Perfect Lie
Page 17
“It’s fine. Really.” I glanced away from Abel’s questioning gaze.
Abel leaned in toward my free ear, his lips brushing over it and his breath tickling me as he whispered, “What are we doing Friday?”
I put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet and pushed back against his chest.
“Is that him?” he asked.
My eyes widened in warning. He took another drink as I smiled.
“You have company?” Marie asked. “Did I call at a bad time?”
“No. Just my roommate’s boyfriend.” I glared at him, and he headed into the living room and sat down on the center cushion then turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll call you if I need you. I’m fine. I swear.”
“All right. You have my number.” She hung up, and I groaned. Marie was probably the most unprofessional therapist on the planet, but I liked that about her. She didn’t have kids of her own, and she liked to mother me, which was kind of nice, even though it could be annoying as hell. I tossed my phone onto my bed then went to the living room and sat back down on the couch in the same spot I’d occupied before. Abel adjusted himself so that we were once again pressed side to side.
“He has trust issues, huh?”
“Huh?”
“I get it. If there was a guy like me walking around my girl’s house, I probably would lose my mind too.”
It sunk in that he thought I’d been talking to Brock, and I didn’t correct him. What was I supposed to say? That my overbearing therapist likes to call me randomly and tell me about her life?
“And what kind of guy is that?”
Abel ignored me as he picked up the remote and flipped through the movie channels. He stopped on a scary movie that was showing a man getting stabbed in the shoulder as blood sprayed across the screen. I cringed and curled closer into his side.
“You scared?” He smirked as his arm went over my shoulders.
“I’m not a fan of violence.” I tried to focus on the television and not the places where our bodies touched; the closeness sent waves of heat through his shirt, which I still wore.
“Aw…I won’t let them come through the screen and get you,” he replied sarcastically, and I smacked him lightly on the chest as I settled into his side. The killer wiped the blood from his blade on his shirt and set off toward a home in the woods that vaguely reminded me of Abel’s work in progress. He was met by three guys in varsity jackets who challenged him to a fight in their inebriated state. I turned my head, hiding my face against Abel’s neck, my knees turned to the side on his lap.
“What’s happening?” I asked, as I breathed in the scent of his Polo Sport.
“Jock number one took a knife to the jugular,” he said with a laugh, as his free hand fell on my bare knee on his lap. “Number two is putting up a fight, but he’s doing it all wrong. He’s…aw…come on.”
“What happened?”
“I think he just lost his football scholarship. Number three swung and missed. He’s trying to run. Ohhh!” He yelled, causing me to jump. “He didn’t make it.” His thumb tapped against my skin, and my heart beat in time with his absentminded touch.
“Can I look?” I started to turn my head, but Abel’s fingers came up and turned my cheek back into the crook of his neck.
“I don’t think you want to see this part.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Abel cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat as his hand went back to my leg. “He’s gonna kill a couple on the couch.”
“What’s happening?” I asked, and I felt his body shiver slightly as my breath blew over his neck.
“They’re making out.” His voice was a quiet whisper as I felt his pulse increase under my fingertips. “He’s…” He cleared his throat. “Sliding his hand up her thigh.” His thumb glided lightly back and forth over the inside of my knee. “The killer is watching from inside the doorway. Her eyes are closed, and the guy’s slipping his hand under her skirt.” His face moved a fraction of an inch until our cheeks were pressed against each other’s and his hot breath blew over my ear. I heard the panting and the quiet moans from the movie, and I contemplated turning to watch, but I was frozen against Abel, oddly enjoying his play by play of the scene and not sure seeing it for myself would do anything to make this situation any less intense. “She likes it,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” I whispered back, my voice coming out breathy.
“Yeah.” His fingers gripped my lower thigh more tightly.
“What are they doing now?” I asked, as my hand slid up from his chest to the side of his neck.
“He’s kissing her.” His face pulled back an inch, putting our mouths closer to each other. “She’s moving against his hand.” He swallowed hard, and I stayed pinned against him, motionless, as I listened to the sounds of lovemaking, their moans deafening in the small space. “He’s taking off her panties and sliding them down her legs.”
My eyes closed as I was entranced by his voice, my mouth suddenly dry. I heard the clicking of the remote as Abel turned down the volume just as the female became more vocal in her pleasure. Abel’s hand slid a few inches up my thigh to the edge of the shorts I was wearing. “She’s spreading her legs for him, and he’s sliding between them. Her hands are undoing his jeans.”
