Lying Hearts (Hearts Series Book 1)

by Faleena Hopkins

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Annie

  I now understand the expression dancing on air.

  The night never picks up. But I have Brendan to look forward to, so it being a slow night again is the furthest thing from my mind. All the work I did on myself, all the time I took to lighten up and find my inner me – it was worth it. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I do know one thing: I still love him. Who knows? Maybe when I get to know him better, I’ll feel differently. But I doubt it. I saw him tonight. The old him. Funny how it took the new me to bring out the old him.

  I look at the clock. It’s five after two. “How do I look? Do I look okay?”

  Manny nods, clearly disinterested. He doesn’t understand why I’m asking.

  The last customers head for the door. I call out, “Thank you for coming in!”

  They wave, surprised. “Great place!”

  “Yeah? Tell your friends!”

  I watch as they vanish out into the night. With my hands on the counter, no one left but me and Manny, I stare out the window excitedly. Manny picks up the last glasses and walks to the sink. “You want me to lock it, Annie?” I don’t hear him, so he says again, “Annie?”

  “What? Oh, No. I’ve got it.” But I’m still staring at the window, eagerly waiting for Brendan to walk into view. He was so cute tonight, rattling off his resume of attributes. It was difficult not to laugh and tell him he’s being crazy. He will die when he finds out it’s me. I’ll tell him. I should confess tonight. That’s the right thing to do.

  “Boss?”

  “Oh, right.” I walk to the door and pull on the chain that holds my keys safely to me at all times. Stopping halfway, I turn and call out, “Let’s just give it a few more minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just wait.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Manny comes out of the bathroom with a mop. He looks at the door. “We should lock it now. It’s late. The fog’s come in.”

  “Just another minute, okay?”

  I look to the window for the millionth time. My heart has been plummeting with each tick of the clock. And Manny’s right. The fog is coming. We can both see it. We’re not in a bad neighborhood, per se. Mission used to be a lot worse, but the freaks do like the night. The fog is an extra bonus veil for them, easier to hide in. I don’t like to think that way, but I’m not naïve about these things. My dad was a hunting man. He and his buddies used to take down anything bigger than they were. Those types of men teach their daughters to be smart, so I learned early that an ounce of prevention beats a ripped skirt and therapy for life.

  “You want me to get it?” Manny asks again. He sounds nervous.

  I sigh. “No. I can get it.”

  At the door, I wait another hopeful minute, unable to believe he’s not here.

  “What time is it?”

  Manny looks and calls out, “Two-thirty-five.”

  I rest my forehead on the door, sliding the key in. Slowly, I click the lock closed, trying not to feel like the stupidest girl who ever existed. What was I thinking? He was just playing with me. He’s a player. It was obvious. This is what they do.

  Fuck me for being such a hopeless romantic.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brendan

  At Knockout. Head: elsewhere. Irritation: building like a volcano in summer.

  It’s after two and Bobby’s kicked everyone out but me and Teri. He’s remembering the time we had to kick a drunken guy out for hitting on a table of girls. “And this guy!” He points to me. “This guy goes over and says, ‘Excuse me. Is he bothering you ladies?’ All four of them nodded! The guy looked at Brendan like he was the biggest dick. But Brendan here is always the gentleman, and could see from afar that the girls didn’t like the guy.”

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out. They were shifting in their seats and I heard one of them ask him to leave.”

  Teri rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so humble. A lot of guys wouldn’t have helped. So what happened?”

  “The guy told Brendan… What’d he tell you again?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Oh yeah! He said, ‘Dude, I’m talkin’ here. Why don’t you go back to where you were and forget about it.’”

  Teri makes a noise. “I bet that went over well.”

  “Yeah, right? Brendan replied, cool as school, ‘Why don’t you take off so the ladies here can enjoy the rest of their night without listening to a douche bag.’ The guy was pissed!”

  I look over to the window, my mind on Annie. “Douche bags can’t be tolerated.” Teri glances from me back to Bobby, waiting for more.

  Bobby holds his hand over his mouth while he talks, and says through a burst of laughter, “The guy reared back to punch Brendan, but B-man nailed him first. Right in the nose and broke it.”

  “You’re such a badass.” Teri leans forward to run her hand up my thigh and give me a peck on the lips. I receive it, but my mind is elsewhere.

  I look at the clock, staring at it, deep in thought.

  Bobby’s laugh fades as he sees me. “Brendan, that’s the fifteenth time you’ve checked the clock.”

  Teri asks, “Did you want to get going now? I can leave whenever.”

  I don’t like this pull I’m feeling. I can’t get it out of my head that I’m not at Le Barré. That I want to be. That I don’t want to be anywhere else. That’s she’s waiting for me, probably thinks I’m a dick. What am I doing here? What is wrong with me?

  I throw a questioning look to both of them, distracted. “What?”

  “I said you keep looking at the clock. If you guys want to go, then go. I have a bed that’s calling my name, too. Only no one’s in it.”

