One Little Lie: a hate to love rom-com

by Whitney Barbetti

  Keane shoved a marshmallow onto the end of his stick and attempted to hold it above the fire like Hollis did, but after less than a minute he gave up and stuck it right through the flames. “I like it burnt.”

  “But then it gets stuck in your teeth,” Navy protested. “Gross.”

  “It’s called a toothbrush, Navy.” Keane laughed and popped the whole stick into his mouth, biting the end of the marshmallow off.

  “If you’d just waited, that middle part would’ve been soft.” Hollis rotated her stick and I found myself mesmerized by her long fingers, how they delicately turned the stick like she was operating heavy equipment, something that needed precision and patience to be operated. “Like this,” she said with a little sigh as she pulled it back from the fire.

  “Here,” Navy said, handing me a graham cracker topped with chocolate. She handed another graham cracker square to Hollis and I held up my half to her as she carefully placed her marshmallow right on the center of the chocolate and brought the top down. As she slid it out, Keane groaned. “Wow, that looks sexy.” The stick came out clean and she set it aside. The marshmallow oozed out of the sides, coating her fingers with it.

  She laughed, seemingly delighted by the mess she’d made.

  I didn’t know if it was the sweet sound of her laugh or the way she looked, or a combination of both that caused me to take her hand in mine and bring her thumb to my mouth. The smear of marshmallow was almost as irresistible as her, but when I slowly brought it into my mouth, I saw the surprise in her eyes and the little O her lips made. I grazed my teeth across her finger, feeling parts of me wake up now that I had done such a sensual thing. When I finally released her thumb, the bubble she and I existed in popped.

  “Get a room,” Todd said from across the fire, earning a few chuckles from his friends. But I sensed some jealousy in his voice.

  “We have one,” I said, giving him a toothy grin.

  It took him a minute to think of a reply. “Well, might as well go make use of it.”

  “Oh.” I leveled him with my gaze, my arm tightening around Hollis. “That wasn’t near enough foreplay for me, Todd. I feel sorry for your dates if that’s enough for you.”

  Navy gasped.

  Keane laughed and spilled his beer all over himself.

  Keane’s friends laughed and punched Todd in the shoulder.

  And Hollis, most shockingly of all, leaned until she was resting her body weight on me.

  30

  Hollis

  I didn’t know if it was the wine or the company or the warmth of the fire, but I felt myself soften and relax. Even with the addition of the guys Keane had invited, the group still felt cozy. Maybe it was the fact that they were complete strangers. I didn’t feel like I had to act for their benefit, so instead I could just be. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Navy asked, snuggled up in a flannel blanket, her legs pulled to her chest on the chair. The air had cooled over the last hour we’d been outside, but being on Adam’s lap, with his arm securely around me, kept me warm enough that I didn’t take the blankets Keane had offered earlier.

  “I was thinking of a hike. There’s a well-worn path on the other side of the lake that zip zags up into the mountain.” Keane looked across the fire at Todd. “Or we could take the straight up route, though that’s a bit harder on the ol’ lungs. The switchbacks are a bitch, but they’re not gonna exert you as much.”

  “It’s fine,” Todd said with a wave. “I can do whatever everyone else wants to do.”

  “What do you mean? Are you injured?” Navy asked him.

  “I had ankle surgery about a year ago, but I need a revision eventually. It’s still a little rough on inclines.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you have surgery?”

  Todd rolled up the bottom of his sweats, revealing a long scar along the side of his leg. “Car accident in New Zealand last year. Broadsided.”

  “New Zealand?” I asked, my interest piqued. “What were you doing there?”

  Todd turned to me. He was attractive, close buzzcut, well filled in beard. He gave me a smile that was warm, friendly, and made me feel—for the first time since joining them by the fire—slightly self-conscious. “I was there surfing for a competition. Nothing big leagues, mostly for fun.” He set his foot back on the ground and leaned forward on his knees, the muscles of his shoulders and arms straining against his tee. “You’ve been?”