My breathing grew ragged, and my fingers gripped his shirt collar. “Yeah?”
“Yeah…” His face angled toward mine, and his breath blew over my lips as our foreheads pressed against each other’s. His hand slipped up and down the outside of my thigh, sending tingles vibrating through my skin with each pass. “And now he’s sliding into her.”
“You’re not even looking at the screen,” I said with a laugh, and my eyes opened as I glanced at the television. The movie was rolling the credits, and I pushed against Abel’s chest to back him away from me as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You’re such a liar!”
“You were enjoying yourself. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he joked, and smacked his chest.
“You ass**le! You didn’t have to make fun of me!”
Abel looked at me. His eyes started on my thighs, glided over my chest, and traveled up to meet my gaze. “You really are naïve, Kettle. I should go.” He motioned to stand, and I grabbed his arm to keep him from getting up.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look down at me like Trish does,” I said. “Neither of you knows the first damn thing about me. I didn’t grow up in a f**king bubble, and my life wasn’t sailboats and designer drugs like you two.You’re the ones who are naïve. You like to party every day and f**k a new stranger each night like you’re so badass. You don’t have the first clue.”
“You think you’re badass, Lie?” Abel leaned closer until I smelled the minty toothpaste on his breath. I refused to move away because I knew that was exactly what he expected me to do. “You want to know what it’s like to be on a sailboat with me?” He smirked, but it wasn’t playful, and his voice was low and menacing. “This…” He pulled up his shirt to show me the hotwhite scar over his ribcage. “This is from the last time I was on a boat—me, my mom, my dad. I was the only one who came back home that day; only home was gone for me. My whole world was gone, so yeah, I can teach you about sailboats and drugs and f**king some random stranger just to feel something—anything other than emptiness. I can show you all that, little girl.”
I leaned away from him, stunned into silence by his confession and mortified that I’d brought up such a painful memory for him.
“II’m so sorry, Abel. I didn’t have any idea.”
“That’s right. You have no idea.” He stood and looked down over me with what could be described only as disgust as he headed for the front door. He yanked it open, and it slammed against the wall before banging shut behind him.
Chapter Twelve
Anarchy
I stared at the television as tears formed in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I sat like that until the credits rolled during the next movie and my eyes ran dry. I took a scaldinghot shower to remove any remnants of Abel’s touch. I was pulling on sweatpants and Brock’s anarchy Tshirt, which always made me feel a little closer to him.
Trish had come home and locked herself in her room, which was fine by me because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I knew I should call Marie. She would answer on the first ring and wouldn’t judge me, but I didn’t care anymore.
The wall had gone back up, and I no longer gave a f**k about anything. It hurt less that way. I was used to being pushed around and knocked down, but now I had become the bully. I’d played my part too well and hurt one of the few people who saw the real me.
The world continued to spin; the clock ticked; and life moved forward with no destination or goal. As I sat down at the kitchen table and ate a bowl of cereal, Trish finally emerged from her room, looking stunning as usual in a paleyellow sundress that dipped dangerously low on her chest and fell just below her ass. Her milehigh strappy sandals made her look like a supermodel ready for the runway.
“What happened to you?” she asked, as she looked over my damp and tangled hair, my face makeup free and puffy from crying. “Guy trouble?”
I glanced up at her, debating whether to give her the usual canned sarcastic response or open up and offer her a sliver of truth. I didn’t have time to decide, because a knock came at the door.
“Speaking of trouble,” she called out in a singsong voice as she went to open the door.
“You look incredible,” Abel said from the hallway, and Trish giggled. “Good enough to eat.”
I nearly chocked on my Cocoa Puffs.
“I just have to grab my purse,” she replied then headed to her room as Abel stepped into view, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His eyes were glazed over and red, which only made their blue green color stand out more.
He looked past me, as if I weren’t even there, and smiled broadly as Trish reemerged. His hand slid to the back of her neck, and he pulled her lips to his. I could only stare as they made out a few feet away from me.
“Don’t wait up,” Trish called out, and wiped her finger under her lower lip to make sure her lip gloss wasn’t smeared. She took Abel by the hand and pulled him toward the door. As soon as they were gone, I dropped my spoon, my appetite ruined.
The world spun.
The clock ticked.
Life moved forward.
The only problem was that I was stuck in the past. I refused to let myself move forward and live. I survived, and right now that was all I could do.
I went to my room and grabbed my Kindle and read until my eyes went unfocused; I checked the clock every few minutes. By four in the morning, I debated going grocery shopping. I was craving an omelet. I settled for a quick walk to the convenience store and picked up some breakfast supplies. By the time I got back to the house, my appetite had vanished.
