ADVANCE PRAISE FOR WHEN I LIED
“When I Lied was a roller coaster for me. The highs were so high I felt my heart might take flight; the lows made me feel as if there were a literal hole in my chest. The dichotomy of Kate and Oliver are what really sold this for me. Too much light and you get burned, too much darkness and you wither away.”
—Sarah Arndt, A Literary Perusal
“Michelle has captured the raw and elusive beauty of true love in all of its heartbreaking glory and she does it with a soulful flair that will leave you smiling through tears.”
—Autumn Davis, Agents of Romance
“When I lied is unlike Michelle's other books. While equally as good, this story is quite different. This riveting story will take you on Kate’s journey where one seemingly harmless lie could quite possibly ruin someone she’d give anything not to hurt.”
—H.P. Davenport, Author of Unspoken Words
“Finish your work. Run your errands. Order pizza for dinner…because once you pick up this book full of twists, turns, and little white lies turning into big, bad regretful ones, you will NOT want to put it down! Michelle Kemper Brownlow, once again, had this reader glued to every word!”
—Jillian Stein, Read Love Blog
“I love me some Michelle Kemper Brownlow. Another great read!”
—Holly Baker, Holly’s Hot Reads
Lexi is just the sort of girl a dark and brooding rockstar like Oliver Walt would fall for. Beautiful. Wild. Fun. The only problem…?
LEXI IS A LIE
Bookish Kate Green knew she needed to brush up on her social skills before her first year of college, so she created an online persona to chat and flirt. And who better to practice on than talented and tormented rock frontman Oliver Walt? After all, the lead singer of her favorite band would hardly notice one more adoring fan. Except…he does. And with a single private message, Kate’s world changes forever.
Then Oliver wants to meet in person. Kate knows she has to come clean, but things are never that easy, so instead she enlists the aid of her beautiful and calculating study partner…which turns out just the way you might expect. Now, with Gretchen refusing to stop being Lexi, the lies grow bigger by the hour—and so do the stakes. Kate’s heart and Oliver’s life.
WHEN I LIED
Michelle Kemper Brownlow
www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.
WHEN I LIED
Copyright © 2016 Michelle Kemper Brownlow
All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.
ISBN 978-1-944262-17-4
Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar
www.gopublished.com
Sometimes you fall lucky in love.
But, sometimes, it takes a walk through Hell to get there.
This book is for all you hopeless romantics.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe every ounce of gratitude for this story coming to fruition to my husband, Ken, who has tolerated years of me waffling back and forth between passions. It is because of him that my first novel, In Too Deep, was ever penned, and when he walks in the door after work and the house looks like a bomb went off he just smiles and says, “You got some writing done today.” You’re my favorite. You’re my life. You’re my very, VERY best friend. Thank you for letting me play with my imaginary friends all day!
To my two oldest kids, Matthew and Emily, and their friends, Katie and Alexa, THANK YOU for asking me to drive you to see The 1975 in December of 2015. As I stood in a packed crowd of concert-goers, this story was born. You don’t ever write a novel in a vacuum. There are always details of your story that were inspired by someone or an experience with someone. Sometimes whole plots are born when you least expect it…and the people you were with when it happened, whether they know it or not, had a hand in the magic of that moment. So, Matthew, Emily, Katie and Alexa, thanks for the magic!
To my youngest, Izaiah, thanks for keeping me grounded and not letting me get too far into my head that I miss all the scooter stunts, skateboard tricks and football plays. You’re the best, buddy.
And then there is my dear, dear friend, Heather Davenport (Naughty & Nice Book Blog, Book Plug Promotions) who is my soul sister! I am so glad you messaged me the moment you and Gracie connected for the first time. And I’m so thankful for our strong bond that was formed long before we’d ever even met. I can’t wait to see where this publishing gig takes us and I’m glad to have you to bounce ideas off of! I heart you!
There are so many book bloggers who give me their opinions, read excerpts or whole chapters on the fly, share their ideas about direction and tone, and are basically at my fingertips daily.
Sarah Arndt (A Literary Perusal), you rock! Thank you for the countless hours of support while I added more plot twists and changed character names and asked your opinion each and every time. And your review of When I Lied still brings me to tears! Thank you! You have blessed me immeasurably.
And Autumn Davis (Agents of Romance), your love (and lust) for Oliver makes me giddy! I knew I wrote a believable character when your #MarryMeOliver started showing up on Twitter! I love that we share the passion for superior music and burning hot rock stars. Thank you so much for your support, it means the world to me.
Jillian Stein (Read-Love-Blog), Kim Person (Stickgirl Reviews), Holly Baker (Holly’s Hot Reads), the three of you have been there with me since the very beginning. Your support has kept me going and getting to know each of you on a personal level has blessed me beyond words. Thank you for your passion for a good book and for always being in my cheering section! Love you girlies!