  I shook my head. “But I’d love to go.”

  “Hollis went to Bolivia this summer,” Navy offered and I felt a half dozen eyes turn to me. “She loves to travel.”

  “Bolivia?”

  “I helped rebuild an orphanage,” I said. “And studied. It’s my major—cultural anthropology. I wanted to study the culture, too.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Todd said, and he seemed genuine. “Where to next?”

  Adam’s legs shifted under my butt and I put an arm around his back to steady myself. His arm around my waist tightened, gluing me solidly to him.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, and the reminder of my dad’s expectations soured whatever warm and cozy feelings I had. “I might go to law school,” I said, but my heart wasn’t in the statement and I knew Navy was desperate to say something. I glanced at her, waiting until we held eye contact, so she wouldn’t utter a word.

  “Law school,” Todd said, exhaling. “So I can call on you the next time I need to sue someone for an injury?” He laughed.

  “Sure,” I said, but again there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in the one-word reply. I wanted to be hopeful about a future where I pursued what I wanted, but I couldn’t be full of hope when that freedom came at a cost. I had three options: I needed to convince my parents that I was serious about Adam and hope that they amended the terms of the trust so I could still receive the benefit upon my graduation; I needed to suck it up and go to law school; or, I needed to tell the truth and figure life out on my own. Could I deal with my dad constantly reminding me of his disappointment in the person I’d become if I chose the first or third option? Could I live with disappointing myself if I chose the second option? The first two options meant I would be lying to someone: my parents or myself. And the third option sounded unbelievable. I had never been fully independent. I was the youngest child, the sheltered child, the child who shouldered her parents’ expectations. Could I shake that part of me and grow up enough to take care of myself?

  It was such a first world problem I had, which was why I didn’t like to talk about it. Boo hoo, your parents pay most of your bills including your college. What could you possibly have to complain about? I had heard it enough from most of the people I ever tried to talk to. They didn’t understand the crippling pressure, the expectations to be perfect, the lack of choices I really had.

  But listening to my internal dialogue whine about my problems when I had witnessed, first-hand, problems that I would never have to experience—a lack of fresh water, for example—made me feel very small.

  “I guess I’d need your number for that, though, right Hollis? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  Adam stiffened under me, so I turned to look at him. There was a tick in his jaw, and his lips were in a flat line. Was he mad? He shifted again, this time rubbing a hand up my back. The touch was so comforting that it was easy to press into it, to relish it fully.

  “I’m beat,” Keane said, standing and stretching. “Ready for bed, Navy?”

  His friends made noises across the fire at that and Keane shot them a look. “We’re friends, dickheads.” But Navy paid them no mind, standing and looping her arm in Keane’s. She looked back at me and I nodded, knowing she was checking on me without saying a word.

  “I’m tired too,” I said, slipping off of Adam’s lap and waving goodnight to Keane’s friends. I turned to Adam and he caught my hand as I waved and tugged me closer. My heart fell and I nearly tripped over it as I leaned down. With his eyes locking with mine, Adam turned my hand over and pressed a kiss at the
center of my palm. Tingles shot through me, starting at my wrist and ending low in my belly as I stared at him, more than a little stunned.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” Adam said, and his eyes held a promise I was equal parts excited and nervous for.

  I pulled away from him and jogged to catch up with Navy and Keane. I slung my arm around her shoulders and she said, “I gotta pee. You?”

  “Why do girls pee in groups?” Keane asked. “Are you afraid the toilet’s gonna suck you in?”

  “Maybe we believe in safety in numbers,” Navy said, pushing Keane away. “Put on a movie—a good one—I’ll be in in a minute.” She led me down the hall, into the master bathroom.

  “Whose room is this?” I asked as she closed the door. “You’d think that Keane would get the master.”

  “Three of his friends have to share this room. Not sure how they’re all going to fit on that bed.”

