Liar Liar

by L A Cotton

  “So, yeah, so I’ll be going now. Enjoy your pizza.”

  His eyes narrowed on me. The storm raged in his depths, and his lips parted as if to speak, but he obviously thought against it, scrubbing a hand down his rugged face instead. What was with that? The way he seemed so unsure around me, guarded, and most of the time, downright rude. He flicked his chin the way guys did when they were unsure of what else to say and started to walk away. Pressing a hand to the door of the restrooms, I was about to step inside when his voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “Evan.”

  “Huh?” I spun around, and he was just standing there, looking at me. His eyes burned into me with such intensity, I felt it all the way down to my stomach.

  “It’s not Math guy; it’s Evan.”

  Evan.

  “Okay, Evan.”

  He shook his head with silent laughter. “See you around, Math girl.”

  Watching as Evan slipped back into the restaurant, I couldn’t have stopped the smile tugging at my lips even if I’d tried. I knew that I needed to stay away from someone like Evan, but I couldn’t help but think that maybe Credence wouldn’t be as bad as I’d first thought.

  I was wrong.

  Monday in math, Evan didn’t speak to me. It was the same for rest of the week. In the classes we shared, he didn’t acknowledge me—he didn’t even look at me. It was like I didn’t exist to him. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little. But aside from Evan’s icy cold shoulder, things were a little easier. The snickers died down, I avoided Kendall and her crew as much as possible, and a couple of people had actually smiled and said ‘hey’ to me in government, or at least, I’d thought they had.

  But none of it stopped the nerves churning in my stomach as I entered English last period on Friday. There was nowhere to hide from Kendall now, and although she sat up front and I didn’t have to endure her scowl burning into the back of my head, I would have preferred not being in class with her, at all.

  To my surprise, it passed without incident. There were no more notes. No whispered insults.

  Nothing.

  When the bell rang, I almost dared to hope that my arrival in Credence was old news. But it slipped away as I watched the teacher hurry out of the room along with a stream of kids. One of Kendall’s friends remained behind, closing the door and gripping the handle tightly so that no one could enter from the outside. The room closed in around me as Kendall stalked forward. My eyes searched for someone—anyone—who might stick around and help me.

  There was no one.

  Just Kendall, her friend, and me.

  “Hey, what’s going on in there?” a voice called followed by banging on the door.

  A girl’s face pressed up against the glass as the door handle rattled. The brunette holding the handle stepped in front of her view, narrowing her eyes at me.

  Kendall rounded the desk in front of me and leaned back against the edge casually. “I thought we should meet, officially.”

  “I know who you are,” I croaked.

  “Good, that’s good.” Her voice was eerily calm, unnerving me even more, if that was possible. With the way my heart was beating out of my chest, I figured it probably wasn’t.

  The banging on the door intensified, echoing the pounding in head … my chest … my ears. Kendall shot her friend an irritated look.

  “Kendall!” The voice sounded pissed.

  “What’s a girl got to do to get some peace around here?” Kendall mused, completely unaffected by the whole situation. I, on the other hand, felt very affected. Terrified, in fact. And when the banging grew louder again, and she pushed off the desk, leaning in close, I stopped breathing.

  “Consider yourself warned.” Her warm breath brushed my ear, and I shuddered, finally exhaling.

  The door flew open, and my alarmed gaze landed on a slim girl with red braids wearing black jeans so skinny they look painted on. She looked familiar, but I had spent a whole week of lunchtimes eating and observing my classmates, so it was possible I’d seen her from my spot under the tree.

  “What the fuck, Kendall?” Her eyes widened.

  “Chill out; we were just getting acquainted,” Kendall said, moving for the door. “Isn’t that right, Becca?” She glanced back at me with an evil smirk. The way she had spoken my name caused chills to run up my spine. Even though I didn’t understand it, in that single word, I felt her hatred for me.

  The second they left, I sagged down onto the desk edge, and the door banger rushed into the room. “Jesus, are you okay?” She approached me.

