’t see Liana’s car. “Are you coming?” Dad says, stepping up the bleachers. Across the track, the Spartan cheerleaders are carting their cooler, and Liana emerges from the pack. My stomach jumps. She shields her eyes, gazing across the track and up into bleachers. Looking for me, I know. As if a magnetic force pulls us together, our eyes meet. She sprints toward us and I call up to Dad, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
We haven’t seen each other in person for weeks. Liana’s not even guarded about hugging me, lifting me off my feet, and twirling me around. She’s strong. I know we both want to kiss, and it’s maddening that we feel the social pressure of not being able to.
“I was wondering if you were just a dream.” She holds me at arm’s length.
“All real.”
She holds me tight again and the world fades away. Then the announcer breaks through our bliss and Liana takes my hands. “Is there somewhere I can change after the meet? I don’t want to wear my cheerleading outfit to dinner and Rainbow Alley.”
“But there’s a drag show. You’ll fit right in.”
She shoves my shoulder playfully.
“You can change at my house,” I tell her.
“Good. Are you going to sit with Arvada or GW?”
I glance up into the stands. “My dad’s here, so I guess I have to sit with Arvada.”
“Where is he?” She follows my gaze up the stands, and then waves.
Dad waves back.
“Catch you after the meet.” Liana squeezes my hand, sending a shock wave through my body.
I clomp up the bleachers and plop next to Dad.
“Where does Liana go to school?” he asks.
“Greeley West.”
“Holy moly. That’s a drive.”
“Tell me about it.”
He says, “Do you want to sit over there?”
“Could we?”
He smiles. Then he gets up and heads down the bleachers with Ethan in tow, and we circle the track. Liana greets us with a beaming smile and my knees go weak.
The meet starts with the boys’ events. The 100 and 300 meters. My concentration is solely on Liana. She’s gotten more beautiful, more talented. I’ve missed her like crazy.
Dad turns to me and says, “Do you ever think about her?”
I am thinking about her.
“Okay, that’s a dumb question. Of course you do. But I wonder if Liana isn’t a rebound. Have you considered that?”
What is he…? Oh, Swanee. I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t cross my mind. But what Liana and I have is real. It has nothing to do with Swanee, and everything to do with us. Liana and I never talked about a rebound relationship—only one based on revenge. Are they the same? I don’t think so.
I could only commit to one person, unlike Swanee, who seemingly was able to switch her love on and off like a faucet.
When I don’t answer, Dad says, “Never mind. It’s your life. You have to learn these things on your own. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
She’s not a rebound. She may have been there when I needed her most, but that doesn’t make her a rebound. Does it?
Arvada wins the high jump and across the track our pep squad goes wild. My eyes stray to Betheny, doing split jumps and rustling her poms. She’s an awesome cheerleader, too. I wonder if I ever told her that. Now, of course, I’ll never get the chance.
Dad rubs his back and says, “I think that’s about it for us.” Ethan’s getting fussy for a bottle. “Are you going to call me when you’re ready to go?”
“Liana and I are going to dinner, and then Rainbow Alley. She’s driving.”
“How late will you be, do you think?”
“Not very. Rainbow Alley closes at nine.”
He squeezes my shoulder on the way down. As he’s retracing his steps around the track, I see Betheny jog over to say hi to him. She swoons over Ethan. It’s been months since she’s seen him, so he must look gigantic.
I should’ve followed Dad, since I need to use the restroom and it’s by the concession stands on the other side. I want to tell Liana I’ll be back, but she’s conferring with the squad. People are gathered around the bleachers near the concessions, eating and smoking. Joss is there.
“Hey, Joss,” I call to her.
She looks gaunt and pale. Grounding her cigarette in the dirt, she starts toward me.
“I need to…” I point to the restroom. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
When I come out, she’s gone. Then I see her over by the track. “Hi.” I come up beside her. “How are you?”
“Fuckin’ awesome.”
“Did you get my letter?”
“I got it.”
Silence. Then, out of nowhere, she says, “I was here when she died.”
“What? Where?”
“Here. At the track. She wanted me to time her, like I always did.”
My jaw unhinges. “You were here?”
She blinks at me. “Do you have a problem with earwax? She liked running on this track, since it’d give her an advantage at the state meet.” Joss returns her gaze to the field. “We climbed the fence. It was still dark, so the cops wouldn’t see her on the track. No one would. I’m the one who called 911.”
Wait a minute. “The story I got was that she was gone before anyone found her.”
Joss continues, “It was cold that day. I brought a thermos of coffee for me and a bottle of water for Swan. She did her stretching, then started running. She was in the zone. You know how she gets.”
