Tell Me Pretty Lies

by Charleigh Rose

  One stop for gas, a coffee run, and an hour and thirteen minutes later, I made it to Grey’s campus. I’ve only been here once with my mom to help Grey move in, so I wasn’t sure I’d remember how to find his dorm, but low and behold, I found it.

  I stand in front of his door, suddenly nervous. I shake my head, internally chastising myself. This is your brother, idiot. The one who learned to braid my hair for volleyball when my mom was out of town for work. The one who always gave me an extra scoop of brown sugar in my oatmeal because he knew I loved it. The one who always stuck up for me, no matter the circumstances.

  Taking a deep breath, I bring my fist up to knock on the door. I don’t hear anything, so I knock again, louder this time, leaning in to listen.

  “Coming, fuck,” my brother’s voice calls out, sounding less than pleased. I hear him shuffling around, and then the knob is turning. “I told you to stop leaving your key here—oh.” He stops short when he realizes it’s me and not his roommate.

  He looks like he just crawled out of bed. His hair is messy, the stubble on his jaw longer than I’ve ever seen it before.

  “Surprise,” I say weakly, ducking under his arm that holds the door open.

  He follows me into his dorm, kicking the door shut behind him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

  “Aren’t you?” I toss back.

  “Touché.” He scratches his jaw, uncomfortable. “What are you doing here, Shayne?” He ambles back over to his bed and plops down onto the edge of it. Beer bottles and food containers litter the floor and every surface on his side of the room. On the other side of the room is a matching bed and some storage containers with wheels underneath, a desk that must be for both of them, and not much else.

  I walk over, standing in front of him, arms folded over my chest. “I’ve been calling you. A lot.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah, so you’ve mentioned. What’s going on with you?”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “I swear to God, Grey, if you lie to me one more time. You don’t take my calls, you barely respond to texts, and you haven’t set foot in Sawyer Point in almost a year.” Even before we moved back to Sawyer Point, he rarely visited us.

  “Why would I? There’s nothing left in that town for me.”

  Ouch. “Thanks.”

  “Dammit, Shayne, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean? Because you bailed on me when I needed you the most.”

  Grey’s eyes are full of concern when he looks up at me. “What do you mean?” He stands. “What’s wrong?”

  In the weeks that followed Danny’s death, Grey had already checked out, both physically and mentally before we even moved out of Whittemore. He went back to school, so he has no idea what happened during that time.

  “Danny died, Mom and August split, and then you left. And now…”

  “Now, what?”

  “Now I’m just…alone.” It sounds pathetic even to my own ears, but I keep going. “Mom is hiding something. You never talk to me anymore. Everyone’s keeping secrets. I had to move back to the town where all my old friends hate me.”

  “Back up. What’s up with Mom?”

  I roll my eyes. Of course that’s the part of the story he’d focus on. “I don’t know. You know that weird sniff thing she does when she’s lying?”

  He nods.

  “She does it a lot. And I saw her with some random guy a few weeks back, looking pretty cozy. Just this morning, she was whispering on the phone with August.”

  His brows furrow together in thought as he swipes a discarded t-shirt from the floor and pulls it on over his head. “I don’t see how that’s exactly a case for the FBI, Shayne.”

  “It’s not only that,” I say, feeling frustrated. Grey moves around the room, swiping some deodorant under his arms, then grabs his hat from the small table next to his bed. “I can’t explain it. I just get the feeling that there’s something going on that we don’t know about.”

  Grey keeps moving around the room, looking anywhere but my direction as he collects his keys and wallet. His cagey behavior is starting to make me feel on edge.

  “Did you have a fight with Danny?” I ask point-blank. Grey tenses, and an uneasy feeling creeps up my spine. “The night he died,” I clarify.

  “Where did you hear that?” he asks, his tone defensive, his hazel eyes finally meeting mine.

