While we changed out of our dresses each of our phones pinged and chimed with each tagged black dress photo posted online.
I hadn’t even noticed music was playing in the dressing room area until a voice that took my breath away bled through the speakers and straight into my heart. Lyrics that tore me wide open every single time I heard them. Especially now.
“Feed me. Feed me.
Free me. Free me.
Say you need me.
Please need me.
Need me.
Am I unreachable?
Unrecognizable?
Unrequited?
Don’t fight it.
Don’t fight it.
Please need me
You don’t see me.
You simply don’t see me.
Free me.
Free me.
Free me.”
I let the sound of Oliver’s voice wash over me, and for a moment I allowed myself the freedom to forget the last two days. I rewound time. The innocence Oliver and I shared before the Billabong Festival was priceless. I let my heart fill up on that tranquility.
“Did anyone see the pic of Oliver Walt and that girl on Twitter yesterday?” Jules called out from behind her dressing room door.
“Yeah, that chick’s screenname was like AutumnWalt or something like that. How tacky, right?” Hayden was another big Oliver fan. She once said she expected us to all be her bridesmaids when she married him.
“Can you believe what happened with him after they took him backstage?” MacKenna pointed up at the speaker that was playing another of Hayden’s favorite Phobia5 songs as we all walked out toward the racks to hang our dresses back up.
“Um. No. What did you hear?” I choked back the panic in my voice and tried to act natural.
“Girl, have you not been on Twitter? It’s all everyone is talking about.” MacKenna shook her head. I hadn’t been on Twitter in what felt like ages. Once Oliver and I started texting and chatting on the phone, there was no need to log on to find him.
“Ya know, it doesn’t really matter; it’s probably not true anyway.” I really didn’t want her to tell me anything but I didn’t have what she would think was a valid reason to stop her.
“No, listen. He picked a girl out of the crowd and told her to meet him backstage. And then he staged the fainting spell so he could have at it that much quicker.” She started fanning herself. “And…AND…the girl took a friend with her and apparently, according to the tweets, they had a threesome. Couldn’t you just die?”
I was sick to my stomach. Social media would be the death of me, I was certain of it.
“Kate. Come on! You can’t tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to have sex with him. He’s so fucking hot! What girl wouldn’t? Right?” MacKenna was doing all the talking but the other girls nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, he’s hot. But, I’m really not all into that groupie thing so I’m thinking I’d have to pass on the sex part of your fantasy.” I faked a laugh and was the first one out of the door and onto the sidewalk. I needed fresh air.
We headed into a couple more shops and then went to Fat Salmon’s, the new sushi place on Campus Drive, to grab a late lunch.
Not twenty minutes after we got the check, it hit me. I knocked my chair over in an attempt to leave the table before I covered it in puke. Before I knew it all five girls were hovering over me in a tiny stall asking what they could do to help.
“Hang on, Kate.” Emily rubbed my back as I heaved for the hundredth time. “My sister works at the bookstore, just a block away. I’ll go grab her keys and meet you all out front in about five minutes. I’ll drive you home, hon, okay?”
I nodded as best I could and took another wad of wet paper towels from MacKenna who’d just finished getting all my hair out of my face and into a bun.
Once the girls dropped me off at my dorm, I got myself all set up and ready to cave to my early demise. My whole body hurt and wouldn’t stop its food-poisoning convulsions. I had every blanket I owned piled on top of me in an attempt to create enough warmth to stop the shakes. My stomach still ached but I knew there was nothing else in it to throw up. I just needed to rest and get my strength back. The last time I got food poisoning, I was in bed for a week before I felt like I could reintroduce myself into society.
I was in bed, tucked under my favorite fuzzy blankets with Hayden’s heating pad tucked under with me. I had the remote for the TV, a book, my journal and my phone. On my desk next to my bed I had a bottle of ibuprofen, my biggest insulated cup filled with the ginger ale the girls made sure to grab on the way and a big bag of pretzels. I was set. Except to relieve my bladder of its soda content, I wouldn’t have to move until tomorrow.
