Dirty Liars

by Eden Beck

  Eventually, I just throw up my hands and go to sit in the middle of the boat as out of the way as possible.

  The shore has started slipping away. Soon it’s just a tiny dark line across the horizon.

  Wills is so focused on sailing that he soon forgets me entirely. His eyes scan the skyline with a laser-focus that’s a lot more attractive when it isn’t looking for my shortcomings.

  I close my eyes for a bit and lose myself in the motion of the boat. It’s calming and methodical until, with a sudden gust of wind, it isn’t.

  I’ve never felt a storm blow in so fast.

  The lake, glassy and smooth just moments before, suddenly rages around us. A wave slaps against the side of the boat, sending a massive spray of water up into Will’s face and blinding him.

  Part of the sail whips around and nearly hits me in the face, but I manage to duck and grab onto some of the lines for support. It was the wrong move.

  The boat tilts sharply to the side, ripping the rigging from my hands. Something snaps overhead and suddenly ropes and splintered wood are raining down on me. I duck and cover my head, sending the boat heaving to the other side.

  Wills is screaming at me, but I can only hear part of what he’s saying. He lets go of the rudder and reaches out to me with one arm, the other pointing at something in the water behind me.

  I feel the swell reach me before he does.

  The spray and rain has become so thick that I don’t realize I’m falling in until salty water is rushing into my lungs and burning my eyes. I must have hit my head on something while falling, because a searing pain has sprouted at my temple. I’m disoriented for a moment—lost once again in the swirl of water around me.

  Then I come to my senses. I kick my feet hard and push my face up out of the water, gasping for breath, only to get washed over with another wave. The boat is nowhere in sight. Beneath the surface, all I see is dark water and bubbles. Above, just a haze of grey rain.

  I’ve swallowed more water than air, and I’m not sure that I’m going to live through this when I feel something clamp onto the shoulder of my lifejacket. I’m hauled up out of the water like a fish on a line dragged onto what’s left of the deck of the boat.

  Wills crouches over me, his hunched body blocking the rain from hitting my face. The other hand does that job for it, tapping my cheeks until I open my eyes and blink up at him.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hollers at me. He glares furiously at my face, and then closes his eyes and shakes his head. I just half roll over and spit up a lung full of water.

  Just as I catch my breath, I see him reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it up over his torso and head. As quickly as the storm rolled in, it dissipates. The clouds start to part overhead and the lake, one moment before a storm-tossed-sea, goes still.

  Wills looks like a Greek god; he’s exquisitely chiseled, and it stuns me for a second, staring at him as he leans close to me.

  “I can’t believe you did this!” he barks at me as he wads up his shirt and dabs at my head. It’s only then that I realize that I’m bleeding. He studies the cut as he wipes at it and then he hands me the soaking wet shirt.

  “Press this against your head right here, and hold it tight,” he tells me, then repeats himself while demonstrating when I don’t do it right the first time. “Tighter!”

  I do as he says, and then I look around. The boat is half submerged, and even Wills looks as if he’s given up.

  “Can we fix this?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No. We’re lucky it hasn’t sunk completely yet. We’re going to have to sit here and wait to be rescued. Nice job, Blondie.”

  He goes to the furthest edge of the boat just a few feet away and squats with his back to me while he rummages in the remains of our emergency kit for a flare. I try not to stare, but I just can’t help it. He’s so incredibly built, and because he’s not looking at me, it gives me a sneaky chance to take in his amazingly sculpted physique.

  I might not like him, but he’s definitely worth staring at when his back is turned. I blame the head injury.

  Thankfully it isn’t long before the teacher arrives on another boat, and we clamber on. Wills’ wrath is nothing compared to his. He lets Wills have it, telling him that his parents will be billed for the damage and he can expect at least a week’s detention for leaving before the rest of the class.

  I’m expecting similar treatment when he turns to me, but instead, the teacher just checks the cut on my forehead before pronouncing me fine. I guess being new has its perks, for once.

  I go to sit beside Wills, not exactly to thank him, but maybe as a sort of apology for him taking all the blame. He just keeps those eyes of his trained on the boat sinking beneath the waves behind us.

  Wills isn’t speaking to me or looking at me at all, he’s so mad. As I watch our sailboat finally sink down beneath the lake waters, I guess I can’t blame him.

  As reckless as he was, I still feel guilty for not being able to help. He probably wouldn’t have sunk if he had an even somewhat reliable sailing partner.

  Once we’re back on land, he starts to walk away without even so much as a glance toward me, but I run after him and grab him by the arm. He turns with a scowl at me.

  “What?” he demands irritably.

  I hand him his wadded up soaking and bloodied shirt. “I thought you might want your shirt back.”

  He scoffs. “Not now. That was John Varvatos, too.” He shakes his head in total disgust. “What a waste.” He walks away and I wonder which he means. Me or the boat.

  Chapter 7

  Victoria sees me in the hall as soon as I head back to the school and her mouth falls open in shock. I tried my best to dry off beforehand, but I’m guessing I still look like an absolute wreck.