Around five I decided to lie on my bed in the dark and find shapes in the plaster smudges in the ceiling.
A bang and shuffle, bang and shuffle came from the front door.
“Shh. You’re going to wake up Lie,” Trish whispered with a laugh.
“She’s a big girl. She’ll get over it,” Abel panted, and it sounded as if they were making out and tripping their way to Trish’s room. I heard the distinct sound of a zipper coming down and a thud as Abel’s back hit the wall across the hall from my room. I pushed up on my elbows as glassy, empty eyes stared back at me through the open door to my bedroom. My gaze traveled lower to his hand, which was tangled in Trish’s blond hair as she knelt in front of him.
I rolled over and covered my face with my pillow as fresh tears pricked my eyes. Abel muttered something, but it was muffled by my pillow, and the noises stopped with the clicking of Trish’s bedroom door.
My thoughts were a scrambled mess of memories from the past and present. I tossed and turned until the sun splashed lines of light through the blinds.
I got up and got ready for class, tiptoeing through the hall so I wouldn’t wake anyone, but as I stepped out of the bathroom, Abel was waiting outside the door. I stared at the floor between us and stepped around him as he went inside.
I left through the front door before he came back out. Campus was two blocks to the left and three down. I enjoyed the walk on most days because it gave me time to think, but this morning I wanted to shut everything out.
I had only one class with Trish, and that was on Thursdays, so I knew I could avoid the horrid details of her night with Abel for at least a few hours. It didn’t make a difference, though, because my brain zeroed in and focused on what could have happened, and that was probably much worse than the reality of the situation.
I felt bad for what I’d said to Abel that had sparked his memory of the death of his parents. That was what bothered me so much. That was what I told myself as I picked at my burger from the Stop Shop, delaying the inevitable trip home. All my worrying was for nothing as the apartment sat empty when I arrived.
I decided to make the best of my alone time and wash the dirty laundry. I was folding it and putting it away when the front door finally opened.
Trish arrived with Abel, Adam, and Sean. They were in mid-conversation as they entered, and I turned my back to my door as I continued to organize my laundry. The guys made their way to the living room, and Trish stopped at my room.
“Huge party at Sigma Chi tonight. Wear blue.”
Abel leaned in toward my free ear, his lips brushing over it and his breath tickling me as he whispered, “What are we doing Friday?”
I put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet and pushed back against his chest.
“Is that him?” he asked.
My eyes widened in warning. He took another drink as I smiled.
“You have company?” Marie asked. “Did I call at a bad time?”
“No. Just my roommate’s boyfriend.” I glared at him, and he headed into the living room and sat down on the center cushion then turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll call you if I need you. I’m fine. I swear.”
“All right. You have my number.” She hung up, and I groaned. Marie was probably the most unprofessional therapist on the planet, but I liked that about her. She didn’t have kids of her own, and she liked to mother me, which was kind of nice, even though it could be annoying as hell. I tossed my phone onto my bed then went to the living room and sat back down on the couch in the same spot I’d occupied before. Abel adjusted himself so that we were once again pressed side to side.
“He has trust issues, huh?”
“Huh?”
“I get it. If there was a guy like me walking around my girl’s house, I probably would lose my mind too.”
It sunk in that he thought I’d been talking to Brock, and I didn’t correct him. What was I supposed to say? That my overbearing therapist likes to call me randomly and tell me about her life?
“And what kind of guy is that?”
Abel ignored me as he picked up the remote and flipped through the movie channels. He stopped on a scary movie that was showing a man getting stabbed in the shoulder as blood sprayed across the screen. I cringed and curled closer into his side.
“You scared?” He smirked as his arm went over my shoulders.
“I’m not a fan of violence.” I tried to focus on the television and not the places where our bodies touched; the closeness sent waves of heat through his shirt, which I still wore.
“Aw…I won’t let them come through the screen and get you,” he replied sarcastically, and I smacked him lightly on the chest as I settled into his side. The killer wiped the blood from his blade on his shirt and set off toward a home in the woods that vaguely reminded me of Abel’s work in progress. He was met by three guys in varsity jackets who challenged him to a fight in their inebriated state. I turned my head, hiding my face against Abel’s neck, my knees turned to the side on his lap.
“What’s happening?” I asked, as I breathed in the scent of his Polo Sport.
