I decide to tell him as much, taking a small step forward, but I hesitate when someone else steps into view. Her back is to me as she saunters toward Thayer, but I recognize the dress from earlier. Taylor Sanders. My already wrecked heart takes another beating as I watch her drop to her knees in between his spread legs. Something inside me cracks open as her dainty, manicured fingers reach for the button of his pants. How can he let her touch him like that when he was with me only hours ago?
As if he can hear my heart breaking, Thayer’s eyes lift, meeting mine through the crack in the door. They’re angry but somehow vacant, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. I shake my head, my nose flaring as I attempt to keep my tears at bay.
“Let me help you feel better,” Taylor purrs, tugging at his jeans while Thayer holds my stare.
My stomach rolls, and I turn around, unable to see any more. I quickly cross the hall into my room and slam the door shut behind me before flipping the lock. I don’t bother to get dressed, instead climbing into my bed with my towel still wrapped around me. I curl up on my side, pulling the blanket over my head.
He had to know I’d see them. Why else would he leave his door open like that? He wanted to hurt me. He did it on purpose. And for what? For telling him I loved him? God, I’m stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s not like I thought this thing with us could actually go anywhere with our parents being engaged. I wasn’t under the illusion that we’d somehow live happily ever after. I just got caught up in the moment, overwhelmed with the intensity of it all.
The truth is, I do love Thayer, and not in the same way I love Holden and Danny. But admitting it out loud was a mistake, because right now, I don’t think it’s possible for things to get any worse.
Shayne
Nine Months Later
I was wrong. Things got worse.
The night of the funeral was just the tip of the iceberg. Like a row of dominos, everything fell apart after that. Thayer ignored me at school, and on the rare occasion he was home, he’d reek of cigarettes and whiskey. Holden pretended nothing happened, burying himself inside anything with a pulse, Grey shut down, freezing me out completely when he went back to college, and the icing on the shit cake? After three weeks, our parents called off their engagement, and five days after that, I was back in Shadow Ridge. By that point, I can’t say I wasn’t a little relieved. Staying at Whittemore felt more uncomfortable and less like home with each passing day, and going to school was my own personal hell. It was as if everyone could sense the shift, and suddenly, I wasn’t one of them anymore.
But leaving Whittemore also meant leaving Thayer, and leaving Thayer was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I reconnected with my friends from middle school and finished out my junior year in Shadow Ridge while my mom worked constantly, taking as many flights as possible to make ends meet. She slowed down when she was with August, but she never completely quit, despite his insistence. Now I know why. She didn’t want to be dependent on him. It makes me wonder if deep down, she knew she’d need a safety net one day. I was proud of her for it, but I’d never felt more alone. I didn’t have her, I didn’t have Grey, and I didn’t have Thayer. I still had Valen. Our friendship was solid, and the hour drive did nothing to weaken that. And, of course, I had other friends, but it wasn’t the same.
I spent the summer working at the country club to help make ends meet, even though my mom insisted that we were fine. I thought maybe if I could bring in some extra cash, she wouldn’t have to leave so often. And just when I was finally getting used to my new normal, resigned to the fact that I’d probably never see Thayer again, fate had other plans. My grandmother passed away, and despite their vast differences, she shocked us all by leaving her house on Heartbreak Hill to my mom. It wasn’t until we moved in over the summer and saw the state of things that my mom realized it was my grandmother’s last fuck you. Turns out, Amelia Courtland was a bit of a hoarder in her old age. The downstairs was in decent condition, but upstairs? Upstairs was in shambles. We’re still nowhere near finished, but it’s livable and better than our place in Shadow Ridge. Not to mention paid off.
“It’s going to be fine,” Valen reassures me for the thirty-seventh time in as many minutes as I stand here hesitating before the imposing red-bricked building. Sawyer Point has a reputation for scary, haunted, and historic buildings. But not one of them is as intimidating as the one I stand before, and not for reasons of the paranormal variety. Ghosts have nothing on the rich and beautiful teenagers of Sawyer Point High School. I haven’t faced any of these people in nine months. I know the second I walk through those doors, the whispers will start.
As if that’s anything new.
“I know,” I say, shrugging, aiming for casual when I’m feeling anything but.
“No one’s even talking about you guys anymore since Bryce Anderson knocked up Melissa Matthews over the summer,” Valen says when I still don’t make a move. She produces a lip gloss from the tiny pocket of her equally tiny skirt before she drags the wand across her full lips. Valentina Solorio looks more like an Instagram model than a high school student with her olive skin, the perfect number of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the dimples in her cheeks. Her thick dark hair is rolled into twin buns on the top of her head, leaving two strands hanging in the front. If I tried to pull off that hairstyle, I’d end up looking like an actual alien. But Valen manages to make everything look hot. Her style is what can only be described as rich-girl grunge. Feminine with a little edge. Meanwhile, I’m looking decidedly less hot in my cut-off black denim shorts, cropped grey sweatshirt, and Chucks. We’re complete opposites, but she’s my best friend, and the only one who stuck around when everyone else turned their backs on me.
I raise my eyebrows, pinning her with a look. Everyone wants to know what happened to make Thayer and Holden drop me. Myself included.