I turned on Netflix and scrolled through the movies. I was an ’80s movie junkie. I guess my mom turned me onto them when I was a pre-teen and I just never outgrew them. Say Anything, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club. All classics that you never outgrow, in my opinion. All perfect for the kind of day I had planned for myself. And maybe it would take my mind off of the fact that Oliver and Gretchen were going out on a date in a couple hours. Gag.
Of course, the second I clicked on Top Gun my phone buzzed.
Walter: Hey.
I was excited it was Oliver but had to remind myself I was still Lexi, which dampened the thrill just a little. Okay, more than a little. The stress of now being Kate in person and Lexi by phone could easily be my own personal finale before my rotten fish disease got the chance to end me.
Me: Hey.
Walter: Um. I’m a bit out of it. Can I get a rain check on our date?
Me: Of course. Are you okay?
A wave of relief washed over me. Their date was cancelled.
Walter: Not really. But I’ll work it out.
Me: Want to talk about it?
Walter: Not really, love. I’m sorry.
Me: Don’t be sorry.
Walter: But, I am.
Me: Smile, Oliver.
Walter: Easier said than done, love.
Me: What would make you smile?
Walter: Good question.
Me: Well, when you think of something let me know.
I started the movie and waited for him to text back. When the opening credits were done and he still hadn’t texted, I opened my Twitter app and checked his feed, only looking at recent tweets and not any Autumn-laced ones.
OliverPh5: The cacophony within me will only make you fade away. Don’t go.
It was time-stamped at the same time of his last text. I texted him again.
Me: Just saw your last tweet. Cacophony means discord.
Walter: Why yes it does.
Me: Are you worried the discord you are struggling with will hold part of your heart hostage and I’ll be forced to take up space in the background while you sort things out?
Walter: You’re good.
Me: I can read you like a book Oliver Walt.
Walter: A fucked up book.
Me: Nah. We’re all broken, Oliver.
Walter: Some of us more than others, Lexi.
Me: Have you ever broken a bone?
Walter: *scene change* lol – Um, yes. I’ve had plenty of broken bones.
His answer made me cringe. I couldn’t bear to ask the details.
Me: When I broke my wrist last year, my orthopedist told me a broken bone grows back even stronger. I like to think it’s the same for us, as humans. Every wound we suffer only makes us stronger in the end.
I thought about Oliver and Buster. I had an image in my head of Oliver as a little boy holding his fluffy puppy up to his face for a photo. A door slamming in the hall instantly changed that image to Oliver’s neighbor holding a smoking gun. I’d never shake that story.
Walter: So, I have to wait for ‘the end’ to feel strong?
Me: I don’t think so. Not if you can focus on what getting stronger feels like as it’s happening.
Walter: I’ve just never felt all that strong.
Me: I
can help you if you’ll let me.
Walter: I have to go, Lexi. We will talk tomorrow, love. <3
Me: <3 I’m not going anywhere, Oliver.
I fell into a deep asleep soon after the last text and the next thing I knew, I was jarred awake by an insistent fist on my door. Someone, unless it was Oliver again, would lose a hand, if I had to answer that level of incessant knocking again. And getting out of bed this time was more difficult than before. My head pounded, the muscles in my stomach ached like I’d done a million crunches and the room spun as soon as I stood.
I yanked my door open as best I could, squinted into the early evening sunlight coming through the window at the end of the hall and was welcomed by Gretchen’s deflated demeanor.
“He stood me up, Kate.”
“Oh no!” My reaction wasn’t because I felt bad for her—it was at that moment I realized I fell asleep before I could let her know Oliver had backed out on their plans. Oops.