  “Maybe one of them will be on the floor,” I said, facing the mirror. What little makeup I had worn that day looked like it had already melted off my face. I rubbed the skin under my eyes, noting the dark circles I needed to do a better job covering up.

  “You tired?” Navy asked as she peed in the water closet, the door slightly ajar.

  “A little,” I admitted. “It’s been a long week.”

  “You’re the only person I know who goes so hard to study the first week of class.”

  “’By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail,’” I replied. “The more I read, the easier the class comes to me.”

  “And that’s why people take advantage of you.” I heard the toilet flush and she came out to wash her hands, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “You shouldn’t let them do that; you work hard for your grades.”

  It was the same argument we always had. Tori would have approached the topic more directly with, “Fuck ‘em,” but Navy was more pragmatic. She had a big heart, gave love even to people who treated her unkindly. “Easier said than done.”

  “I think you’re so preoccupied with pleasing people that you don’t think about what pleases you. What would please you?”

  “Right now?” I rubbed the circle under my eyes. “Sleep.”

  “Are you nervous about sleeping in the same room as Adam?”

  I shook my head. “It’s weird. I’m more comfortable with him than I’ve been with any other guy. But the tension…”

  “You know how you get over the tension?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What, are you going to suggest sex again?”

  Navy’s eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth comically. “Of course not!” But then she winked. “It’s just sex.”

  “You sound like Tori.”

  “Really?” She opened a cabinet. “I mean, if it’s something more for you then that’s different. But your first real boyfriend—Willy, right?—wasn’t something more for you, was he?”

  I hated reliving that five-minute meeting of flesh behind the bathrooms in Wyoming—not just because the location wasn’t exactly romantic but because the guy had been someone chosen somewhat randomly. “No, he wasn’t.”

  “So, is Adam?”

  I didn’t want her to see the blush I knew was creeping up my neck. “Yes, he is. But I don’t know. It’s basically like I’m a virgin anyway, for as much experience as I have.”

  She handed me a washcloth, turned on warm water, and pulled some fancy makeup remover from the cupboard, squirting it onto the washcloth. “I don’t want to pressure you, but if Adam is someone you want, then why not? You’re an adult, for goodness sakes. If you want the sex, and if he wants the sex, get the sex.”

  I was glad to have my face covered by the warm washcloth, so she couldn’t see my expression. Did I want that with Adam? I think the answer was an obvious and emphatic yes. But we hadn’t spoken alone, at length, since last night. And I already felt awkward, not knowing what exactly was going on between us.

  “But at least take the first step in giving him a kiss,” Navy said on the other side of my washcloth. “That’ll help to get the tension out of the way.”

  I pressed my hands over my eyes, feeling the heat of the washcloth more firmly against my skin. “No, it won’t.”

  Navy was silent for a long moment, like she knew I’d just confessed something. Then, I felt her fingers at the side of my face as she began to peel the washcloth away. “Um, what?”

  I let the washcloth go, feeling my cheeks go pink. “Yeah…”

  “When? Tonight?”

  I shook my head. “At Casey’s birthday, when I chased after the paper plates.”

  A light dawned in her eyes. “I knew something had happened. You looked even more flushed than usual. I thought you two either bickered or almost kissed. But you actually kissed!” Navy clapped, absolutely delighted. “How was it?”

  Needing to occupy my hands, I rinsed the washcloth and met her gaze in the mirror. “It wasn’t bad.”

  She frowned. “That’s not a glowing review.”

  How did I explain to Navy that it’d been the best first kiss I had ever had, but then I’d gone and ruined it? I didn’t understand my own feelings. I’d wanted it—but hadn’t known I’d wanted it. And then I’d been afraid of it, so I’d minimized the effects of that kiss to protect myself. I said as much to Navy and she sighed, placing her hands on her hips as she looked me over.

  “Of course you’re afraid. This is all so new.”

  “Well. And last night…” I rinsed the washcloth. “After dinner with my parents, we went back to his house and…”

  “You little minx!” she exclaimed. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing.” But I frowned, because nothing was far from the truth. “We kissed. It was…great. And then it stopped and then I think I realized that I had bigger feelings for Adam than I am prepared for.”