Got, I think. “Then what?”
Joss stares into the middle distance. “I set the coffee down to find her stopwatch, and when I looked up, she was already on the opposite side of the track. On the ground. At first I thought she was just resting, so I yelled at her, ‘You’re losing time by sleeping, slacker.’ ” Joss’s voice goes hollow. “She didn’t move. So I called louder. I got up and walked across the field, thinking she was just faking it, and when I got there, she wasn’t breathing. I knew she had her cell because she always carried it, so I called 911, and they told me how to give her CPR.” She adds, “Pronounced dead on arrival.”
Oh my God. “Joss,” I say. “I’m sure there’s nothing you could’ve done. According to Mom, most people who have sudden cardiac arrests die instantly. Their heart just stops. CPR wouldn’t have brought her back.” Didn’t Mom say that? I think Joss needs to be released from the guilt. I touch her shoulder and say, “You can’t blame yourself.”
She stares at my hand, and then up at me. “I don’t.” From her pocket she removes half a joint and lights up. She inhales deeply, closing her eyes. If Joss was here… if she witnessed everything… that makes it ten times worse.
“Could you loan me a couple of dollars for a hot dog?” she says, “I’m starving.”
All I have is a twenty, which I was going to use to split dinner with Liana. I hand the bill to Joss and tell her, “Keep the change.” I’ll charge dinner.
She stuffs it in her back pocket and heads off. The concessions are swarmed. It must be lunchtime.
Suddenly, my eyes are covered from behind. “Three guesses,” Liana says softly in my ear. “And the first four don’t count.”
I smile and pivot. She takes both my hands again and I lean into her. Our attention is diverted by someone beside us, and the smell of mustard.
It’s Joss, back already.
“You remember Joss,” I say to Liana.
“I do,” she says. “Alix explained everything to me, but I have a question. Why did you text me on Swan’s cell for two weeks after she was dead?”
Joss curls a lip. “I don’t know what the f**k you’re talking about.”
I should confess. I need to. But not in front of Joss.
Joss slit-eyes both of us. Her eyes travel to our linked hands and back. “I hate you,” she snarls. “I hate both of you.”
Chapter 22
When the meet is finished and the parking lot begins to clear, Liana’s at her car, waiting for me. I trot over and we embrace, and then she kisses me so passionately, I feel I’m sinking into quicksand.
A couple of guys whistle at us, reminding me that the whole world isn’t ready to accept love for love’s sake. “Do you remember how to get to my house?” I ask Liana as we climb into her car.
“You’re permanently plugged into my GPS,” she says.
That gives me a thrill.
I tell her about Joss being at the stadium the day Swan died. Giving her CPR. Hearing the EMT pronounce Swan DOA.
A look of shock, and then one of dismay, crosses Liana’s eyes. “No one should have to go through that, especially your own sister.” She reaches over, takes my hand, and pulls it into her lap.
Every time she touches me, it’s like a beehive of activity all over my body.
Liana says, “I’ll light a votive candle for Joss to get through this.”
Which is sweet, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough.
When we get to my house, I tell Liana to park at the curb rather than in the driveway, just in case Mom’s home and has to take off for an emergency.
She’s already at the hospital. Dad’s in the kitchen and comes out to greet us. “How’d your team do?” he asks Liana.
“So-so. The girls won more events than the boys.”
Dad cuts a look at me and I remain impassive.
“We’re just going to change before we go out,” I tell him. I veer toward the stairs with Liana trailing behind.
Dad clears his throat.
Oh, for God’s sake. “I’ll wait here.” I roll my eyes as I pass her on the way down.
She takes her pink Victoria’s Secret carryall into my bedroom and closes the door.
“When and where did you two meet?” Dad asks. The timer dings on the bottle warmer and Dad moves back to the kitchen to lift Ethan out of his high chair.
“It’s kind of a long story.” It’s also awkward standing here, waiting for Liana to return.
Dad cradles Ethan and begins to feed him. “I have time.”
“No, you don’t. It truly is an epic saga.” One that will forever remain untold.
Thankfully, Liana’s a quick-change artist and emerges from my room. She looks awesome in everything, but tonight she’s wearing black jeans with an eyelet blouse.
My shredded jeans and sloppy tee will never do. I hate to leave Liana alone with Dad, but I tell her, “I’ll be fast.”
When I come down, Liana’s got Ethan in her arms and she and Dad are laughing. She’s so great—comfortable with everyone, and self-confident. Two things I’m not.
Dad gives me the requisite blah-blah: Don’t pick up strangers. Don’t drink and drive. For no reason at all, he asks, “Do you need any money?”