Jenni Wurtz, your willingness to make time to read anything I send your way humbles me. I love your energy, your feedback and your friendship!
And, to the people who literally made this happen:
Brenda Drake, your tenacity in running all the Twitter events makes you a goddess in my mind! Because of you and your brain child, #PitMad, I connected with so many agents and publishers and landed the deal for this book! Thank you! Kate thanks you, too!
Finally, to everyone at Boroughs Publishing Group, especially Jenni Hendriks, for falling in love with Kate and Oliver’s story and making When I Lied a dream that became tangible in a very short time frame. You guys ROCK!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
WHEN I LIED
One
OliverPh5: I’ve enjoyed your insightful replies to my tweets. Thank you for the reprieve from groupies.
When the elusive Oliver Walt and I spoke via direct message for the first time the day after my high school graduation I thought I’d die. My heart raced and I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know my cheeks were flushed. I was glad he couldn’t see me.
Me: Oliver, a DM! I’m honored. How’s the tour?
OliverPh5: Busy as hell.
Oliver was the lead singer of British indie rock band Phobia5, who skyrocketed to celebrity status soon after their first video went viral on YouTube sometime during my junior year of high school. I’d been fascinated by the band’s unique vibe and lyrical symbolism ever since.
Me: And yet, you’re messaging me.
OliverPh5: The last reply was poignant – “You don’t know the treasures you’ll find if you don’t dig a little first.”
Me: Your tweet – “Keep it buried. No sense breaking into uncharted territory.”
OliverPh5: That’s the one. Your translation was spot on!
Me: You tried talking to a counselor.
OliverPh5: Damn. You’re good. I was hoping people would think it was lyrics.
Me: Most probably did.
OliverPh5: But not you?
Me: I’ve apparently chosen my major wisely.
OliverPh5: Which is why I wanted to take our convos private, if you don’t mind.
Me: Why’s that?
OliverPh5: I’m desperate for meaningful conversations and deeper relationships. All I do is thwart crazies, answer ?s, take red-eyes & sing.
OliverPh5: Something about you and our sweet banter over the past couple months has been so refreshing. I like it. I need it.
Before we started talking, Oliver’s lyrics touched me on a level I couldn’t explain. And after his first DM I started to look closer at interviews with Phobia5 to see if I could decipher where the inspiration for his lyrics came from. I soon found myself dissecting the human condition and I wanted more. Then, two months ago, while moving into my single dorm at the University of Maryland, Oliver and I spent the entire day talking via DM, and the intensity of our connection grew exponentially. It was both bizarre and beautiful at the same time.
There was no doubt Oliver struggled with something dark. He was mysterious and that made him sexy as hell. In the many videos I’d watched of their performances I could see how, in some ways, music was Oliver’s therapy. But it didn’t take a psychology degree to see it was also what brought his pain to life and made it his constant companion. His own misery was his addiction.
When the corner of his mouth lifted in an attempted smile and his eyes rolled back in his head, it was as if he delivered his drug of choice directly into the pulse that kept him going: his fans. And this got him as high as a syringe stuck in his arm. I studied his lyrics and tried to get to know a complicated, broken stranger through a maze of innuendo and twisted analogy. To say I was fascinated by him was a gross understatement.
“Earth to Kate!” An ear-splitting clash of cheap tableware meeting the dining hall floor and a simultaneous jangle of bouncing silverware accompanied Charlie Taylor, sophomore and Beta Sig brother, as he broke into a scene I had been thoroughly enjoying…alone. I looked up into his big brown eyes. They gave me chills and not in an altogether good way. “Anyone sitting here?” He motioned with his dinner tray toward the empty chair next to me.
“Nope. I was just leaving.” I turned to the girls I was sitting with. “Guys, you don’t mind having dinner with Charlie, do you? I’m headed back to my room to study.” The girls I was closest to from my dorm floor were all juniors. MacKenna, Ally, Emily, Hayden and Jules all grinned and gave Charlie the attention he needed to feel welcome, which he got off on.
“But I wanted to sit with you.” He turned his body toward me so only I could hear his disappointed yet flirty tone.
“Sorry, Charlie.”
“Ha. I see what you did there.” He winked and clicked his tongue. “Catch ya later, Kate.” He sat down and slid his chair in. “Ladies…” They all giggled at him. I smiled politely and immediately tried to peel the visual of him hovering over me from the back of my eyes and headed for the door.
Charlie and I had hooked up a little over a month ago at the first U of M party the girls dragged me to. I drank a little too much and had gone out on the porch for some fresh air. Charlie and all his charm joined me. We hung out and talked for a long time. He was a nice guy with a sexy, charismatic personality and a smile that could melt your panties. My knees went weak when he kissed me and when he walked me back to my dorm I invited him in and lost my virginity.