  “Maybe he has those same big feelings for you. I saw the way he looked at you, the way he held you, tonight.”

  I knew he found me attractive. He’d surely paid me enough compliments the night before, but that didn’t mean he was at the same level I was.

  Not something. Everything.

  It’s what he’d said. But maybe everything for him looked different than it did for me.

  “Maybe he has feelings that aren’t hate feelings,” I finally said. “But I don’t think they’re advanced far enough to be like feelings. If we weren’t forced together, he wouldn’t even be this far.”

  “You know, for someone so smart you sure say not-so-smart things.”

  I rolled my eyes and dried my hands on the towel. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, Navy. I don’t want to fantasize. Lord knows I’ve done enough of that already.” I thought of how silly I’d been in high school, when I’d slid that note into his locker. What had I expected? That he’d fall over in excitement to talk to me? Telling him now it was me would only be more humiliating. “I don’t want expectations.”

  When Navy remained silent, looking me over curiously, I shook my hands impatiently. “What?” I asked.

  “It’s just that you always have expectations. You never plan anything without an idea of how it might turn out. You weigh pros and cons and you make lists and you exhaust every detail of your plans until they’re executed. To hear you giving up expectations sounds unlike you.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I’m trying to let go a little.” If I wanted a future that included traveling to countries in need of humanitarian aid, I’d have to let go of expectations anyway. I glanced at my watch, realizing the late hour and turned to Navy. “I really am tired, and if we’re going to hike tomorrow I need at least a few hours of sleep.” I didn’t include the part about wanting to get to bed before Adam did, but that was the real reason.

  Navy wrapped me in a hug and it was pure instinct to resist, to pull myself back. Maybe it was because I was tired: emotionally and physically, but I melted into it, letting her warmth warm me too. Hugs from Navy were like a sedative when you desperately needed one.

  It t
ook me a minute to navigate my way to the bedroom Adam and I were sharing, as the house was darker than it’d been when we’d arrived, but when I found the door, I pushed it open and immediately closed it. I took a deep breath in and began rooting through my suitcase.

  “That was a heavy sigh,” came a voice from the far end of the room. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pressing a hand to my speeding heart. “Adam,” I gasped. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

  A lamp turned on and he sat up in the bed. He was wearing pajama bottoms and an old concert tee, his hair ruffled like he’d spent a few minutes running his hands through it.

  The bed was king-sized, so realistically we could each take up our respective halves and not even touch one another. But Adam stood and motioned to the bed. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be, but if you’re more comfortable with me sleeping on the floor, I’m fine with that.”

  “No,” I said with a vigorous shake of my head. “It’s a big enough bed, it’s fine.” I wrung my hands on the tank and the shorts I’d brought to change into. I could go back into the hall to the bathroom and change, but then again the room had been pitch black before Adam had spoken. Did it matter if I changed in the room, in the dark? “Would you mind turning off the light?” I held the clothes up in my hand.

  “One sec.” Adam climbed out of bed and walked over to the foot of the bed, where a small cooler sat. He reached in and produced a can of diet soda, then walked to my side of the bed and set it on the nightstand. I tilted my head, eyeing it with confusion. “Navy said that you usually drink a diet soda right before you fall asleep.”

  I knew that he’d asked Navy some things about me, but the fact that he’d remembered that detail, among all things, surprised me. “I do. Helps me sleep.”

  “It’s funny—most people I know cut off their caffeine intake after noon or else they’re up all night.”

  “I know. But strangely, it helps me fall asleep.” I set my clothes on the side of the bed and touched the top of the can. I turned to Adam, who was close enough for me to reach out a hand and touch. But I didn’t. “Thank you. That was really kind of you.” It was one of my nightly rituals, but I had been so frazzled about the trip to the cabin that I hadn’t even thought to pack extra sodas.