  “Thayer mentioned—”

  “You’re still talking to Thayer?” His eyebrows shoot up.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t want you around him. Or any of them.”

  I huff out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich coming from someone who can’t even bother to return a phone call.” They’ve been there for me more than he has this past year, which is really something considering we were enemies only three seconds ago.

  “I’m sorry, okay?” he yells. “I was going through my own shit, stuck in my head, and I didn’t realize you’d be going through it, too.”

  “Just tell me what happened that night.”

  “I can’t.”

  I shake my head, disappointment rolling off me in waves. “Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “What?” he barks, his head snapping up to meet my eyes, and I see the realization set in. “Is that why you’re here? You think I killed Danny?”

  “No,” I say, considering my words and how much to tell him. I decide to come out and just say it, because it’s been nearly a year of secrecy, and everyone knows that secrets can only hide out in the dark. It’s time to shed some light. “But someone did.”

  “Explain.”

  “Thayer and Holden think someone pushed Danny. And that the person is trying to cover it up.”

  “What makes them think that?” he hedges, running a hand through his light brown hair.

  “Something wasn’t adding up, so they tried to get a copy of the nine-one-one call, and it’s sealed. They won’t give them the police report either.”

  My brother’s eyes widen, and he blows out a breath, dropping back down to sit on the edge of his bed. “We did have an argument,” he admits. “But it wasn’t anything serious.”

  “So why didn’t you just say that?”

  “The last time we talked, we were fighting, and then he was just…gone. Do you know how much I wish that I could go back and change things?”

  Before I can respond, his door flies open, startling us both.

  “Shit, my bad,” a guy says, and I assume it’s his roommate. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  “Gross, bro. This is my sister. Shayne, that’s Jace. Jace, my sister.”

  “Hey,” I say with a wave, barely sparing him a glance before turning back to my brother. “I have to get back. I have a game tonight. But you should call Mom. She misses you.”

  I turn to leave, walking past his roommate on my way to the door. The void between my brother and me feels bigger than ever, but his voice stops me. I turn back around, waiting for him to continue.

  “I didn’t do it.”

  I nod, wanting so badly to believe him, but I know he’s not telling me something. I came here for answers. Instead, I’m leaving feeling even more confused than ever.

  Thayer

  I’m doing something I never thought I’d do again. All because of a little blonde girl who’s driving me fucking crazy. After last night, she left me sometime before I woke up. She left me. I’d be offended if I wasn’t so amused at her attempt to gain the upper hand. And a little turned on. I was prepared to back off, to let her come back to me, but then Holden mentioned she wasn’t at school today. Curiosity got the best of me, so I went by her house, but her car wasn’t there. Shayne hasn’t ditched a day in her life, so what was so important that she started today?

  So here I am, in my old high school’s gym, practically stalking her like some lovesick puppy. The logo on the floor has changed to a tiger, but everything else is the same. The people
, the championship banners lining the walls, the smell.

  “You expect me to believe she isn’t the reason for your delayed sense of school spirit?” Holden says, nodding toward the group of volleyball players huddled up in a circle around their coach with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. I spot Shayne quickly thanks to the fact that she’s shorter than the rest of the team, unable to tear my eyes away from the way her ass looks in those shorts.

  They break apart, taking their places on the court. Shayne goes for the middle, bending over to adjust her knee pads, and Holden inhales sharply. “All that cake and it’s not even my birthday.” His eyes are glued to Shayne’s ass and those toned, thick thighs that I had my face between last night.

  I swallow hard, forcing myself not to react when all I want to do is knock his ass out for even looking at her. He’s testing me, watching me for a reaction, so I give him none. I didn’t ask why he wanted to come to a girls’ volleyball game, and he didn’t ask why I offered to come with him. As long as he’s not trying to shoot his shot with Shayne, I don’t give a fuck what his reason is.

