Little White Lies

by Aimee Laine

  “Where did they come from, man?” Stuart asked.

  “Just a little something the Events Committee cooked up.” Wyatt walked Charley onto the dance floor. “We got the underclassmen to show up as paparazzi along with some of the parents.”

  The first to arrive, on purpose and alone in the space, she and Wyatt waltzed to a pure symphonic classic. The croon of a male’s voice pushed them forward. Left foot, left. Right foot, right. He led. She followed both Wyatt and the music. Barry Manilow? Charley grimaced to herself. Where did they find this DJ?

  She gave up trying to figure it out and put her focus on Wyatt as the piano keys tinkled along with the regular low swish of cymbals. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance,” she said.

  Their bodies moved to a slow cadence as words of love poured through the speakers and warmed her heart. No matter the singer, the lyrics were enough.

  Wyatt pushed them through the steps as the voice and keyboard came to a close. “I learned. For tonight.”

  Together, they made the rounds as the school’s silver and gold glittered above them, reflecting across a dozen disco balls and bouncing against the stage. Their eyes stayed riveted to each other as they came to a halt. Wyatt pressed forward as he dipped Charley into a low bow. He traced her contour with his eyes until they reached her lips where he placed the softest of kisses before he moved to her neck.

  Charley let go, her balance resting in his hands. She ran her fingers through his hair, buried her face in his neck and shifted to offer him a kiss better left for darkened spaces.

  Students who’d arrived while they danced broke into a rumble. Feet pounded and cell phones raised as shouts rang through. They gathered on the dance floor with and around them.

  Wyatt laid his lips against hers again before they rose together and moved to the DJ’s table. Cheers grew until Wyatt smiled and raised both arms. He flipped his watch toward himself, grabbed the mic and signaled with a wave of his hand that everyone should ‘get their groove on’ as the DJ said it.

  As laughter rang out, Charley smiled. She couldn’t remember a time she’d been happier.

  • • •

  Music blared, lights flashed, bodies bumped, and spiked punch crept its way into cups. Charley’s curls lost their strength as a light sheen of sweat coated them. Lily’s dress paid the price of her wild antics on the dance floor. With every song, the decibel level grew as did the speed at which dancers moved—Charley and Wyatt no different than the rest.

  “I’m gonna get a drink!” Charley cupped her hands, shouting over the beat of the music.

  Wyatt nodded and led her out of the foray toward an open table.

  They fell into chairs as Stuart and Lily did the same—new drinks in hand. Mr. Miter found the punch, the culprit and a replacement. The whispered groans from many disappointed students passed in near-silence from one to the other.

  Lily pulled her dress back down for the hundredth time after it inched its way up yet again. “This is fun!”

  “You guys act like you’ve never done this before.” Stuart’s voice, while clear to Charley, barely broke over the decibel in the room.

  Lily shook her head. “Haven’t!” As the music shifted, a new beat pumped out. Lily’s eyes grew large. “I love this song!” She pulled Stuart back out onto the dance floor.

  “He’s going to crash when he gets home.” Wyatt’s lips brushed Charley’s ear. “Want to get some air?”

  She nodded.

  They rose from the table, passed couples in various states of physical engagement and broke through the line of those who waited for the photographer. The cool night air rushed through the double doors as they pushed through.

  “Oh! It feels good out here.” Charley strolled to a low ledge and leaned her back against it.

  Wyatt shifted his body in front of hers; his hands found their place at her hips. Hers snuck their way up his chest. Eyes on one another, their lips met with no hesitation.

  “It does feel good.” Wyatt grinned.

  Charley moaned. “It’s quiet out here, too.”

  She could see at least two other couples who’d taken refuge in the night’s calm. Music from inside added to the ambiance of Christmas-light twinkles under a clear sky. The moon lit the space enough to see but not be seen.

  “I could stay out here all night.” She murmured words against his lips and started the kiss again.

  He teased her lips open, pressed with his tongue and built a fire within Charley. She grew as hot inside as she’d been indoors.