  There are two girls with her; each of them standing just behind her, like wingmen. She comes to me and picks tentatively at my wet hair and white blouse with her fingertips, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing or touching.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I went for a swim in the lake,” I say. My voice is the only thing dry about me.

  “Oh my god … that rumor about you sinking a boat today is true?” She blinks and then laughs hollowly for a second. “Who would have thought?”

  Great. It’s already going around the school. How many rumors can I get going about myself in one day, I wonder? Maybe I can set a Guinness Book World Record.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  She watches me interestedly for a moment, and then brightens and introduces me to her friends; Alisha Kane and Laura Brighton.

  Alisha looks exactly like Malibu Barbie, and Laura looks like a brunette version of Alisha. Their vapid eyes tell me that there’s not a lot going on behind the designer makeup and fake eyelashes. That’s alright with me. It’s the smart ones you have to watch out for.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I offer them a polite smile.

  The sinking boat escapade made me miss my next class, but Victoria is quick to fill me in as she hauls me back off across the quad to find a sunny spot to dry off in. At this point changing completely is pretty pointless. I’m just a bit damp now—nothing a little sunshine won’t fix.

  We stop at a beautiful area with some flower beds in the corners, paths, grassy areas, and tall, old trees growing overhead. She passes a few empty benches and parks us on one at the far end of the quad where some other students are hanging out.

  A few tables have been set up with sign-up sheets for clubs and sports. A decent number of students are milling around, laughing, and catching up about the goings-on of their summer holidays. There’s a general feeling of excitement, and it’s infectious.

  I’m about to ask Victoria if there are any clubs she thinks I should join, when I catch her positively preening beside me. I try not to stare, but it’s so ridiculous it’s hard not to. If I did say something to her now, I doubt she’d listen.

  She’s grinning
like a cover model in front of a Nikon; flipping her hair back and forth over one shoulder while crossing her legs and giving them a good, obvious look. It wouldn’t look nearly so odd if both Alisha and Laura weren’t starting to copy her, while looking on out of the corner of their eyes for cues.

  I’m really starting to wonder what in the world she’s doing it for until I happen to raise my eyes and see three boys leaning against one of the big old trees, talking and taking in the view. The brief storm left a shimmer to the grounds that makes everything appear just a little … magical. My stomach tightens at the sight of them. It’s Astor Hawthorne, Wills Stryker, and another boy I haven’t seen yet.

  They look like they’re the worst half of the three musketeers; all for one.

  The third boy catches me staring. He’s different from Astor and Wills. Even from here, I can see the green of his eyes that seem to pierce everything they look at, and those eyes are seriously set off by his dyed silvery white hair. There’s mischief in his smile, one cheek punctuated with a dangerously adorable dimple.

  This is not good.

  It’s been my experience that anyone with dimples is trouble.

  He looks over and I can see him blatantly checking me out. He gives me a wink and a full-blown smile, and I feel my breath catch in my chest.

  I look away quickly and focus on Victoria again, trying to reignite the conversation I was hoping to have with her about school clubs that might look good on a college resume, but she’s completely distracted with trying to catch Astor’s eye. The problem is, he’s not looking at her … he’s looking at me.

  But it’s not with admiration. It’s disdain.

  It’s like he can look right through me, right past Sadie to Teddy.

  I suddenly feel so out of place. I wonder if old money can smell poverty, and before I find out for sure, I leap to my feet. I’m not going to just sit here and let Astor ogle me like a piece of meat he’d like to eat … after he’s stabbed it first.

  I tell Victoria I’m heading to class, and she just waves me on.

  I stop once to glance back at her, and I have to shake my head. She really did just drag me out here so she could pose in Astor’s direct line of sight for an enticing effect.

  Wills’ words come back to me from earlier. What a waste.

  I’m nearly to my next class when I hear a sultry voice over my shoulder, in my ear.

  “Sexy Sadie,” it purrs.

  My eyes grow wide and I turn on the spot to see who could possibly be so bold. It’s stunning to see the silvery haired boy who was with Astor just a few minutes ago standing so close we nearly touch.

  He grins, his dimple deepens, and he gives me a flirtatious wink. “I’m Blair. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  I have no idea what to say to him. There are only a few rare moments in my whole life when I’ve been speechless, but this is definitely one of them.

  “Uh … Blair.” I nod and try to get some kind of hold on the whirlwind of surprise going on inside me. “Hi,” I say at long last, feeling seriously dense.

  He leans a little closer to me and I can feel the warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne, which is enticing to say the very least. “We’re in this class together. Why don’t you come and sit next to me?” he offers, his green eyes glittering as he studies mine.

  An inner, depraved, part of me aches to say yes.

  His eyes, the voice, those dimples … they’re nearly enough to make me throw all caution to the wind and agree. I know this isn’t just an invitation to sit together. That look in his eyes, it’s asking much, much more.

  But this Blair … no one can be that close to Astor and Wills without making the alarm bells go off inside my head.

  “Well, I …” I begin, still mulling it over in my head as I try to decide the least committal way to turn him down, but he cuts me off.

  “You can tell me all about your swim in the lake today.” He whistles low and drops his eyes to the white blouse I’m wearing. “I wish I’d been there. I’d have loved to have seen that.”

