Half Truths: An Opposites Attract Romance

by Rachael Brownell

  “I’m joking, Harley. Calm down. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  He must have confused the shock on my face for offense. I don’t correct him, waving my hand in the air as if it’s no big deal and find a way to change the subject.

  “What about you? What did your parents do?”

  “My father was in real estate, and my mother was involved with several non-profits and did a lot of charity work.”

  You would expect him to sound proud of his parents, but he doesn’t. There’s a level of disgust in his voice that confuses me. There’s nothing in Daphne’s file that says her parents were anything but loving, that her family was anything but perfect.

  Although, anything can appear perfect on paper if you want it to. Maybe that was the plan all along. Appearances are everything to some people.

  “They sound like they were wonderful people,” I note, forcing a smile on my face.

  His smile looks forced as well when he replies, “They were.”

  He’s lying. I wonder if he realizes he’s horrible at it. That he has a tell. His forehead wrinkles, and no matter how cheerful his voice sounds, it’s clear he doesn’t agree with the words coming out of his mouth.

  “And Daphne? What was she like before she spiraled?”

  I probably shouldn’t be asking about her. It feels wrong, but she refuses to talk to me and I’m not getting anywhere with her, so it can’t hurt. Plus, talking about his family includes his sister, and it should be natural for me to ask.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but she was the sweetest girl. Big into sports. She was a star soccer and volleyball player. Always active. Smart too. I should have known something bigger was going on when her grades started to slip. She’s been a straight A student all her life.”

  Placing my hand on his, I find myself consoling him like I would any other family member. “It’s not your fault. She chose to travel down that dark path. You didn’t force her to make the choices she did, and you couldn’t have prevented this from happening.”

  Lacing our fingers together, Alex doesn’t reply right away. “I may not have been able to prevent this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel responsible. She’s my little sister. I will always try and protect her from things like this. From the ugly in this world. From people who don’t deserve her. From the truth that might destroy her.”

  The truth.

  Aren’t we all trying to protect one another from the truth? Still, I find myself giving advice that I refuse to follow myself.

  “Sometimes the truth is the only thing that can set you free.”

  The conversation fades away as Alex and I stare into each other’s eyes. I’m trying to decide how much I want to divulge to him. How much of my own truth I can share without feeling exposed or at risk. Not of getting hurt by him but at risk of destroying everything I’ve built to protect.

  Our livelihood.

  “What’s your truth, Harley?” he finally asks. I knew he would. If he didn’t, I was going to ask him.

  “I’m not ready to share it with you.”

  “How about a half-truth?”

  “And what is that exactly?”

  “A single statement. There has to be some truth to it, but you don’t have to share the whole truth. Think of it as a true statement riddled with omission or a lie making it only partially true.”

  This conversation is dangerous. I could tell him a multitude of half-truths and not blink. They’re what help me survive.

  “You don’t have to tell me which is which,” he continues. “Want me to start?”

  Nodding, I’m eager to hear his half-truth. Will I be able to tell which part is the truth and which is a lie?

  “I came here to get my sister help.”

  “How is any part of that statement not true?” I ask, confused. I know for a fact that he’s here because Daphne needed help.

  “Your turn.”

  Ugh. “Fine. I moved here for work.”

  Take that. Moving here for work is only partially true. I don’t mention that I was running from my mother.

  That’s when it hits me. Alex’s half-truth. He didn’t choose San Diego because we have the best treatment center. Yes, his sister needs help, but he’s here for another reason. He picked us for a reason.

  “I think I get it now,” I state, breaking eye contact when the waiter approaches with our lunch.

  “Want to do another one?”

  Yes and no. I want to know more. It makes me wonder if his half-truths will help me figure out who he really is, why he’s really here, and in the end, if it’s worth it to risk everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “One a day,” I state, stabbing my salad with my fork.

  “That means you have to talk to me every day,” he points out.

  “So be it,” I reply, shoving the leafy greens in my mouth.

  Alex nods, a sinister smirk on his face. He won. He got what he wanted. A chance to get to know me. Half of me, at least. The part that I want him to know. As long as he doesn’t put the pieces together, I’m not actually risking as much as I thought getting close to him.

  One thing is for sure, though. I need to talk to Vivian on Monday and officially resign as Daphne’s counselor. We may not be crossing any lines, but that doesn’t mean we won’t at some point, and getting to know him, asking about his sister, makes me uncomfortable. I’d hate for him to think I’m using him to get close to her, or vice versa.

  Walking back to where we left Phoenix, Alex takes hold of my hand and I let him. It feels natural and causes my stomach to flip flop the closer we get. My heart is practically beating out of my chest until I spot Phoenix running toward us, his shirt tossed over his shoulder, bag dangling from his arm, and sand flying behind him.

  I attempt to pull away from Alex, but he holds on tight, giving my hand a squeeze as if to say it’s going to be okay. Phoenix doesn’t even seem to notice we’re holding hands as he gives up a play-by-play of the last hour with his friends as we all walk back to the apartment.

  “Did you want to play video games, Alex?” he asks as our building comes into view.