“Okay, fine. These losers are still talking about it,” Valen says. “But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s senior year, and you’re Shayne fucking Courtland.”
I shake my head, but a small smile tugs at my lips. My name means absolutely nothing. In fact, it’s more of a scarlet letter than a badge of honor these days, much to my late grandmother’s dismay. My mom grew up here, and apparently, she wasn’t exactly the perfect little debutante they expected her to be. I’m not sure of the details, but after a falling-out with her parents, she moved away at a young age. Both Grey and I were born out of wedlock, which apparently was still frowned upon here like it’s 1952. Our father left when I was too young to remember, and all I have left is a single, faded picture.
When my mom returned to Sawyer Point to visit her parents for the first time in over fifteen years, she managed to snag August Ames, CEO of AmesAir, without so much as batting an eye. That made her the talk of the town, and when she dragged my brother and me to live at Whittemore, it made me the shiny new toy at Sawyer Point High. Rumors weren’t exactly a novel concept for me. I didn’t expect it to last more than six months with her track record, but she stuck around for two whole miraculous years. Sometimes, I wonder if she would have stayed with August for good, if not for Danny’s accident.
“Solid pep talk.”
Valen shrugs. “It’s true.”
The first bell rings and I hitch my backpack onto my shoulder, straightening my spine. Valen hooks her arm through mine and I blow out a breath. “Let’s do this.”
We make our way across the student parking lot, through the clusters of cliques, heads held high. It starts immediately—the hushed whispers, the furtive glances. With each step, they get louder, bolder, more obvious.
“I heard she got caught fucking one of the Ames brothers, so they sent her away.”
“Well, I heard she was having an affair with their dad.”
Gross.
“I heard she pushed Danny because he wouldn’t date her.”
Okay, that last one hurt. But I ignore it all, teeth clenched tight to keep from saying
anything.
“You have English first period?” Valen asks as we push through the double doors, heading into the main hall, the familiar scent of cafeteria food and a hint of bleach hitting me immediately. We’ve compared schedules, and unfortunately, we don’t have any classes together this semester.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, pulling out my phone to double-check my schedule. “I think my locker’s down here,” I say, gesturing to the row of shiny red ones that lines the walls.
“Lame. Mine’s up there.” She points a finger toward the second floor. “It’s like the universe is intentionally trying to separate us.”
“Do you have first or second lunch today?” I ask, running my finger along the cool metal lockers until I find my number.
“Second.” She scrunches her nose.
“At least we have that together. Text me.”
Valen salutes me before spinning on her heels, walking toward the stairs at the end of the hall. I hesitate at my locker, watching her space buns bounce through the crowd until she’s no longer in sight. This isn’t my first year at Sawyer Point. Same school. Same people. But somehow, everything feels different. Because everything has changed.
The minute bell propels me into motion, and I decide to worry about my locker later, keeping my backpack on me. When I make it to English, most people are already seated, and every head whips in my direction. I don’t make eye contact with a single one of them. Mrs. Roberts—who’s surprisingly intimidating for someone who can’t be over four-foot-ten—gives me a pointed look, motioning for me to sit down with her chin.
I drop my bag onto a desk in the back of the class before taking my seat. I pull out my notebook and a pencil, and when I look back up again, everyone is still staring.
“What?” I snap, already fed up, and it’s not even eight A.M.
Some smirk and giggle, but most of them look away. Mrs. Roberts clears her throat, redirecting everyone’s attention as she starts to pass out the class syllabus, and for now, I’m all but forgotten.
Until next period.
“Okay, so maybe I overreacted,” I confess.
“Ya think?” Valen deadpans around the straw of her iced coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. She sucks the rest of it down and tosses it into the trash. Having only forty-five minutes for lunch, our food and beverage options are limited. Living in Sawyer Point narrows the list even further, but you can’t throw a rock without hitting a Dunkin’. Most people stay on campus for lunch. Plus, the food here is exponentially superior to the stuff that passes for food at Shadow Ridge. Valen indulged me when I said I wanted to go off-campus today, but I doubt I’ll get a pass for long.
“Shut up.” I laugh, nudging her shoulder with mine. I’ve made it through all but one of my other classes relatively unscathed. Honestly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The curious looks and muffled remarks didn’t cease, but it didn’t go beyond that. I expected that much—worse, if I’m being honest. I figure if I lie low, someone will screw a teacher or something and eventually, I’ll be old news.
We part ways, planning to meet at her car, and when I walk into world history, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic. But the fleeting feeling dies, the faint smile slipping from my face when I see him. Dark brown hair a little shorter than Thayer’s and thick lips above his square chin and sharp jaw.
Holden Ames.
He sits at his desk, slouched back in his seat with his legs spread wide, like a fucking king sitting on his throne, surrounded by his loyal subjects. I should feel sad looking at the group of people I used to hang out with, but they were never my friends. Not really, anyway. Holden, on the other hand, he was my best friend. And I miss him more than my pride will allow me to ever admit out loud.
I freeze, heart in my throat when his eyes meet mine. I knew I’d have to face him eventually, but I didn’t prepare for how I’d feel if we had a class together.