  His hands crawled up her uncovered back, caused a shiver to run her length. Their lips remained fixed as Wyatt tangled his fingers in her hair and curled a lock taut. His gentle tug brought forth a sigh of pure pleasure.

  Charley dug her nails into his back, raking a path through his vest. She wanted more. She wanted his skin against her own. She pulled her hands back around and glided up the front of his vest, undid each of the three buttons. Wyatt continued the kiss, shifting to give her better access.

  In one swift move, Charley pulled his shirt out from the waistband and ran her hands from his abs to his chest, leaving the buttons in place. Wyatt’s finger pushed at the fabric against her neck, let it fall to her elbow. He did the same to the other side. Their hands, given mutual access and unsaid permission, roamed super-heated surfaces.

  Their breaths came fast as they explored. Wyatt dropped one hand to Charley’s back and pressed her against the short wall—her only other support. His hand traveled down her leg until he found her knee and pulled it up to wrap around him. It would take no more than a flip of a zipper to drive their experience further.

  Charley realized the position they’d put themselves in well after the line had been crossed. She bit at his lip. “Wait.”

  Neither withdrew. Wyatt set off a lick of heat wherever his fingers grazed her skin.

  “Wait.” Charley stopped.

  He pulled his lips away, but kept her body melded to his. “Why?”

  She let herself fall against him. “One reason.” Or two. She glanced left and right. “Public.”

  Wyatt followed the path of her gaze each way, rubbed against her as he did. “Oh.”

  The exit doors burst open, letting the sounds of the party escape.

  “Yo, lovebirds.” Stuart stuck his head through. “Come dance.” He disappeared back inside and the doors slammed.

  Charley let a bubble of laughter escape. “You realize we’re half undressed, right?” She buried her face in his chest as her cheeks flamed. The heat would not cease. Behind them, the doors opened and closed twice. “Guess we oughta go.”

  “I don’t want to.” Wyatt kissed her again. “We could ditch.” He pressed his hips against hers.

  Charley groaned as she pushed him away. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold, Wyatt.” She held him back when he tried to touch her.

  Like a three-year-old in mid-pout, Wyatt relented and buttoned his vest while Charley straightened her gown. She rechecked his lines, and he spun her in a complete circle—all layers fell, no accidental tucks. Both had seen enough movies to know the redress told all.

  • • •

  As Charley re-entered the hall, thumps and vibrations assaulted her ears. Scores of dancers jostled her and Wyatt as they passed, and the DJ continued to roll one song into the next. Lily and Stuart danced, surrounded by a circle of enthusiastic admirers. Lily threw her hair back and spun as Stuart held her waist and jigged to her lower half.

  “She’s having fun.” One hand in Wyatt’s, Charley stood with him on the outside.

  Within, the crowd chanted “Stuart! Stuart!” and egged him on with calls, claps and cheers. The faster the two danced, the more pumped the crowd grew. They only slowed when the song reached its finale, and the entire group applauded. At Stuart’s nudge, he and Lily graced everyone with a bow.

  “Oh my!” Lily stumbled into Charley. “I’ve never had so much fun!”

  “You had some of the original punch, I think.�
�� Charley laughed.

  “No! I didn’t. Am just havin’ fun!” She drained a bottle of water in one shot. “I’m lettin’ go.”

  Stuart walked up, his own water in hand. He flopped onto a chair.

  “Havin’ fun, man?” Wyatt mock-punched his shoulder.

  Stuart pointed with his water to Lily. “She’s a maniac.” He added a wink that Lily returned with a giggle.

  “Wyatt?”

  He spun. “Julie! Hey!”

  Charley bristled—the hairs on her arms standing on end.

  Julie bit her lip as Charley saw her do so often when she tested the waters of a conversation.

  “Um …” Julie stood as though someone else might speak first.

  Wyatt’s eyes locked on Julie’s cleavage—everyone’s did. As much as it pleased Charley to see an interest outside of herself, Julie’s bold move on an otherwise engaged boy ripped Charley’s heart.

  “What’cha need Julz?” Wyatt asked when his gaze returned to Charley’s.

  Julie smiled. “I was wondering if … you wanted to dance?”