  “Sure, bud.”

  Bud. He called him bud. That’s what I call him. It’s my thing, but I like the way Alex says it. As if it’s natural for him to address Phoenix that way.

  “Harley, can I get a new game? Alex and I don’t have any of the same games, and we can’t play together unless we do.”

  “Depends on which game,” I reply, mentally calculating the balance in my bank account. After buying groceries, the cab fare, and guesstimating which bills are due this coming week, I doubt there’s much wiggle room.

  “How about I buy a new game,” Alex offers. “I need to expand my library anyway.”

  They debate which game Alex should buy the rest of the walk home. When we reach the landing, I head toward our apartment, but Alex doesn’t let go of my hand. Without pausing his conversation with Phoenix, he unlocks his door and ushers us inside.

  He’s not taking no for an answer, and I don’t bother to protest. Plus, I’ve seen his place but never spent any real time over here. Taking it all in, I wonder if there’s a specific reason he wanted me to come in. Maybe the bed?

  17

  Alex

  * * *

  Harley said she was going to tell her boss two weeks ago.

  It hasn’t happened yet.

  Why?

  Because Daphne decided it was time to finally share with her. Because my sister has the worst timing on the planet. First thing Monday morning, she was waiting for Harley outside her office when she arrived. She wanted to talk.

  And Harley, being the caring and compassionate person she is, couldn’t turn her away.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy Daph is finally coming around. I’m glad she’s starting to show improvement and dedication to getting back on her feet. It’s been five weeks of worrying she may never get to this point.

  Still, I can’t help but think her timing is anyth
ing but a coincidence. Especially considering she’s been waiting for Harley every morning. Talking her ear off. Getting a lifetime of issues off her chest.

  Of course, Harley can’t tell me what they talk about behind closed doors. It makes me wonder if Daph is lying to Harley and making up issues that don’t exist, sticking to the story she promised she tell, or if she’s letting the truth slip out a little at a time.

  What she is doing is making it hard for me to start a relationship with Harley.

  During the week, we have dinner together most nights, and I hang out with Phoenix almost all day now that he’s out of school. My life is an endless roller coaster ride of food, the beach, and video games. It’s simple, yes, but robotic.

  Wake up early. Something I’ve always hated but now seems natural.

  Go for a morning run with Harley. I’ve convinced her that five o’clock is too early, so we leave at six o’clock instead. We don’t talk. We just run. When we get back, we each share a half-truth in the hall outside our apartments, then part ways so she can get ready for work.

  Phoenix is always waiting for me on my couch when I get out of the shower. Bowl of cereal in his lap, the front door wide open, and television remote or PlayStation controller in his hand.

  I had become accustomed to living alone, so the first time I walked out naked as the day I was born. I didn’t notice him right away or the open door. It was awkward when I caught sight of Harley in the hall, staring at me. Had I known I was showing off the goods, I would have tied a bow around him or something.

  Not really, but I at least wouldn’t have taken such a cold shower. As refreshing as it was, it has a negative effect on other parts of my body.

  She hasn’t mentioned that morning, and neither have I. The last thing I want is for her to think I did it on purpose. Or worse, for her to lose interest because of what she saw.

  After breakfast, Phoenix and I usually play video games for a few hours, and then I have to force him to go take a shower. He’s tried tricking me a few times, but for the most part, he doesn’t push back. I don’t remember hating showering when I was his age. At least not as much as he does. And the kid is definitely going through puberty. He needs to shower daily, change his clothes, and wear deodorant. I try to get out of the house in the afternoon. It’s amazing how claustrophobic it can feel living in a one-room apartment. Especially when the weather outside is so beautiful. If I don’t need groceries, we hit the beach or go for a walk.

  Phoenix has shown me most of the sites around where we live. There’s a nice strip mall a few blocks away that has a bookstore, coffee shop, and a small arcade among other things. The arcade is why we originally went there. I thought they were obsolete but apparently not. And this arcade has all the classic games I used to love to play. Games I’m still trying to get Phoenix excited about. It’s not working as of yet.

  After lunch, we play more video games, watch TV, or part ways. Phoenix is allowed to stay alone as long as he doesn’t leave the apartment. I’m not sure what he does in there, but it’s always quiet.

  About an hour before Harley gets home, I start cooking. We’ve started rotating days. I’m not very good at it, but I’m learning. I’ve stopped burning everything, at least. No matter who cooks, we always eat at her place. I don’t have a dining room table, or a dining room for that matter so it makes more sense.

  Phoenix cleans up after dinner while Harley and I catch up on the day, and then we watch TV or a movie until Phoenix goes to bed, then I head back to my place.

  Alone.

  It’s a routine.

  Every day is the same.

  In a way, I like it. I know what to expect. I’m not spending every moment by myself, bored off my ass.

  Looking at it from the outside, most people would find it monotonous. It’s not.

  The most exciting part of my day is when I hear Harley come home. To hear her voice. To see what outfit she chose to wear. Whether her legs are on display or not.

  She has a lot of skirts, and I enjoy the view.

