Abi and the Boy Who Lied

by Kelsie Stelting

  Anika buried her face even farther in her textbook, giggling. “I’m bad at this!”

  “That’s okay.” I laughed. “Just means you’re nice.” And don’t have two terrible parents you used to plot revenge against. “I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  I threw a blouse over my head and some jeans.

  “Hey,” Anika said. “I got the mail. Yours is on your desk.”

  “Thanks.” I eyed the envelope without a return address. Then I walked out the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  This time, Mollie drove. She had a car with a backseat so we didn’t have to get all wind-whipped on the way to High Street. There was a glittery, zebra-striped flask of rum in the center console that we all shared. (Except for Mollie. Because she was driving, and we weren’t idiots.)

  How much Captain Morgan does it take to get three girls on the track team tipsy, you ask?

  It was less than one flask.

  Everything about me was already warm by the time Mollie found a parking spot by Big Hoss Tacos.

  My stomach growled, and Nikki patted it, bending over so her face was level with my navel. “Wanna eat a taco, little guy?”

  Mollie reached over and literally grabbed my stomach flab, pushing it together and grumbled. “Feed me. Abi hungry.”

  I swatted her hand away and covered my middle. “Don’t grab my fat!”

  Jayne rolled her eyes. “What fat?”

  I narrowed my gaze. “You don’t have to be nice all the time.”

  “Whatever,” Nikki said, “come on. We gotta show Abi Freddie Mash.”

  “What?” There was something funny about that name, but I couldn’t peg what it was with my mind all fuzzy and my stomach still warm.

  Nikki looped her arm through mine, her bracelet scratching across my skin. “It’s a dance bar we can actually get into.”

  “Oh.” My eyes landed on her midsection.

  While I’d gone simple with a blouse and jeans, she’d gone all out with a revealing top that showed off every line of her muscled stomach.

  Jealousy ached through me. I’d die before showing off all of my lines. They weren’t the good ones. They were the kind that got red when I sat down for too long because my skin folded over against itself. Not sexy.

  Now that I looked at our group walking, it was clear how out of place I was. Mollie had dressed just as scantily with a tank top that tied in the back with thin spaghetti straps. Even Jayne sported a short denim dress fraying at the edges.

  Their outfits—and fitness—made me miss my friends that much more. I had a feeling these girls wouldn’t be partaking in the saltine challenge.

  We reached the dingy Freddie Mash building, indicated by a big neon sign. The S in Mash was a flashing dollar sign. A big guy at the door wrote big dollar signs on each of our hands in permanent marker.

  Nikki looped her arm over my shoulders and whispered loudly, “Don’t worry. We’ll wash it off in the bathroom.”

  Even on a Wednesday night, the place was packed with dancing, drinking bodies. I almost collided with a glass full of amber liquid and basically did the limbo to miss it.

  “Go, Abi!” Mollie cheered.

  Nikki laughed, and then I did too. Because everything was funnier when I felt like this.

  We went to the bathroom, and Mollie got hand sanitizer out of her purse. We all got our dollar signs off, drained the rest of the flask, and went back into the bar with all the confidence of freshly non-underage bar-goers.

  Which wasn’t much. I might as well have had a flashing neon sign over my head that said RULE BREAKER for how guilty I felt.

  There was a pause between songs, and one of the guys lining the dancefloor quickly grabbed Nikki. I watched in awe as she spun with him onto the hardwood, her pointed boots flashing so quickly the pair had to have practiced before now.

  Some guy in a cowboy hat grabbed Mollie next, and then one of his friends asked Jayne to dance.

  She gave me a questioning look before I nodded, and she was led into the throng of people.

  No one asked me to dance. It felt kind of like being picked last for the dodgeball team. And then getting hit the face with the ball over and over again.