  Coy. Why else would you infringe on a girl, knowing she’s going to leave. Charley offered Julie one of her infamous smiles.

  “Oh. Oh!” Wyatt’s head whipped from Julie to Charley and back. “Where’s Brady?”

  “With his buds.” She thumbed across the room where a dozen guys stood, their faces the perfect picture of boredom. “He doesn’t dance.”

  “Oh.” Wyatt hung his head, switched to Charley again.

  Julie giggled.

  Rather than let it upset her, Charley decided to take the less jealous route. “Go.” She flicked her wrist toward the dance floor. Before it returned to her lap, Julie took Wyatt’s hand, pulling him from his chair.

  At that moment—or perhaps because Julie had made it the right time—the music turned soft and dreamy.

  “Go figure.” Charley’s gaze remained on Wyatt, his neck circled by Julie’s arms.

  “You okay?” Lily patted Charley’s leg with one hand. Blue eyes reflected a hurt Charley thought only she could feel.

  She nodded. “No.”

  “I’d be pissed as hell if Julie did that to me.” Stuart chugged from his water bottle.

  “S’okay, Stuart. I’m leaving anyway. It’s … good for him.” Charley shrugged, forced it to sound believable, though even Stuart would see right through her.

  Alone, her thoughts strayed to Wyatt and Julie. They swayed back and forth, hips connected, arms around each other—as intimate as he’d been with Charley. The way he held his body—stiff and controlled—suggested he’d not fallen under Julie’s spell.

  Why did I suggest he date her? Charley shook her head at herself.

  “Um, Charley?” Lily whispered inches from Charley’s ear.

  “Yeah?” She refused to take her eyes off the couple on the dance floor.

  “Did you know it’s ten ’til?”

  Charley widened her eyes, whirling toward Lily. “What? Midnight? It can’t be.” Charley searched for a clock—any of them—with a preference for one that ticked too slow.

  Lily pulled her cell phone from her clutch, turned it to Charley. The numbers blinked a bright green. Charley’s mouth fell open as the digits shifted to eleven fifty-one.

  Less than nine minutes. “No!” Charley’s voice turned to a whispered cry. She kept her voice low to prevent Stuart from overhearing. “It has to be wrong! Lil, it has to be!”

  Lily shook her head. “It’s not, honey.” She took Charley’s hands in hers, squeezed. “Go break in, dance with him until the last tick-tock. I’ll be outside with James.”

  “How will I know the time?” She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  “You’ll know.” Lily rose. One tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away with a finger.

  “Stuart?” Lily tapped him on the shoulder. “Gotta pee.”

  He saluted.

  Lily disappeared into the corridor. Charley knew it would be the last time he and the girl he knew as Leena would see each other.

  • • •

  Charley’s hands shook. Her body radiated a pain she considered worse than any shift she’d gone through before, and still she sat and watched Wyatt dance with Julie.

  “Get out there!” Stuart’s yell barely reached above the music. “Don’t let Julie spoil it!”

  She’d done so for far too long. Charley rose, wobbled on heels she’d grown fond of, kept her chin up, eyes on her prize, and mind tuned to the countdown, which would last for an additional eight minutes.

  Julie turned Wyatt to face away and offered Charley one long glare as she approached.

  Doesn’t she know she can have him? In less than eight minutes, no less? With greater determination, Charley marched toward them.

  She’d play it Julie’s way.

  Rather than a simple, polite tap on the shoulder, Charley ran her fingers up the back of Wyatt’s neck.

  His arms dropped from Julie with a thud against his pants, and he spun to Charley, grabbed her and crushed his lips to hers.

  With a huff of breath, Julie slunk away, a proverbial tail between her legs.

  “I thought you’d never break in.” Wyatt nipped at her lips. “That dance was awful.”

  “Here now.” They fit their bodies together once again, the music lulling them into an easy sway.

  Charley’s arms found his shoulders. Wyatt’s found her lower back. Yet, they moved only their lips, shifting and adjusting to take each other farther into passion.

  “I’ll never forget this,” she said.

  “What?”