He stares daggers at me, his lips curling up in disgust. My fingernails dig into the strap of my backpack as I glare right back, even though my heart isn’t in it. We all experienced a loss. But Thayer and Holden lost a brother. And even though I loved Danny like a brother, it wasn’t the same. Grieving him feels like a slap in the face to them. Like I’m not allowed to be sad when they’ve lost so much more than I have.
After long seconds, Holden shoves out of his chair, gripping his binder at his side and prowls toward me. I hold his stare, my body locking up as he gets closer, anticipating whatever verbal smackdown I’m about to receive.
“Thayer know you’re back?” he asks in that low, threatening tone that’s usually reserved for his enemies. I’m not used to having it directed toward me.
I shrug in response as if to say, how should I know?
A slow smile spreads across his face. “This should be fun.” He barrels past me, shoulder-checking me on his way out the door.
I stumble back, frowning, my gaze following his retreating back as a sinking feeling hits my gut. So much for time apart lessening the blow. So much for a fresh start.
“Mr. Ames!” Mr. Garcia calls out. But Holden doesn’t stop, throwing up his middle finger behind him in response. If he were anyone else, he’d be suspended. Or at the very least, he’d get hit with detention. But he’s Holden Ames, son of August Ames.
And me? I’m screwed.
Shayne
My last class couldn’t end quickly enough. I felt the weight of everyone’s attention on me like a thousand bricks on my back. As soon as the bell rang, I made a beeline for the parking lot, shooting a text to Valen to let her know I decided to walk home instead. I didn’t want to tell her about my run-in with Holden. I knew she’d try to fix the problem, for one thing, and I wasn’t in the mood to be fixed.
I wasn’t ready to go home and play twenty questions about my first day back with my mom either, so I walked around the wooded area behind my grandma’s house—my house now, I remind myself—wasting time, lost in thought. On the other side of these woods is Whittemore, and the barn sits in between the two estates, but it’s technically on their land. I don’t know what possesses me to go to the old barn, but that’s exactly where I end up. Old habits die hard, I guess. That, and the fact that I’m a glutton for punishment.
Slowly, I approach the injured tree from that night, pressing my palm against the bare strip of bark that’s much lighter than the rest of the tree, amazed by its resilience. I decide right here and now that I want to be like this tree. A little scarred, but still standing strong. When I left Sawyer Point, I was Grey’s little sister, Amelia’s estranged granddaughter, and the girl who lived with the Ames brothers. I just want to be Shayne. And I want to stand on my own two feet.
Walking in the direction of the barn, I pause when it comes into view, an unexpected wave of emotion rolling through me at the sight of it. From the outside, it looks exactly the same, as if no time has passed at all. I haven’t been here since that night, even when I wanted nothing more. It felt like his.
I jiggle the padlock, defeated, but then a thought occurs to me. I make my way over to the rock that used to act as our hiding spot. It’s a long shot. I doubt Thayer left it here. He knows I know where it is, and he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to hurt me. I pick it up, and the fact that I have to wedge it free from the dirt tells me that it hasn’t moved in a long time.
“Holy shit, it’s still here,” I whisper to myself, plucking the key from the ground and shaking the excess dirt off. Thayer kept this here so I’d always be able to get inside. Does this mean there’s still some part of him that cares? No. I shake the thought from my head as fast as it came. Why do I do that? Romanticize what I thought we had? He’s made it more than clear that whatever it was meant nothing to him. I meant nothing to him.
Even still, this place means a lot to me. He doesn’t get to take that, too.
Turning back for the door, I stick the key in and twist. The lock pops free and I don’t waste any time letting myself in. The moment I step inside, I know it’s been vac
ant for a long time. Maybe even since the last night we were here together. The night everything changed. It’s cold, dark, and…lifeless. Empty and stale.
Memories flash into my mind, unbidden. Thayer smoking his cigarettes while we took turns listening to our favorite songs. The first time we kissed. The first time he touched me. In here, we didn’t have to worry about our parents, or about what people thought. In here, we were just…us. In here, we were free.
But now it’s just an old barn.
I walk over to the worktable and swipe my finger across the layer of dust coating the top. He really hasn’t been back here. Unexpected sadness creeps in at the thought. I stayed away for obvious reasons, but before it was ours, this place was his. I swallow hard, turning to leave.
Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my missed calls and texts. Two texts from Mom asking me if I’m okay, one from Grey telling me to call Mom, and three from Valen demanding more than the vague excuse I gave her earlier.
After tapping out a quick text to all three, letting them know I’m fine—and Valen that I’ll call her later—I take one last look at the barn, then close the door behind me.
“Where have you been?” Mom asks before I’m even fully through the door. I shoot her a look, confused. She’s never cared much about my whereabouts before, and one could argue that Shadow Ridge is a hell of a lot more dangerous than Sawyer Point.
“I went for a walk. Why?” I shrug my backpack off my shoulder, tossing it onto the couch before making my way to the kitchen counter that doubles as our dining table. I take the stool next to her as she sips on a glass of wine.
Tell Me Pretty Lies Page 2