  I stare at Bobby like he’s speaking another language. “Oh, right.” Turning to Teri, I see the sexy gleam in her eyes, a look I’d usually be all over. She’s great. I like her a lot. She’s a regular, but man if I don’t see Annie staring back at me saying, And what you want is me.

  I just need more time away from her. It’ll pass.

  “Let’s go.” I get off the stool and throw some cash to Bobby. “That cover it?”

  “Get the fuck out of here.” But he takes it anyway.

  I smirk. “Asshole.”

  “You looking in a mirror”?”

  Teri laughs and follows me. “How old are we now?” I hold open the door for her like I always do, but my smile is missing.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Annie

  Asking myself the big question: Why am I here?

  When I first got back to San Francisco, I rented the apartment in The Mission District. I furnished it sparingly with plans to add more as I searched estate sales for gems, saving money and finding a more eclectic mess of belongings that spoke specifically to my tastes.

  Then during the first week back, I went to my old campus to walk around. I wanted to reframe my memories. It was hard walking through the place where I’d felt so differently than I feel today, so alone and sooooooo different.

  Greeting me on campus was the usual chaos of young people heading in different directions, all with their own styles, groups, and focus. I walked slowly, seeing a lot of memories replay themselves. Like at the bench where Corinne and I laughed while she told me about Johnny, the guy she nailed in the library who wouldn’t stop following her afterward. We’d looked over and seen him standing behind a building, poking his head out at exactly that moment. We’d cracked up, which made him feel miserable. He stopped following her after that. Which was even funnier.

  I passed by Drama next, thinking of the complete disaster that had been for me back then. My inability to talk to people had made performing pretty much impossible. I thought it might be the opposite because at the time I had a love for all things Tim Burton and felt if he – a man who seemed to be very quiet and introverted, too – could branch out creating films like he did, maybe I could do something like that. It didn’t work out that way. I could barely speak on stage and was
often whispered about by girls who looked like I do now. A pang of anger stabs me every time I think of shit like that. I would never do what they did to me. That stuff scars you for life, and fuck them for being like that.

  On purpose, I went to the spot I used to hide in there, pretending to read a book. What I had really been doing was pumping myself up to go inside and join in… but failing every time.

  So I stopped there to take a moment and reframe that memory. I imagined myself just as I was back then, but this time walking in the door and being greeted by friends who wanted me to do a scene with them, who’d thought of the perfect part for me to play. As I imagined this reframed moment, the weight left me and I could see it all as if it had really happened that way. It helped the pit of regret loosen its hold.

  I did this to let go. I’d read somewhere that the past is all in our heads. It’s no longer happening. It’s not real. So if we can reframe it, rewrite it with a better outcome, we can release the bond it has. I was skeptical it would work, but going to the campus that day, I felt better.

  Next I went to that fateful hallway. The one where I thought Brendan said hi to me, but it turned out he really didn’t. I ignored the people walking by in present day, and stood off to the side with my back against a wall. I focused and saw again Brendan at age twenty-two when I was only twenty. Saw how it really happened, how he’d looked my way with recognition in his eyes, how he’d smiled and said it. Hey. I saw the real memory of me lifting my hand, eyes lighting up with surprise as I returned Hey… before Mark passed me, walking up from behind and joining Brendan. How they’d turned without seeing me and walked off together. How I stood staring at them in the crossroads of this hall, feeling like I didn’t exist. I’ll never forget hearing Mark boastfully say, When are you going to get rid of your girlfriend and come out with us. Last night was amazing. It’s why I call him Jerkoff Mark because what kind of idiot hopes to break up a happy couple?

  Standing there watching the ghosts, I felt my heart pull in my chest as if I was back there again. I couldn’t go on living with that feeling. I wasn’t hiding anymore and I no longer wanted to see myself as invisible. No one was going to heal me, but me.

  So I took a deep breath and imagined the scene again, allowing it to shift.

  This time I pictured Brendan stop and say, Hey. I again saw me surprised, lifting up my hand and saying it back. I saw him smile and walk to me this time. What’s you name? I saw me push my long, stringy black hair behind my ear and quietly answer, Annie. I saw him nod, his forehead pushed up and in with thoughts and ideas that were only his. Then I let my imagination paint the rest of the scene, going where my heart guided it.

  You know what Annie?

  No, What?

  I’m sorry I didn’t see you, but we’re going to meet again years from now. In a bar here in the city. You own the place. And we’ll be different then. Right now we’re just kids.

  A bar? Could I own a bar? Where had that idea come from? I focused again.

  Yeah?

  Yeah. So let this one go, okay? I didn’t know any better. And to be fair, you were kind of lurking in the shadows.

  Then I saw him walk and join Mark again, but this time Brendan looked over his shoulder and waved to me. See you then, he said.

  I let them vanish. Reality quickly swarmed back into focus. I stayed there, soaking it in, letting the past fall off me as strangers passed in present day. Did I feel better? I had to admit, I did. But the real surprise was the inspiration that had come out of nowhere.

  I pushed off the wall and walked off the grounds for the last time, daydreaming about it all the way home. Could I own my own bar? I learned a lot from managing the one I worked at in Tuscany. Having my own business certainly goes with my personality. I’m not a fan of authority, and I do think differently than most, so maybe having my own thing is the perfect job for me.