“Jock number one took a knife to the jugular,” he said with a laugh, as his free hand fell on my bare knee on his lap. “Number two is putting up a fight, but he’s doing it all wrong. He’s…aw…come on.”
“What happened?”
“I think he just lost his football scholarship. Number three swung and missed. He’s trying to run. Ohhh!” He yelled, causing me to jump. “He didn’t make it.” His thumb tapped against my skin, and my heart beat in time with his absentminded touch.
“Can I look?” I started to turn my head, but Abel’s fingers came up and turned my cheek back into the crook of his neck.
“I don’t think you want to see this part.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Abel cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat as his hand went back to my leg. “He’s gonna kill a couple on the couch.”
“What’s happening?” I asked, and I felt his body shiver slightly as my breath blew over his neck.
“They’re making out.” His voice was a quiet whisper as I felt his pulse increase under my fingertips. “He’s…” He cleared his throat. “Sliding his hand up her thigh.” His thumb glided lightly back and forth over the inside of my knee. “The killer is watching from inside the doorway. Her eyes are closed, and the guy’s slipping his hand under her skirt.” His face moved a fraction of an inch until our cheeks were pressed against each other’s and his hot breath blew over my ear. I heard the panting and the quiet moans from the movie, and I contemplated turning to watch, but I was frozen against Abel, oddly enjoying his play by play of the scene and not sure seeing it for myself would do anything to make this situation any less intense. “She likes it,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” I whispered back, my voice coming out breathy.
“Yeah.” His fingers gripped my lower thigh more tightly.
“What are they doing now?” I asked, as my hand slid up from his chest to the side of his neck.
“He’s kissing her.” His face pulled back an inch, putting our mouths closer to each other. “She’s moving against his hand.” He swallowed hard, and I stayed pinned against him, motionless, as I listened to the sounds of lovemaking, their moans deafening in the small space. “He’s taking off her panties and sliding them down her legs.”
My eyes closed as I was entranced by his voice, my mouth suddenly dry. I heard the clicking of the remote as Abel turned down the volume just as the female became more vocal in her pleasure. Abel’s hand slid a few inches up my thigh to the edge of the shorts I was wearing. “She’s spreading her legs for him, and he’s sliding between them. Her hands are undoing his jeans.”
My breathing grew ragged, and my fingers gripped his shirt collar. “Yeah?”
“Yeah…” His face angled toward mine, and his breath blew over my lips as our foreheads pressed against each other’s. His hand slipped up and down the outside of my thigh, sending tingles vibrating through my skin with each pass. “And now he’s sliding into her.”
“You’re not even looking at the screen,” I said with a laugh, and my eyes opened as I glanced at the television. The movie was rolling the credits, and I pushed against Abel’s chest to back him away from me as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You’re such a liar!”
“You were enjoying yourself. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he joked, and smacked his chest.
“You ass**le! You didn’t have to make fun of me!”
Abel looked at me. His eyes started on my thighs, glided over my chest, and traveled up to meet my gaze. “You really are naïve, Kettle. I should go.” He motioned to stand, and I grabbed his arm to keep him from getting up.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look down at me like Trish does,” I said. “Neither of you knows the first damn thing about me. I didn’t grow up in a f**king bubble, and my life wasn’t sailboats and designer drugs like you two.You’re the ones who are naïve. You like to party every day and f**k a new stranger each night like you’re so badass. You don’t have the first clue.”
“You think you’re badass, Lie?” Abel leaned closer until I smelled the minty toothpaste on his breath. I refused to move away because I knew that was exactly what he expected me to do. “You want to know what it’s like to be on a sailboat with me?” He smirked, but it wasn’t playful, and his voice was low and menacing. “This…” He pulled up his shirt to show me the hotwhite scar over his ribcage. “This is from the last time I was on a boat—me, my mom, my dad. I was the only one who came back home that day; only home was gone for me. My whole world was gone, so yeah, I can teach you about sailboats and drugs and f**king some random stranger just to feel something—anything other than emptiness. I can show you all that, little girl.”
I leaned away from him, stunned into silence by his confession and mortified that I’d brought up such a painful memory for him.
“II’m so sorry, Abel. I didn’t have any idea.”
“That’s right. You have no idea.” He stood and looked down over me with what could be described only as disgust as he headed for the front door. He yanked it open, and it slammed against the wall before banging shut behind him.
Chapter Twelve
Anarchy
I stared at the television as tears formed in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I sat like that until the credits rolled during the next movie and my eyes ran dry. I took a scaldinghot shower to remove any remnants of Abel’s touch. I was pulling on sweatpants and Brock’s anarchy Tshirt, which always made me feel a little closer to him.