  She hadn’t meant to speak out loud. She crushed her lips against his again. She’d wanted to curtail her thoughts, to secret them away.

  “Okay, folks! We have five minutes! Five minutes left. Let’s wind this party down with two favorites. First, a classic.” Barry White’s wholesome and deep voice took over.

  “So.” Wyatt pulled her tight. “Stuart and I have a little extra planned for tonight.”

  “You—you do?” Charley faked a cough to cover the hitch in her breath.

  “Oh, yeah.” He smiled against her lips.

  As Barry spun a tale of love that resonated as deep as his voice, Wyatt’s fingers roamed Charley’s sides, teased small strokes that tickled and aroused. As his hands moved up, he extended hers above her head and into the air—a position she’d only ever seen prone. He walked the length of her arm with his fingers as lips and tongue slid from side to side, sending shivers to her toes.

  Their hip’s sway matched the melody. She let her arms float down until her fingers tangled in the silk of his hair again. More sensual than sex itself, they moved together.

  “Wyatt?” She mouthed against him.

  “Hmm?” His lips found new spots to lay their mark. He kissed her cheek and the length of her neck which stretched and arched in instinctive desire.

  I can’t do this! I can’t let him go again!

  “Last dance! This is the last dance!” the DJ announced. “Good night, Barry; hello, Ricky!” “Private Emotion” hit the queue.

  Ricky Martin’s voice rang through the room as dancers swayed in time with its rhythm.

  Charley pulled Wyatt’s face to hers. Tears burned in her eyes, but she held them in check.

  As the words to the song echoed, she considered the impossible. Can I just tell him? What if he understands? She shook her head at herself, forced herself to stop before he registered the motion.

  Their lips ranged across each other’s as they moved to the music.

  No, I can’t. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. The image of James, Lily and Cael all passed through her mind—the promises she’d made to each of them a distant memory.

  The lyrics stole her thoughts. Nearly overcome, she let a tear fall.

  “Mira?” He pulled her face away. His hands cupped her cheeks. His thumb traced the path made by the tear.

  Charley’s knees wobbled, hands shook. Her vision blurred but not b
efore she caught a glimpse of the black that invaded the ends of her curls. Oh, god no!

  “Wyatt.” Charley whimpered as the shimmer and pain radiated up from her toes. No! No! No! Not yet! More time! “Wyatt!” She clung to him, heard him respond with deep concern, though she no longer registered the words. Her own emotions and pain grew too great. Charley kept her eyes low.

  In one swift move, she pulled his face down to hers, kissed him with a ferocity she hoped he would understand. With her hands on his cheeks, his wrapped around her wrists, she flashed her eyes up at him.

  He gasped and let go.

  Charley grabbed his hands, drew them together, laid a kiss on his knuckles and whispered, “I love you, Wyatt!” before she took off. Running to the exit, she pushed past dancers and ignored Stuart as he called her name.

  The shimmer built to a burn. Her motion pressed it further, faster. Tears mixed with sweat and the heat of the change. Still, she ran. Her shoes clicked against tile once she pushed through the doors. The outside air cooled the surface of her skin. Underneath, she raged with anger at herself, and with fear and worry for Wyatt.

  Her broken heart bore the worst of the pain.

  She’d shocked him then disappeared, left him with no explanations and no warning.

  Charley made it to the parking circle, her eyes glazed from the shift and tears.

  James met her, guiding the way to the car where Lily sat.

  “Oh, god! James! What have I done?”

  “Nothing. You’ve done nothing but fall in love.” His hand stroked the back of hers.

  As he tucked her into the front seat, Wyatt yelled into the night the name Charley would never hear again.

  “Mira!”

  7

  “What the hell?” Wyatt said as Stuart slid to a stop next to him.

  The sedan Mira hopped into zoomed out of range, its red lights fading in the distance. Wyatt punched his palm with his fist.

  “She in that car?” Stuart dropped his hands to his knees.

  “Everything okay out here?” Mr. Miter said from a crack in the door.

  Had no one but him and Stuart noticed his girlfriend run like a banshee through a crowded room? What they said about witnesses must be true: they miss the obvious. “Yeah.”