  Ah fuck. I hadn’t thought of that earlier.

  Wills must have really got an eyeful.

  My cheeks begin to burn, and I tug the books in my arms up higher in disgust. The boys at this school leave so much to be desired. At least his comments have helped me make up my mind.

  “Thanks, but I only have reservations for one,” I say. I leave him in the hall and walk into class, sitting at the front where my attention will be on the teacher and not on any of the other, far more distracting, students.

  Not to be deterred, Blair leans down to whisper in my ear as he passes by my desk. “Nice choice.” He runs one hand along the back of my seat, letting the tips of his fingers brush between my shoulder blades. “I’ll be able to watch everything from here.”

  Blair leaves and takes a seat in the next row over, two chairs behind me to my right. He leaves behind him a space that suddenly feels empty. So much for ‘out of sight out of mind’. Blair just ensured he’ll be the only thing on my mind for the rest of class.

  It takes everything in me to keep any kind of focus on what the teacher is saying. Blair doesn’t help; he drops little nuanced words and phrases in my direction the whole hour long. It gets so bad that even the teacher starts to pick up on it, and keeps looking at Blair funny. I end up having to cover the bottom of my face so no one sees me smiling. I know he’s aiming it all at me, and all I can think is that he is the literal definition of a bad, bad boy, and I hate it’s something that intrigues me.

  The second the bell rings, I practically run from the room out into the hall. My sweet escape is ruined when I only immediately smack into the solid wall of Astor Hawthorne’s muscular chest.

  He’s knocked backward and drops his books along with mine. I’m not the only person who stops to see what he does next. All eyes are on me as he just stands there, staring, as I slowly get down on my knees and pick up my books. I leave his scattered across the floor.

  As I stand back up, he’s right in front of me, glaring down, and his voice is cold.

  “Stay out of my way, or I will make every day here a living hell for you.”

  I shoot him a dark look and push past him down the hall to get to my last class. As soon as I step away, a younger boy clambers down to collect Astor’s books for him. He really is king.

  There are only two empty seats when I finally find the next room, and I take one of them just as Blair Rashnikov saunters through the door and sees the empty chair beside me. He chuckles and takes it, leaning over to me with a teasing grin.

  “Thanks for saving me a seat, Bunny.” He gives me a wink and I feel my cheeks burning again. “You aren’t going to get away from me that easy.”

  All my attempts to ignore him, angering Astor, embarrassing myself … it’s all been for nothing. Blair sits so close to me, I can’t even breathe without thinking of him now.

  It’s all a game this, and I think I’m already losing.

  Is this day ever going to end?

  Chapter 8

  The first day of school does end, but it’s only the beginning of all the other days that follow. When I first came to Hawthorne Academy, I had no idea what to expect, really. I had it in my head that I would work hard in my classes, that I would give myself a solid foundation to build a good future on, and that I would hopefully make some friends.

  That’s all fine and dandy, but it’s just the beginning. Turns out those were the easy parts.

  My run-ins with the boy’s don’t stop. Try as I might to stay out of their way, there’s no avoiding them. Blair is bent on teasing me like I’m his new toy, but I know how that goes. He’ll play with me for a while, but as soon as he’s bored with me he’ll move on to the next shiny, new thing.

  Then there’s Wills. He still hasn’t forgiven me for the incident with the boat. I’ve tried to stay out of his way as much as possible during sailing class, and thankfully after the shipwreck earlier our teacher doesn’t try and pair us
up together again.

  Astor is … he’s just Astor. Thank god we only have one class together, because I think there’s a certain point where shooting daggers with your eyes might actually kill a person. If that is the case, I’ll be found murdered by eye-daggers any day now.

  The days fly by and the weather starts to drift into fall by the end of the following week. The leaves have started to turn at the edges and the air has a certain crispness in the mornings. That sharpness still lingers on the lawn Friday afternoon as I’m finishing up a biology assignment with Dana.

  Today she’s lost in her own thoughts, not really paying any attention to the fact that the only response I’ve given her over the last hour are a series of half-hearted grunts. She’s gone off on one of her “Victoria” tangents again.

  “Did you see Victoria today? It takes all my will not to just … reach out and touch her skin.”

  This time I actually glance up. “You know that sounds super serial-killer-y, right?”

  Dana closes her eyes and groans miserably for a moment as she’s laying on the grass near me.

  “I know. Just kill me please.”

  I mime stabbing her several times in the stomach before going back to my work. She just sighs again and rolls over on her side.

  “If I was you, I wouldn’t be spending any time with me. Not when Victoria actually wants to be your friend.”

  Now it’s my turn to sigh. I set down the book and stretch my cramped shoulders.

  Truth be told, I’ve gotten kind of tired of the way Victoria tries to show me off on her arm around the school like some kind of keeper of the new girl. I know there’s a brain behind those fake lashes and perfect hair, but she’s still the very definition of shallow and self-serving.

  At the end of the day, it’s Dana I can actually talk to … and that means a lot to me. I haven’t had many true friendships in my life. I’ve not been here too long, but I know that Dana is a true friend. It’s for that reason that I refuse to lie to her.