  Plus, I was only a few miles from the dorm, but I might as well have been on Mars for how alien I felt. Where had all these people in boots and cowboy hats come from? We were in Austin for crying out loud. The last cow I’d seen was at least half an hour away at Nikki’s house.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist and wished for a drink just for something to do with my hands if nothing else.

  Then I remembered my phone. The perfect distraction. I loved it even more now than I did when I got it for Christmas.

  I pulled it out and snapped a quick picture before sending it to Stormy.

  Abi: HELP

  Stormy: You’re at a bar???!

  Abi: More like on the moon.

  Abi: One small step for man, one giant step backward for womankind.

  Stormy: LOL girl, I’m so jealous.

  Stormy: Frankie just dared me to cut his toenails.

  Abi: sTOP

  Stormy sent me a photo of hairy toes with excruciatingly long toenails. Well, except for the big toenail, which was a semi-decent length.

  Abi: I just threw up.

  Stormy: Been drinking?

  Abi: NO. FROM THAT MONSTROSITY YOUR MAN CALLS A FOOT.

  Stormy: It’s not that bad.

  Abi: Did he at least shower before this?

  Stormy: It doesn’t smell that bad.

  Abi: You keep saying “that bad” like that makes it any better.

  “What are you smiling about?” a low voice hummed.

  I glanced over and groaned out loud. “How are you everywhere? Are you stalking me?”

  Eric chuckled and shrugged. “Went out with some guys.” He nodded toward a group sitting in one of the booths edging the bar. They were still wearing their Upton grounds crew uniforms. “Saw you standing here by yourself. Don’t tell me you came here looking for love.”

  “For your information,” I said, “I’ve already found it.”

  He smirked. “Yes, you have.”

  I rolled my eyes, but before I could tell him he was wrong, he had my hand in his and was tugging me toward the throng of people.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” I said, stuttering my feet on the ground. “I cannot dance.”

  “You can’t,” he said, “but I can.” He spun me, and before I could lose my phone, I shoved it in my back pocket.

  Right in time too, because he’d pulled me close to him, and all I could do was hold on. His breath poured over my face, smelling tangy like beer.

  Jon’s breath never smelled like beer.

  I stepped on his toe, and he pretended to be hurt.

  “I don’t feel sorry for you at all,” I yelled over the music. I had to be right next to his ear for him to hear me. Close enough to see the sweat beading on his forehead and to smell the cologne on his shirt. “I told you I can’t dance.”

  “Fast, fast, slow, fast, fast, slow,” he said in response, trying to show me the steps.

  It was hopeless. Jon and I weren’t two-steppers. We were hopping-in-place-ers.

  Thank God a fast song saved me. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep dancing with this guy who wasn’t Jon.

  I started to leave the dance floor, but Eric grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I looked from his hand on my arm to the toying smile on his face. Why it unsettled me, I didn’t know.

  I leaned closer and yelled, “Bathroom.”

  “Ah.” He nodded and released me.

  As quickly as I could, I made it through shifting bodies to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. This wasn’t nearly as peaceful as I’d come to expect from metal stalls, though.

  Instead, I was surrounded by graphic writing and doodles on the walls, and I could hear someone throwing
up a few stalls over. A couple of girls giggling. Plus, the entire floor was permanently wet and dotted with moist toilet paper.

  Still, I covered the toilet seat in tissue and gave myself a rest. I needed it.

  Really, I needed Jon. I missed him. He should have been here with me, dancing, having a good time, saving me from guys—whether it was a lack of attention or too much.

  I sent him a bathroom selfie, a goofy photo of me sitting on the stall.

  Jon: God I miss you.

  Abi: I miss you too. Come out?

  Jon: Too much homework :(

  Abi: I can come there?

  Jon: Then I really won’t get anything done.

  My heart sank. The logic side of my brain knew homework was important. Our education was the whole reason we were here. But the emotional idiot inside of me wanted to scream and cry.

  Jon: I’m thinking of you. Every second.

  But why did that make my chest hurt more?