  “Come on.” I shove my hands into my front pockets, walking over to an empty row toward the back of the bleachers, avoiding the stares and whispers as we pass the group of cheerleaders sitting together at the front, probably passing time before the football game. Coming here was a bad idea for more than one reason. It’s not hard for someone to put two and two together, especially when I can’t peel my eyes off Shayne for more than two seconds at a time.

  It’s loud as fuck, but I drown out the sound of whistles being blown, people cheering, the coach barking orders, and sneakers screeching against the gym floor as I watch Shayne do her thing. I always knew she must have been good for how much she played, but I’ve never seen her in action before now.

  The chick from the other team serves the ball and it comes at Shayne fast. She sticks her arms out, palms together, but it’s too late. The ball hits her right in her collarbone, knocking her on her ass. The whistle blows and her teammates rush to help her to her feet. She waves them off, getting back into position with her hands braced on her bent knees. Her eyes narrow, as if challenging the girl from the other team, and she stretches her neck from side to side. The ball comes fast again, but this time, Shayne’s ready. She gets the ball up to the setter who pushes it to another girl who then spikes it for a point. Then Shayne’s back on it, covering in case of a block.

  She smirks, a look that radiates superiority on her face as she high-fives her teammates.

  My dick jumps in my pants. Fuck, that was hot. I’m not looking forward to sitting here with my dick half-hard.

  Eventually, they win the game. The cheerleaders stand from their spot, gathering their pom-poms, and then Holden slaps a hand on my shoulder.

  “Meet you back at the house,” he says, hopping up before jogging down the bleachers. He heads straight for the cheerleaders, all of whom are thrilled to see him. Except for one. Valen scrunches up her nose when he says something to her, and then she holds up her middle finger before walking away. Good luck with that one.

  The volleyball team disperses to find their family or friends after talking to their coach. Shayne bites down on her lip, pressing up on her toes to scan the bleachers. I see the minute she realizes her mom isn’t here, her shoulders sagging. Some of the excitement drains from her eyes, but she masks her disappointment in record time. She glances around, as if to make sure no one catches the flash of vulnerability, but I’m the only one who sees her. I’m probably the only one who’s ever seen her. The version of her that matters, anyway. Something gnaws at my conscience seeing the whole thing play out, but I shove it away.

  Shayne heads for the lobby so I follow suit, staying far enough away that she doesn’t notice my presence. When she goes into the girls’ locker room, I hang back, waiting for everyone to clear out. After a solid ten minutes pass without anyone going in or out, I survey my surroundings to make sure I’m alone before ducking inside.

  I spot Shayne standing in front of a locker with her back to me, wrapped in a towel. Her hair is piled on top of her head, wet strands sticking to her neck, but the rest is dry. Tossing the towel inside her locker, she bends over to pull a pair of white underwear up her legs. My dick jumps at the sight as I eat up the distance between us without making a sound. Once she’s within arm’s length, I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. She squeals, trying to jerk out of my hold, and I cover her mouth with my palm.

  “Shh,” I whisper, and Shayne’s body loses some of its tension once she realizes it’s me. I bring my lips to her neck, sucking the tender skin into my mouth before licking away the sting. She shivers, leaning her head to the side to give me better access. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  She peels my hand away from her mouth. “You missed me,” she accuses.

  I spin her around, reaching down to grab a handful of her ass cheek, gripping it hard. “I missed this.”

  Her bare tits are pressed against my stomach as she looks up at me with suspicious eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I watched you play,” I say, avoiding her question mostly because I don’t know how the fuck to respond. I don’t even know the answer myself.

  “You did?” Her eyebrows pull together in confusion.

  I nod. “You’re kind of a badass.”

  Her smug expression quickly gives way to surprise as I lift her up and pin her against the locker. Her legs wrap around my waist as her arms circle my neck.

  “I was hard the whole time,” I say, pushing my hips into her to illustrate my point.