She came in and sat on my bed and appeared to be genuinely upset. So, for a minute I entertained the idea of just playing along and not telling her, just to show her I could pull the rug out from under her just as quickly. She thought she’d been stood up and selfishly I got great satisfaction out of the look of rejection on her face. But then I realized I couldn’t let her go on thinking Oliver ditched her. Unless I managed to come clean to Oliver soon, there was a chance “Lexi” would talk to Oliver at some point and if she reacted to being stood up he’d surely tell her that he’d canceled their plans earlier in the day. This stupid charade would be the death of me.
“Gretchen, I am so sorry—”
“You told him! You BITCH!” She stood and clenched her fists.
We were eye to eye. I wasn’t afraid she’d hit me, clenched fists and all. The longer I knew her, the more intelligent I realized she was. She was too smart to resort to a physical altercation.
“No! I didn’t tell him. Gretchen, listen. He wasn’t feeling well and texted ‘Lexi’ to cancel for tonight. I fell asleep before I had a chance to text you to let you know. I’m really sorry.”
“No you’re not.” She shifted in and out of different intensities of different moods. She showed up deflated, then she was enraged and finally she was somewhere between hurt and cautious.
“I am, Gretchen. I got really sick on some sushi earlier today. I puked my guts up at Fat Salmon and I must’ve passed out soon after the girls brought me home…and before I texted you to tell you Oliver couldn’t make it tonight. I really am sorry.” I didn’t know how to take her. When she left my dorm in the morning she’d threatened to pull the proverbial rug out from under me. But as she stood before me and searched my face for the truth, she seemed hurt by the notion I may not have held any regret for not telling her about the canceled plans.
“I’m sorry, Kate. My emotions are all over the place. After my last class, I ran into The Diner to grab some coffee and Moose was in there waiting for a takeout order. He told me Oliver was in the van around back.” She sat down on my bed. I took a seat next to her and pulled my pillow into my lap.
“What happened?” My jealous heart ached already. Gretchen and Oliver spoke without me for the first time.
“He said he was really happy I was still speaking to him, which didn’t make sense at the time, but now I realize he must’ve been referring to cancelling our date. He opened the passenger door and invited me in and onto his lap.” She smiled. “We kissed and talked, he showed me pictures on his phone and he told me how good it was to have his hands on me again. I found my heart in a different place.” She looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.
“What’s that mean?” She’d been in Oliver’s lap and they’d kissed, again. My heart twisted up in knots. And all this happened while I slept. I apparently lacked the foresight to realize their tryst could play out without me being an active participant. I couldn’t put the brakes on this now if I wanted to.
“Kate, I’ve spent my whole life just doing what I needed to do to get ahead, never minding who I had to step on to get there. But, I got the slightest feeling Oliver was going through the motions; I didn’t feel the same vibe I got from him backstage. That’s when I realized I really cared how he felt for me. I guess I was disappointed that he may have been faking it a little. I was hurt. That’s never happened before. Especially not with a guy I was into just for sex creds.” She didn’t look up once during what seemed like an admission of guilt.
“So, what are you saying?” Other than your admission to sometimes being into guys just for the sex credits. I didn’t know what was worse, Gretchen duping Oliver and breaking his heart or Gretchen falling for Oliver under the Lexi guise.
“I think I like him, Kate. And I don’t want to hurt him, which shoots my tabloid money-making scheme all to hell. But for the first time in my life I may just be willing to sacrifice myself for someone I care deeply about.” She looked up at me and I searched her face for any trace of deceit.
“Don’t you DARE take anything he tells you to the tabloids. You could ruin him. And for what? A couple bucks?” I was having trouble swallowing my haphazard placement of Gretchen in Oliver’s life. If she ruined him, it all came back to me.
“Kate, little-known fact, I have stooped to some low levels to make money to pay for school. But, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t want to do that to Oliver and I’ve never felt that kind of loyalty to anyone.”
“Gretchen, seriously? You met him yesterday. How much loyalty could you have built in the hundred words you’ve said to him in twenty-four hours?”