  I wiped a tear from my eye and replied.

  Abi: When is it going to be better?

  I read Jon’s three-word reply, and a wave of hopelessness washed over me.

  Jon: I don’t know.

  Breathing in deeply—and then instantly regretting it because I was in a disgusting bar bathroom—I stood up and went to the sinks. I stared into the mirror, watching the way my hair hung lank around my face, sagging from sweat and heat and humidity. The way the dark circles under my eyes had grown so large and shadowed, I almost looked hollow.

  Maybe I was hollow.

  Who was I without Jon? Who was I without the gold holding my cracks together?

  Here, in this bar, the last girl picked to dance, the gold seemed farther away than ever.

  I sighed and walked out of the room, hoping this night was closer to the ending than it was to the beginning.

  My eyes immediately went to the table where Eric’s friends sat, and I was strangely relieved to see him sitting with them. Then I caught sight of my friends on the dance floor, all together having a good time.

  It struck me that they were friends before I came along. I was the extra.

  I wanted to call Jon, Grandma, someone, but I couldn’t. Grandma would have just finished watching the ten o’clock news by now and would be getting ready for bed, and Jon, well, he already said he was preoccupied.

  My mind latched onto the last person who had made me feel wanted, needed, and I dialed his number.

  The rings repeated for so long, I almost hung up. But then his voice flooded the line.

  “Hello?” Evan answered.

  “Hey,” I breathed, then said it again louder because there was no way he’d heard me over the music. “Hey! I’m going outside. Hold on!”

  I looked over my shoulder to check the girls weren’t looking for me, but they were lost in the music, in the crowd, in the fun.

  I was just lost.

  I stepped outside, and my ears hummed from being exposed to the noise for so long. As I walked farther down the sidewalk, my feet hurt. I missed my tennis shoes, my room, the quiet, no-questions-asked companionship Anika offered.

  I turned the corner and leaned my back against the brick wall. Carefully, I shimmied down until I was sitting alongside the building, away from the main sidewalk.

  “Hey,” I said, finally.

  “Hey,” Evan repeated. “What’s up?”

  I rolled my glassy eyes toward the sky but only saw black and streetlights. “Oh, you know.” My voice cracked. “Just having the time of my life.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “What does that even mean?” I asked.

  “I—I don’t know. Do you need me to call someone, come there?”

  “No.” I sniffed and rubbed my arm over my face for good measure. “No, I’m fine. How’s JuCo?”

  “Like winning a Grammy while holding an Oscar,” he said with a sarcastic tone. “How’s being a D1 athlete slash badass?”

  I laughed. Just the gesture seemed rough. Like I was out of practice. “I’m exhausted,” I managed. “Trying to do some extra workouts to make up for where I started.”

  “Always going the extra mile.” He chuckled. “Ha ha. Get it? Extra mile? Because you’re a distance runner?” He forced a laugh again, clearly putting on a happy show for me.

  Thank God for Evan. The smile that touched my lips was genuine. As was the exasperated eye-roll. “Your terrible jokes have reached the finish line.”

  He laughed again. “So, it’s been rough? Where’s Jon?” he added, almost as an afterthought.

  “You have no idea,” I said with a little more poise this time. “It’s just…” What was it, though? “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss high school.”

  “I do too,” he admitted. “Why did everyone act like college was going to be this amazing non-stop party?”

  “Right?”

  “Right. I mean, I’ve been here for three weeks, and I’ve had four tests, tons of homework, have made…maybe one friend, and my girlfriend is an hour away. Without her driver’s license or a car.”

  “Well,” I said, “that’s kind of your fault for dating jailbait.”

  He laughed. “I resent that.”

  “Resent away.”

  “I miss you, Abi,” he said. “We need to hang out when you’re back, just us, okay?”

  I touched the golden A that hung around my neck, remembering the last time we spent time alone. “Will Michele be okay with that?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But she should be if she isn’t.”