  Then, walking around Mission Street three days later, I came across a For Lease sign in the window of a closed and empty bar. Had I not gone to campus, that sign might never even have registered. I might have just passed by it like I’ve passed by so many other improbable opportunities.

  Thrilled, I practically ran across the street to look inside the window. The red paint and gaudy sign would have to go, but there was huge potential. A nice bar top was already set up. It had a thick layer of dust, but was perfectly serviceable otherwise. There would be no need for costly reconstruction. There were black booths and red walls. I stared at them, picturing the coat of paint I could put in their place.

  How much fun would it be to get my hands dirty on a project of my own? I could do this! My own place!

  Instantly, I knew what I would call it.

  Le Barré - The Bar, in Italian.

  It sounds elegant, but really it’s just a basic everyday word. Kind of like me; I look pretty good, but really I’m just a dork who found out how to use makeup and wear better clothes.

  Le Barré. I loved it!

  Turning tonight, I look around my bar. My reframed memory came true. Even Brendan and I meeting came true. If I’d have known it would have, I’d have added, and then we’ll fall in love. Something to ensure he would have come back tonight.

  With a deep breath in, I call out, “Okay, Manny let’s cover the bottles.”

  “It’s locked?”

  “It’s locked.”

  I just want to go home.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Brendan

  Pockets: full of frustration in the form of my fists. Head: down. With: Teri. Talking: Nope.

  “Why are you so quiet tonight, B? Something bothering you at work?”

  I don’t hear her. I’m not really here. I’m seeing Mark waking up in the morning and seeing Teri in the kitchen making pancakes like she does. I’m seeing Mark’s face when he tells me without words that I’m a coward. Am I a coward? Hell no.

  I stop walking. “Teri.”

  She turns, her heel scraping on the sidewalk. Zipping up her dark grey jacket, she asks, “Yeah, B?”

  “You’ve got style, you know that?”

  “Thank you. Uh-oh. I sense something bad coming.”

  “I’ve always been honest with you, right? Told you what’s up.”

  She looks to the other side of the street, smiling sideways, one corner higher. “Oh yeah. You always tell me how it’s going to be.” She adopts a voice that’s supposed to be me. “Don’t get attached Teri. This is as far as this will ever go. But I’ll treat you right. You just can’t ever expect me to be anything you dreamed about when you were a little girl.” Her hands go up with quotation signs and she gets very serious. “And I will be fucking other women.”

  I look off to the distance. “Jesus. You memorized it.”

  “I’ve heard it enough!” She touches my cheek. “Why are you asking? You want to make sure I don’t get my feelings hurt if I don’t see you again for awhile after tonight?”

  “No.” I remove her hand and hold it in both of mine. “It’s because I’m hoping you won’t hate me for not taking you back to my place. I have somewhere I need to be. I promised someone something.”

  Her eyes cloud over. “Oh. I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I was trying to avoid it.”

  She backs away a step, pulls back her hand, holding it up. “Wait. Who’s waiting for you at this hour? Please don’t tell me you were about to use me to get over another girl.”

  Hearing it put so directly sounds awful. Thinking fast, I do what I rarely do. I lie. It’ll hurt less and I like her that much. “It’s not that. I have to go help a guy who’s got his heart all busted up. I didn’t want to go. I’d much rather go with you.”

  The frown lines smooth out and she exhales, and looks away again, relieved. “Oh. Sorry. I was just surprised for a second. That’s not something I’ve ever seen you do.”

  “What?”

  “Ditch one woman for another. I mean, I know you’re not the tied-down type, but you usually focus on one o
f us at a time. It gives a woman a sense that she means something.” She blinks away the vulnerability, tries to cover it up with a smile.

  I hold out my hand, asking her to take it again. She does. “Teri, you do mean something.”

  “I know. I just need you to know it, too.”

  “I do.”

  “I do have self-respect. And I like to fuck you. The two can co-exist.”

  “They sure can.” I laugh and bend to kiss her hand before releasing it. “Another time.”

  “Oh, alright. Enough with the seriousness. Jeez. Go help your friend. I’ll see you later.”

  “Let me call you a cab.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll go back in and have Bobby call me one. I’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

  I watch her walk inside before I turn in the direction of Le Barré. Checking the time on my phone, I discover it’s a sad 2:37 a.m. I hope she’s still there.

  As I get closer, it’s obvious the place is dark. They must have gone home. I fucked up. I care, which is hard for me to understand or believe. I have to see her again. I feel it. I really need to talk to her. What is wrong with me?

  I’ll just go and look inside the window, see if she’s there. If I have to walk home alone after this, I have a feeling I will replay my mistake over and over until my frontal lobe falls right the fuck out. The last two steps until I get to the window are fucking torture. I’m sure when I look in, she’ll be gone. C’mon Annie, still be there.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Annie

  Lights: dimmed.

  “You know what, Manny?”

  He pulls off a long piece of plastic wrap. “What?”

  “I’m going to make this place great. You wait and see.”