  Shayne lets out a tiny moan, her eyes falling to my mouth. She wants to kiss me. And I should walk the fuck away right now, to end this before shit gets messier than it already has. Instead, I’m leaning in closer, bracing one hand on the locker above her head. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her fingers slide up into my hair, pulling me closer. Her full lips ghost across mine, and then I feel her tongue flick against my piercings at the corner of my lips. I groan, pushing into her heat, wanting to pull her panties to the side and fuck her right here and now.

  Shayne’s mouth moves against mine, her tongue slipping inside tentatively at first, but then her arms tighten around my neck, her thighs squeezing me as she deepens the kiss. I snap into action, kissing her hard but slow as she grinds her pussy against the bulge in my pants.

  Hooking my hands underneath her thighs, I walk her over to straddle the bench between the rows of lockers, bringing her on top of me. She doesn’t miss a beat, bringing her palms to either side of my face as her mouth moves against me, her hips shifting forward. Her movements are confident and it’s hot as fuck to see her like this, taking what she needs from me, but if she doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to blow my fucking load like a middle schooler getting his first hand job.

  Suddenly, the sound of the door opening then slamming shut echoes through the locker room, causing us both to freeze, Shayne’s eyes widen with panic. When we don’t hear anything else for a few seconds, I lift her off me, then stand from the bench.

  “What if someone saw us?” she whispers.

  This right here is why I should stay away from her. No matter how much I want to hate her, no matter how much I want to blame her, my need for her is stronger. Always.

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s fine?” she repeats, incredulous, reaching into her locker to pull a shirt over her head. “It’s fine that someone might’ve just seen me naked on top of my ex-stepbrother?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  She scoffs, pulling a pair of sweatpants and a jacket from the bag inside her locker.

  “Did you take my jacket?” I ask, remembering that it went missing the morning she snuck out of my bed.

  She flings her locker door shut, turning to meet my eyes. “I didn’t have much of a choice,” she says defensively.

  “I need it back.”

  “Fine.”

 
Shayne

  “Is everything okay?” Ms. Thomas asks, eyeing my latest entries as if she’s reading the manifesto of a man who planned to blow up an entire city instead of the angsty teenage ramblings that they are.

  “Fine,” I say with false cheeriness. I’ve had a lot to say lately. So sue me. Her eyes linger a little too long on an X-rated page, so I impatiently stick out my palm, clearing my throat.

  “Right,” she says, blinking rapidly. So much for not reading my personal thoughts. Gently, she drops the composition book into my hand, and I snatch it back, feeling exposed. “Let’s switch gears,” she suggests.

  “Please.”

  “College.”

  “Or maybe not.”

  “Shayne,” she chides, tilting her head. “You have options.”

  “I know,” I assure her before she launches into her spiel about scholarships and financial aid that I know I won’t even be eligible for. Everyone here, guidance counselor included, knows I’m not like the rest of the kids at Sawyer Point High. My mom might’ve come from money, but she doesn’t get a dime from her parents. “I’m actually going to tour campuses with my team next week.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up, surprised. “Perfect. Anything else you want to talk about?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  I stuff my journal into my bag, then shrug it over my shoulder as I walk out into the hall. Our meeting ran a little late, so most of the students have already gone back to class after lunch, but as I turn the corner, I see Christian and Baker arguing in hushed tones. I take a step back, peeking around the wall. Christian fists Baker’s collar, shoving him up against a locker. For a second, I think he’s going to hit him, but then he releases him, taking a step back. Baker shoves him away, straightening his shirt.

  “Don’t forget who made you who you are,” Christian threatens. “You were fucking nothing. I can take you down just as quick.”

  “Back at you,” Baker sneers.

  All of a sudden, a class door slams behind me, drawing both their attention. Two sets of angry eyes lock onto mine, and I know I’m caught. I don’t bother pretending otherwise. Christian works his jaw, glaring in my direction, and then he’s storming off in the opposite direction. Baker hesitates, pinning me with a look I can’t decode before disappearing into the classroom to the right of the lockers.