I hated to do the comparative thing in my mind because I was still trying to tell myself it was ridiculous to be optimistic about anything with Oliver going any further than friendship. But, there was no way Gretchen was more invested in Oliver and his well-being than I was. I’d spent months forging the relationship Oliver and I had. My phone buzzed right under my ass. I stayed put so Gretchen wouldn’t ask to see the texts. I wasn’t positive it was Oliver but lately he seemed to have impeccable timing, like he could sense when he was the topic of conversation.
“But, Kate, the way he kissed me yesterday. I felt it all the way down to my toes. There was something there.”
I rolled my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but I had nothing to say. How could I refute what she felt? I could feel the passion and longing in that kiss from across the room. I felt it in my toes as well. My ass buzzed again.
“But…” she stammered.
“But what?” And there I was, hung up on the hope that maybe the love affair between Oliver and Gretchen would be over before it even began.
“This morning and in his van his kisses were hollow. Like it was just something he was supposed to do.” She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair and then looked me in the eyes. “It was like he wasn’t there. His eyes were empty, and his smile tried to be sincere but was closer to half-assed.”
“I don’t know what to say, Gretchen. I’m sorry.” I wasn’t a mean person. I found it difficult to be happy for her pain but at the same time I was relieved maybe Oliver just wasn’t feelin’ it. And I was really curious as to what texts I sat on.
“FUCK! The one time I let my guard down and this happens. And it’s not just some dick at a fraternity party—it’s fucking Oliver Walt! I gotta go.” She got up to leave and I felt awkward not standing. I stood, but I prayed another text wouldn’t come in until she left.
“Look, Gretchen.” I don’t know why I felt compelled to comfort her, but I did. “Oliver is a really moody guy. He’s your typical broken rock star. There’s stuff he struggles with that makes his life even more exhausting than it already is. Maybe he was just tired. Who knows?”
When the door closed and locked behind her, I threw the covers off my bed to get to my phone. I carefully climbed back under the covers and got comfortable before I looked at the screen.
MacKenna: Hey K.
MacKenna: Kate? You ok?
Me: Much better thanks. Just laying low.
Dammit. I thought for sure the buzzing was Oliver.
MacKenna: OK. We’re out at Beta Sig. Text if you need us to bring you anything. We can grab it on our way home.
Me: Thanks, Mack. I will.
Eight
Lying in bed for three days straight sounds heavenly when you’re busy and your schedule has you by the throat. But when food poisoning is the reason, it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be. I was bored. I hadn’t heard from Oliver since he texted me about canceling his date. And I’d watched enough ’80s films to cause me to fill an online shopping basket with neon, off-the-shoulder tops and leg warmers.
But as a sidekick to boredom, I was starving. I had expelled all remnants of bad sushi more than three days ago and had no other form of sustenance besides pretzels and ginger ale. I decided to venture over to the dining hall for some soup after I showered and brushed my teeth. My body craved substance and broth more than the leg warmers.
It felt nice to be outside. I breathed in the warm fall air and enjoyed people-watching along the way. I heard a group of people burst into laughter at the steps that led up into the commons. A love-struck couple leaned against the brick wall whispering and smiling at one another. And many people glanced up from their phones periodically between steps as they rushed to and from class. I wondered how many of them, if any, were burdened by something big. Anything. Maybe that girl sitting on the bench just cheated on her exam. Or that professor-looking guy, maybe he carried the guilt of an affair with a student. And then, like a slap in the head directly from God, one of the girls from the end of my hall, Beth, crossed my path and smiled and waved.
“Hi, Beth.” I smiled and waved back.
She lost her mom to a drunk driver over the summer.
I decided at that moment to stop feeling sorry for myself. I needed to stop feeling as though Lexi was a hell handed to me. Unlike Beth, I’d made a conscious decision to alter my life.
When I got inside the commons, I headed up the steps, swiped my meal card and headed right to the soup and salad bar. Chicken noodle heaven.
When I Lied Page 9