  On the other hand, it feels a lot like a relationship without the benefits. I still haven’t kissed Harley, and it’s all I think about. Every time she walks in the room, I imagine pulling her into my arms and capturing her lips with mine. Stripping all her clothes off and exploring her body with only the tips of my fingers.

  Things I can’t do.

  Because she hasn’t stepped away as Daph’s counselor. Something I’m going to talk to Daphne about today. I haven’t brought Harley up since the day I asked her to stop harassing her. In a way, she’s kept her word, which I appreciate, but she has to be up to something.

  She doesn’t just flip like that.

  She told me she didn’t like Harley that day. She thought she was a liar.

  Trust is huge with Daphne. It’s hard to earn and even harder to keep.

  And now she’s confiding in her?

  It doesn’t make sense, and I’m going to find out what she’s up to. I’ve kept my mouth shut for weeks now, but I can’t anymore. She’s fucking with my life. With what I want. She’s a walking, talking cock block. My guess is she knows that. She knows Harley won’t cross the line with me as long as she’s showing progress.

  Daph’s in the common room when I arrive. At the ping pong table. Facing off against the same guy she’s always playing. There’s a look of determination on her face as she gets ready to serve. I can’t tell if she’s winning or not at this point, so I stand back and watch.

  Three points later, she raises her hands over her head in victory. The guy tosses the paddle on the table and walks away, his back to Daphne, but I can see his face. From his body language, one would think he’s upset he lost, yet he’s smirking from ear to ear. He either let her win or it’s a setup. My guess would be the latter.

  He wants something from her. Or he wants her.

  I’ll have to mention it to Harley so she can keep an eye on them.

  Or I won’t because that would be wrong. We’ve taken talking about Daphne off the table. It’s not allowed. We’re trying to separate ourselves from her. From the job Harley has to do every day. And, to be honest, I understand why she doesn’t want to come home and talk about Daphne or any of her other patients.

  “Are you going to gloat the entire time I’m here or are we going to visit?” I ask after ten minutes of a play by play.

  Daphne’s in good spirits, more than likely because of her recent victory, and the last thing I want to do is bring her down, but we do need to talk about a few things. Things she’s not going to like.

  “What do you want to talk about, Alex? We have the same conversation every time you visit. How am I doing? How’s therapy going? Am I having any cravings?” She pauses, giving me a pointed look. “I’m fine. It’s going fine. No cravings. Does this mean I can go home now? If not, let’s talk about something else.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse, but it’s hard to think of anything else when you’re in here.”

  “Right, so let’s get me out of here.”

  “You know that’s not how this works. Even if I wanted to get you released, they’d probably tell me no. You have to complete the program. You’re almost half-way there. You can see this through.”

  That’s a lie. I can take her home anytime I want, but I don’t want to. Taking her home means going back home myself, and I’m not ready yet. Neither is she. They recommend the twelve-week program for a reason. If she leaves too soon, there’s a higher chance she’ll relapse. The longer she’s away from temptation, the better.

  “Then tell me what you’ve been up to. You never talk about yourself.”

  How convenient she wants me to talk about what I’ve been up to. Too convenient. Almost like she planned how she wanted this conversation to go.

  “Not much to talk about. I do the same shit every day. Run in the morning, hang out at the beach, and play video games.”

  I don’t mention Phoenix or the fact I run with Harley. Those are th
ings she doesn’t need to know.

  “In the mornings? You? Up before noon? Since when?” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and doubt. I get it. If she were to say the same thing to me, I’d question her as well.

  “Since now,” I reply defensively.

  “You mean, when you finally have an excuse to sleep all day, you’ve decided to start your day earlier than you ever have?”

  I stop defending myself when I realize there’s no point. She knows me better than anyone else. An early riser is not something I have ever been.

  “Makes me wonder why you’re getting up early instead of staying up late. There has to be a reason, big brother,” she continues, shooting me a knowing glare.

  “Of course there is,” I state firmly, scooting back in the chair and sitting up a little straighter. “It’s cooler in the mornings.”

  Why am I lying to her? I came here to get information out of her, to find out why she’s suddenly taken an interest in Harley. Now Daphne’s given me the perfect opportunity to ask her.

  “Daph, I have to ask you something,” I say before she can call me out again.

  “You and all your questions. I swear, you’ve always been the nosiest person.”

  I’m not nosy, but we’ll circle back to that comment later on. If I had pushed her to answer my questions months ago, maybe she wouldn’t be here right now. If I had called more often or given her shit for missing a video chat, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten this far.

  “Listen, I’m serious. Why the sudden urge to get cozy with Harley? And don’t bullshit me about wanting to get better. I know you. Everything you do has solid reasoning behind it. So why her? Why now?”

  “You told me to be nice, and I am. Want me to be mean to her again? I can’t win with you.” Throwing her arms in the air for dramatic effect, Daphne stares at me pointedly, waiting for a response.

  “No, I don’t want you to be mean to her, but I also don’t want you to play games with her. She’s trying to help you, and I can’t help but wonder if your intentions are pure. Or if you’re only trying to get close to her so I can’t.”