  “Yeah.” I smiled weakly, a little unsure of what had just happened.

  “Don’t look so scared.” She laughed, “I don’t bite. Well, sometimes I do, but I prefer brunettes.” She winked, and I stuttered something. Did she mean … was she …

  “Gay? I don’t define myself that way. I like who I like.”

  “Sorry.” I flushed. It was like since arriving at Credence High, I’d lost all ability to communicate like a normal person. That, and my heart was still in my mouth.

  “For what? Besides, it distracted you, didn’t it?” She shrugged, chewing on her thumb. “So do you like to party?”

  “Party?”

  What was happening right now?

  “Yeah, you know. Music, beer, dancing, that kind of party?”

  “Hmm, yeah, I guess.” I glanced sideways, but no one seemed to be paying us any attention. There was no huddled group waiting for her to deliver the punch line. No one discreetly recording the moment she made a fool of me. Kendall wasn’t hovering around, waiting for me to get another social beat down. Which meant she was actually inviting me.

  Didn’t it?

  “Well, consider yourself invited. I’ll text you the details.” She held out her hand, and I stared at it blankly. “Cell phone, new girl. You do have one of those, right?” Her brows knitted together when I didn’t reply, still freaking out. “Geez, you’re weird.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  My insides clenched tight from how awkward I was acting. But after my run-in with Kendall, my brain wouldn’t function properly. The redhead waved her hand, snapping me out of it, and I dug around in my bag, handing her my cell phone. Her fingers flew over the screen, and when she was done, she held it out for me. “Okay, expect a text this evening. It’s kind of an exclusive thing, so don’t go spilling to anyone, got it?”

  “Hmm, okay.” It came out more of a question than a statement. Who the hell was I going to tell?

  “Hey, and if you’re not feeling it, no pressure. You just look like you could use a friend right now. I thought you might like to come and hang out. If you’re worried about Kendall, she won’t be there tonight.”

  “I do. I mean thanks.”

  “It’s cool. You going to be okay to get home?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, so I’ll see you tonight.” She’d almost made it to the door, when I rushed out, “Wait, what’s your name?” Actually, I had a ton of questions, but that was the one to spill out.

  “Scarlett. See you tonight, new girl.”

  I watched as she slipped into the line of kids heading to their next classes, as if she hadn’t just thrown me a lifeline.

  “Where is this party again?” Mom glanced back from the sink.

  “At a friend’s.”

  “Yes, Becca, I understood that part, but where exactly?”

  The text from Scarlett had come through an hour ago. Google maps informed me it was an address on the edge of town, but I’d lied and given Mom—and Dad when Mom called him up to insist he check it out—a fake address I pulled off Google. Letting me go to a party at a friend’s was one thing, but I doubted she was ready to let me go to a club.

  “I’m not sure, sweetie. I know your father said it’s safe enough, but we haven’t been here long. What if you get lost? Or something happens? Or—”

  “Mom,” I said, trying to sound understanding when really all I could think was, please don’t ruin the firs
t—and maybe the only—chance I get at having some kind of social life. After last period, I needed this, or there was a good chance I would hole up in my room and never come out.

  Ever.

  “I have to join the real world again. It’s senior year. Partying is like a rite of passage or something, and I really want to fit in. People haven’t exactly been welcoming.” My voice trailed off, not wanting to give Mom anything more to worry about.

  Dropping the bowl back in the soapy water, Mom dried her hands and turned to face me. “I know, baby, and we want nothing more than to get our old Becca back. Our fun-loving, smiling, happy girl.” Her eyes fluttered closed just for a second, and she inhaled deeply. When they opened again, I saw the lingering sadness behind her smile. “You’re right. Go have fun. Just be home by midnight and make sure you leave your friend’s address, okay? And be careful.” She didn’t say the words, but I got her unspoken message: no guys.

  I leapt up and went to her, unable to hide my smile. “Thank you. I know it’s hard for you, but this is a good thing, and you don’t need to worry. Promise.” My arms slid around her small frame, and I hugged her.