He was the epitome of “fraternity boy.” Tall and rugged, his dark hair was a little too long and the curly ends stuck out from under his backwards baseball cap he rarely took off. He had dimples in his ever-rosy cheeks and an ornery, raucous personality that made him fun to be around.
If it weren’t for that night, I’d probably be interested in dating Charlie. But I was embarrassed by what I’d let happen less than two weeks after starting college. It just wasn’t how I’d imagined my first time would be, and I didn’t want Charlie to get the impression I’d be that girl every time I was out at Beta Sig. So, I’d been cock-blocking him ever since.
Truth be told, there was a part of me that wished I could let loose a little and not take everything so seriously or feel the need to stick to such rigid, self-restrictive boundaries. I knew it would take a little time to get used to being social. Which is why I had turned to Twitter over the summer—to get my feet wet in the social side of collegiate life. I set up a Twitter account and created a fake online persona so I could learn the ropes without the threat of making a fool of myself. And I fared well. It was a way to be responsible Kate Green in real life, but also collegiate social butterfly Lexi Cartwright online. Seemed harmless. I was determined to make the transition to college life—and all the extracurricular activities it had to offer—seamlessly. If only I could increase my alcohol tolerance in a similar harmless way.
I walked into my dorm, still thinking about Charlie’s smile and regretting his first impression of me. I stripped down to take my habitual end-of-the-day shower when my phone buzzed from the pocket of the jeans I’d just tossed on the floor. I threw on my robe, twisted my hair up into a messy bun, grabbed my phone and flopped down on my bed. There was one wrinkle I hadn’t anticipated when I created Lexi…
OliverPh5: Fuck counseling. I’m not going back.
Me: You fired another one?
OliverPh5: She’s a bitch.
Me: Don’t be so dramatic, O!
I never imagined my favorite rock star would DM me. Of course he wasn’t direct messaging plain old Kate. I was certain that without Lexi’s persona grabbing everyone’s attention, Oliver never would have sent that first message.
We’d only been messaging one another for three months, but already Oliver knew I wouldn’t tolerate his mini tantrums. In person, I wasn’t sure I’d have the balls to stay firm with him, but as Lexi, it seemed to come naturally. I’d convinced myself Lexi was good for me. And probably good for Oliver as well.
OliverPh5: Love, your track record of bull’s-eye tweet & lyric dissection tells me YOU would make a great counselor.
Me: Someday, Oliver. But, right now I’m only 18, I can’t be your therapist.
At first Lexi was uber-sexy and tweeted about parties and boys. But then I decided I didn’t want Lexi to be so different from me that I’d have to fill a notebook with random facts to keep up with her details. So, I mellowed her out a little. Other than her brunette profile picture (I was blonde), her sexy nature and her name—oh, and bigger balls—Lexi and I were very similar.
OliverPh5: You bailing on me, Lex?
Me: Not a chance.
I was voted Most Loyal Friend in my high school yearbook. Oliver’s neuroses wouldn’t scare me away; Oliver and I were roughly the same age but almost complete opposites.
I went to a small high school in Pennsylvania. I grew up focused on grades and getting into a good college. Mount Gretna High was big enough to have cliques, but small enough to only have a couple. And because of that, I made the cut for the popular crowd even though my schedule was a bit top-heavy. More studying than partying.
I’d read that in high school, Oliver was more into his music and playing all-night gigs than he was concerned about his grades. He partied, experimented with drugs and, according to Rolling Stone, had lots and lots of sex. And because of his obvious vices, he dropped out mid-way through his junior year. But Oliver didn’t need school to be brilliant. You only had to listen to a couple of his songs to be blown away by his lyrical genius that built elaborate and stunning allegory. And he was so pretty. Long, thick, dark, shiny, luscious curls that bounced around dark eyes, a sharp jawline and perfect skin. He was beautiful.
And I was ordinary. I’d been graced with thick blonde hair, a slim physique and big blue eyes, long lashes and straight teeth. I can’t say I’d ever been self-conscious of my looks, but I spent more time with my nose in a book than I did in front of a mirror. I never wore makeup; I rarely did anything with my hair but throw it up in a bun after my shower. Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t live in sweats and sneakers. I enjoyed cute outfits and jewelry but it wasn’t something I overdid. I was brought up with the less-is-more mindset, except when it came to studying.
But, Oliver and I were similar in our strong sense of empathy. I say similar because his crazy, sensitive soul went even deeper than mine. Deeper than most. Everything he heard, read or saw had the potential to cut him dangerously deep and bleed him of his emotions. And, it only took hearing one explanation of how his empathy helped him to translate the world around him for me to be thankful my empathy stopped where it did.
When I Lied Page 1