Trish had come home and locked herself in her room, which was fine by me because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I knew I should call Marie. She would answer on the first ring and wouldn’t judge me, but I didn’t care anymore.
The wall had gone back up, and I no longer gave a f**k about anything. It hurt less that way. I was used to being pushed around and knocked down, but now I had become the bully. I’d played my part too well and hurt one of the few people who saw the real me.
The world continued to spin; the clock ticked; and life moved forward with no destination or goal. As I sat down at the kitchen table and ate a bowl of cereal, Trish finally emerged from her room, looking stunning as usual in a paleyellow sundress that dipped dangerously low on her chest and fell just below her ass. Her milehigh strappy sandals made her look like a supermodel ready for the runway.
“What happened to you?” she asked, as she looked over my damp and tangled hair, my face makeup free and puffy from crying. “Guy trouble?”
I glanced up at her, debating whether to give her the usual canned sarcastic response or open up and offer her a sliver of truth. I didn’t have time to decide, because a knock came at the door.
“Speaking of trouble,” she called out in a singsong voice as she went to open the door.
“You look incredible,” Abel said from the hallway, and Trish giggled. “Good enough to eat.”
I nearly chocked on my Cocoa Puffs.
“I just have to grab my purse,” she replied then headed to her room as Abel stepped into view, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His eyes were glazed over and red, which only made their blue green color stand out more.
He looked past me, as if I weren’t even there, and smiled broadly as Trish reemerged. His hand slid to the back of her neck, and he pulled her lips to his. I could only stare as they made out a few feet away from me.
“Don’t wait up,” Trish called out, and wiped her finger under her lower lip to make sure her lip gloss wasn’t smeared. She took Abel by the hand and pulled him toward the door. As soon as they were gone, I dropped my spoon, my appetite ruined.
The world spun.
The clock ticked.
Life moved forward.
The only problem was that I was stuck in the past. I refused to let myself move forward and live. I survived, and right now that was all I could do.
I went to my room and grabbed my Kindle and read until my eyes went unfocused; I checked the clock every few minutes. By four in the morning, I debated going grocery shopping. I was craving an omelet. I settled for a quick walk to the convenience store and picked up some breakfast supplies. By the time I got back to the house, my appetite had vanished.
Around five I decided to lie on my bed in the dark and find shapes in the plaster smudges in the ceiling.
A bang and shuffle, bang and shuffle came from the front door.
“Shh. You’re going to wake up Lie,” Trish whispered with a laugh.
“She’s a big girl. She’ll get over it,” Abel panted, and it sounded as if they were making out and tripping their way to Trish’s room. I heard the distinct sound of a zipper coming down and a thud as Abel’s back hit the wall across the hall from my room. I pushed up on my elbows as glassy, empty eyes stared back at me through the open door to my bedroom. My gaze traveled lower to his hand, which was tangled in Trish’s blond hair as she knelt in front of him.
I rolled over and covered my face with my pillow as fresh tears pricked my eyes. Abel muttered something, but it was muffled by my pillow, and the noises stopped with the clicking of Trish’s bedroom door.
My thoughts were a scrambled mess of memories from the past and present. I tossed and turned until the sun splashed lines of light through the blinds.
I got up and got ready for class, tiptoeing through the hall so I wouldn’t wake anyone, but as I stepped out of the bathroom, Abel was waiting outside the door. I stared at the floor between us and stepped around him as he went inside.
I left through the front door before he came back out. Campus was two blocks to the left and three down. I enjoyed the walk on most days because it gave me time to think, but this morning I wanted to shut everything out.
I had only one class with Trish, and that was on Thursdays, so I knew I could avoid the horrid details of her night with Abel for at least a few hours. It didn’t make a difference, though, because my brain zeroed in and focused on what could have happened, and that was probably much worse than the reality of the situation.
I felt bad for what I’d said to Abel that had sparked his memory of the death of his parents. That was what bothered me so much. That was what I told myself as I picked at my burger from the Stop Shop, delaying the inevitable trip home. All my worrying was for nothing as the apartment sat empty when I arrived.
I decided to make the best of my alone time and wash the dirty laundry. I was folding it and putting it away when the front door finally opened.
Trish arrived with Abel, Adam, and Sean. They were in mid-conversation as they entered, and I turned my back to my door as I continued to organize my laundry. The guys made their way to the living room, and Trish stopped at my room.
“Huge party at Sigma Chi tonight. Wear blue.”