  My lips quirked. “Thanks, Evan. You always make things better.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “But you don’t need me to make things better. You’re good at doing that all on your own. Look how far you’ve come since you moved to Woodman.”

  The warmth spreading through my heart was interrupted by a text message from Nikki.

  Nikki: Where are you? Leaving in a few.

  I pressed my phone back to my ear. “Thanks, Evan. I’ll talk to you soon?”

  “Any time. I’m just a phone call away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Talking to Evan was great. Riding home with the girls was fun. But walking to my dorm, constantly looking over my shoulder and knowing I wouldn’t see Jon tonight, o the next night, or this weekend, was torture.

  I entered the room, ready to vent to Anika, but she was gone with a note on her desk.

  At the library, cramming. Looks like it’ll be an all-nighter. See you in the AM.

  I held the index card between my fingers. I wouldn’t call Anika and me close—not yet at least—but I missed her already.

  It was late, though. I needed to get into bed, catch up on some of the sleep I’d been missing.

  I texted Jon. If I couldn’t have him here, I wanted his name on my phone to be the last thing I saw before I went to sleep.

  Abi: I miss you.

  He didn’t reply for several minutes, but finally, my phone vibrated.

  Jon: I miss you too.

  Abi: Come see me? Just for a minute?

  I wasn’t planning on asking, but my heart hurt in ways I didn’t understand. Maybe it was more than just missing him. I did—miss him—but maybe it was missing how I dreamed college could be.

  Jon: Can’t. I need to get this assignment turned in by midnight.

  Abi: After?

  Jon: I have practice at 4:30. I’m beat. You understand, right?

  My head did. My heart on the other hand... I texted back the only logical answer.

  Abi: Of course.

  Jon: Someday, we’ll be able to fall asleep together every night. This will feel like nothing.

  For feeling so low only moments ago, my heart soared.

  Abi: You mean it?

  Jon didn’t reply, not for ten minutes, and not for thirty. My stupid heart went right back plummeting to sub sea-level lows.

  I tossed my phone on the canvas chair by my bed and tried to fall asleep. It was useless. An ache took physical
space in my heart, in my mind, refusing to move. How could Jon’s absence feel so present?

  Around two in the morning, a few knocks sounded on my door, and I pushed myself out of bed. Anika probably forgot her keys.

  It didn’t matter that she’d gotten me up so late. I wasn’t even close to going to sleep anyway.

  But when I opened the door, Jon stood there, a dream in sweatpants and a track team T-shirt with messy hair.

  “Jon, what are you...”

  He drew me in and kissed me on my lips, silencing me. As he walked to my bed, holding my hand, he said, “I wanted to give you a taste of forever.”

  We lay curled on my twin mattress, our bodies pressed together, spreading warmth from every surface.

  When I woke up, Jon was gone, but his smell, his memory was still there. If this was what forever felt like, I had to have it.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  On my walk to lunch the next day, I was still thinking of Jon sleeping next to me all night. The fresh memory had revived every single butterfly in my stomach that had taken flight since the day I met him.

  Something about sleeping next to him, on our own, made our relationship feel that much more real. More permanent.

  And I realized I wanted more with him than what we had. I wanted everything.

  I got my phone out, my fingers hovering over the list of contacts. I couldn’t call Stormy because she wouldn’t see what the big deal was. Or Skye, after the whole community shower comment—I would be too embarrassed, thinking of that the whole time. Or Macy and Leanne for...obvious reasons.

  So I did the unthinkable. I called my grandma.

  “Abi.” Her voice sounded worried. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yes,” I said. “I just wanted to talk.”

  She let out a relieved breath. “I’ve been trying not to smother you, but...”

  “I know,” I said. I was touched at how much she cared. “Thank you.”

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  Even though I knew this was the right move, I stalled. What if she told Marta, and Marta got back to Jon, and then I’d look like a child running to my grandma for help?