  “Wear something nice. Something other than those jeans and t-shirts you’ve been hiding under. Us Torrence girls are blessed with good figures for a reason, sweetie.”

  “Sure thing, Mom.”

  I left her drying the dishes while I went upstairs to get ready. Scarlett’s message had been brief: dress down, meet there. Part of me worried it was all some elaborate prank—another joke at my expense—but she seemed genuine. And I really wanted to make some friends. If I couldn’t make Credence High work, everything my parents had sacrificed would be for nothing. I refused to let that happen. No matter how hard it was going to be.

  Staring at the contents of my wardrobe, a pang of regret throbbed through me. I’d thrown out almost everything that reminded me of my life in Montecito. Floaty summer dresses, cropped pants, and pashmina sweaters. It didn’t leave much in the way of options for tonight, and I fingered through the t-shirts until I found something that might work.

  Once I had changed, I added some gloss to my lips and mascara to my lashes. I was brushing my hair when Mom walked into my room. “Oh, wow.” She eyed my outfit with surprise. “When I said nice, Becca, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”

  Placing the brush down on the dresser, I turned to her and looked down at myself. “Does it look that bad?”

  Remembering Scarlett’s dark jeans and low-cut top, I’d picked out a pair of black jeans and a black sparkly tank top that I’d worn once back in Montecito as part of a Halloween costume.

  “No, no.” Mom assured me. “It’s not bad …” She hesitated. “Just different. You look so different, baby.”

  “You’re kind of freaking me out, Mom. Different good or fashion-disaster different?”

  “Good, I think.” Her mouth pulled down at the corners as she tilted her head to the side, still looking at me. “Yes, good. Definitely good. I was just surprised.” Her lips curved into a smile, and I relaxed a little.

  “You’re sure?” I spun and faced myself in the mirror. Mom was right—I did look different. Dark honey blond hair cascaded over my bare shoulders and down my chest, contrasting with the shimmering tank top. The jeans, teamed with wedged sneakers, slimmed down my legs and made me look taller than I was.

  “You look beautiful, Becca.” Her eyes zeroed in on my wrist. “You’re not wearing your bracelet?”

  “Hmm, no, I don’t want to lose it,” I lied, forcing a smile. She wouldn’t understand. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

  A girl I barely recognized stared back at me, but maybe this was a good thing.

  A new look for a new Becca.

  Maybe this girl would stand a better chance of fitting in.

  By the time I reached the club, it was dark. Mom had wanted Dad to drive me, but that would have blown my cover, so I braved the bus system in town. Finally, after two wrong changes and almost forty minutes, I found the place, if you could call it that.

  Inside. Scarlett’s last text had said. No one looked twice at me as I joined the line and waited, nervous energy humming through my body as my eyes darted around the place. A one-story building and walls thick with graffiti, in what appeared to be an abandoned parking lot—it was definitely not the kind of place I was used to.

  “Over twenty-one?” a gruff voice asked, and my head whipped around to meet a hulk of a man's icy stare.

  “Hmm, no.”

  “Hand.” His eyes dropped to my hands, and I held one out limply. He stamped it and motioned to the door. “In you go.”

  Inside, music throbbed in thick, smoky air. People lingered in the long hallway, drinking and chatting, and dark recesses hid couples pressed up against each other, making out. Arms pressed against my sides, and I was careful not to bump into anyone or stare for too long as I made my way farther into the club, searching for Scarlett. My new look might have come as a shock to Mom, but as the hallway widened into a huge room and my gaze fell on a sea of tank tops, skinny jeans, and sneakers, I knew it was the right call.

  “Hey, new girl, you made it,” Scarlett yelled, waving me over. I lifted my hand in a small hello. “New girl, meet everyone. Everyone, this is new girl.” She lifted her beer and frowned at my hand. “Oh shit, tell me you didn’t get stamped?” Amusement flashed over her face, and the chorus of laughter from around the table caused a flush to spread up my neck and into my cheeks.

  “I- hmm…”

  “Someone get the girl a beer before she passes out.” Scarlett patted the seat beside her, sliding down to make more room. “Rule number one,” she said. “No one’s eighteen in here. Am I right?”

  The kids seated opposite us—a girl and a guy I didn’t recognize—nodded. The girl leaned forward, giving me more than an eyeful of her lacy bra. “It’s an open bar policy, if you catch my drift.” She waggled her eyebrows and smiled. “So you’re Becca, right? I’m Lilly; this is my boyfriend, Jay.”

  “Hey, I think we have Calculus together.” Jay flicked his chin in greeting. “How are you finding CH?”

  “It’s …” Swallowing hard, I tried to find the right words.

  “Shit.” Scarlett roared with laughter beside me. “But it’s ours.” She winked.

  “It’s interesting, that’s for sure.” I wondered if Scarlett had told her friends about my run-in with Kendall but figured she probably had from how nice they were all acting.

  “One beer.” A guy joined us and held out the drink. I took it, eyeing the bottle. “Hey, we’re all friends,” he said.

  “Okay,” I croaked, bringing it to my lips. “Thanks.”

  “Awesome. Now that you have a drink. Introductions. You’ve met Lilly and Jay. Your bartender here is Malachi. That’s Mischa and Eric.” She pointed at another couple seated to the side of us, and they smiled. I lifted a hand in a small wave, trying to store all of their names, but I was having a hard time keeping up. Scarlett nudged me and leaned in close. “Don’t look so worried. We’re good people.”

  I shuffled back, uncomfortable at her proximity, and forced my lips into a smile. “Thanks. It’s just been a while, you know.”

  A question flashed in her eyes, but to my relief, she smiled instead of asking it. “I hear ya. Well, now that you know everyone, want to dance?”

  Did I?

  A year ago, I would have been the first one on the dancefloor. I loved dancing. But that was before. Now, I was pouring my energy into not freaking out.

  “I’m good. Maybe later.”

  Her shoulders shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Scarlett turned to face her friends. “Are we dancing?”

  Everyone followed her over to the dancefloor. For a second, I thought Malachi might stay behind, but in the end, he smiled weakly and joined them. Leaving me alone. And once again, I found myself watching. Not only Scarlett and her group but also the other people dancing. Couples grinding on each other, bodies entwined, moving as one to the music. The
bass was heavy and the air in the room thick, charged with heat and sexual tension. I’d been to clubs before, but this was different.

  Raw …

  Edgy …

  Danger electrified the air.

  And after today’s events, I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  I jumped, startled by the voice. Heart pounding violently in my chest, I turned around to find Evan sitting beside me.

  How I had not felt him sit down next to me?

  “Evan?”

  “Math girl.” His eyes raked down my body, sparking with something, but it slipped away, and his gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” It came out a low growl, and the old Becca wondered what the hell his problem was. The new Becca, though … well, she croaked out, “I- I was invited.”

  “By who?” There was an accusatory tone to his voice as if he thought I was making it up. My body swivelled, and I nodded over at Scarlett. When I turned back, Evan was scrubbing his hand over his jaw. “You came with Peters? I didn’t know you were friends.”

  “Who?”

  “Scarlett, the redhead?”

  Were we friends? She helped me with Kendall and invited me here, hadn’t she? That had to count for something.

  Sitting a little straighter, I said, “Yeah, I guess so. What’s it to you, anyway?” You ignored me all week, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not with how he looked at me like he either wanted to kill me … or devour me. Heat spread through my stomach again. Was it normal for someone so … so annoying to affect you so much? My experience with guys was limited to Liam Deveroe, a complete momma’s boy with exceptional manners and the heart of a saint, and him … but that was different. Nothing about that had been right. I knew that now, which was why I needed to stay away from Evan. It was too soon, and he was intense. Too intense. I couldn’t handle him—the mood swings, his sullen attitude. He’d eat me alive, and when he was done, he’d toss out my leftovers without so much as an afterthought.

  Evan cocked an eyebrow. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”