All the Pretty Lies

by Melissa Toppen

  COPYRIGHT © 2021 BY Melissa Toppen

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.

  Editing by Amy Gamache @ Rose David Editing

  Cover Design by Opulent Designs

  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

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  POPPY

  “CAN YOU BELIEVE MR. Morales gave us such a big assignment three days before our senior trip?” Camila plops down next to me in her usual lunch spot, dropping her lunch tray onto the table in front of her. “I mean, hello. Who really cares about some old war anyway?” She tosses her long, dark hair over her shoulder before twisting the lid off her water.

  “I’m sure a lot of people do.” I shrug, swirling my plastic fork through my salad.

  “Not me,” April chimes in from my left. “I mean, I get that it was important and all, but really, how is any of this going to help me in the real world?”

  “I don’t know. But it doesn’t hurt to know our country’s history.” I stab a cherry tomato and shove it into my mouth.

  “Whatever. I’m not doing it,” Camila announces. “Between packing, getting my nails done, and all the shopping I need to do before this weekend, there’s no way I’m going to have time.”

  “You realize it counts for twenty percent of your grade, right?” I point out.

  “You realize that the only person at this table who really cares is you, right?” she fires back. “No Cosmetology school on this planet is going to care if I passed History by the skin of my teeth.”

  “Agreed.” April laughs.

  I’ve been friends with April and Camila since seventh grade, when we all got teamed up together for a Science project. We clicked instantly. And while the two are vastly different than me, and left me to do ninety percent of the work, I found comfort in our differences.

  Camila is what I would call a bad ass. Quick tempered, not afraid of anything or anyone. She’s the first person to speak her mind and doesn’t care what you have to say about it. Her parents moved here from Mexico before she was born, and while both are sweet, hardworking people, five minutes with them and you know exactly where she gets her sauciness from. Her mother. She gets away with it though, mainly because she’s drop dead, freaking beautiful. Long, dark hair, dark eyes, lashes so thick she doesn’t have to wear a lick of mascara, and perfect brown skin. And if that wasn’t enough, she’s also got an amazing figure that she hasn’t had to work for a day in her life.

  April isn’t much different. Only she’s beautiful in another way. She doesn’t have Camila’s ‘in your face’ sex appeal, but that doesn’t make her any less desirable to nearly every boy in school. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and legs for days. April is one of those girls that could have any guy she wants, and she knows it too.

  And then there’s me. Short. Average build. Classic good girl. Plain Jane. There’s not one thing that stands out about me. I’m one of those girls that blends into the crowd. If I don’t speak, most people don’t even know I’m there.

  I’ve often compared our little threesome to the movie The Duff and have declared myself the designated, ugly, fat friend of the group. Though I wouldn’t say I’m fat or necessarily ugly, but I certainly don’t measure up to my two best friends.

  “Well, not all of us can be lucky enough to have our entire future planned out.” I drop my fork and lean back in my chair. “If trade school or working with my family was an option for me, maybe I wouldn’t care so much either.”

  “You still would,” they say in unison, sharing a little laugh at my expense.

  “Let’s face it, P,” April leans forward, “you’ve got a good ol’ case of overachieveritis.”

  “That’s not a word.” I cross my arms in front of myself.

  “My point exactly. Who cares if it’s a word or not. Doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “But there’s nothing wrong with that,” Camila interjects. “You’re just more driven than the rest of us, and you thrive on being the smartest person in the room.”

  “I do not.”

  Both of them give me a look I know all too well.

  “Whatever,” I grumble with a slight eye roll.

  “You know we’re right.” April pats the back of my hand. “You make the rest of us look like simpletons.”

  “Well, unlike you, I don’t have beauty or a shining personality to carry me through,” I say in general, not directing the comment to either of them specifically.

  “There she goes again.” Camila sighs dramatically. “P, when are you going to realize that you’ve got it going on?”

  “Got it going on?” I choke on the words.

  “Yes!” she exclaims. “You’re a little hottie. I wish you’d own it already.”

  “Right!” April agrees. “Maybe then you’d have the courage to ask Ethan out. I mean come on, Pop, it’s been what? Two years. You wait any longer and you’re going to miss your window.”

  “Ethan isn’t interested in me,” I say, my eyes finding him across the cafeteria, sitting at his usual table with most of the other athletes.

  My heart flutters at the sight of him.

  Ethan Ripley.

  The guy I’ve been pining after since sophomore year when we sat next to each other in English class. He leaned over and asked to borrow a pencil and that was it. I was a goner.

  He’s gorgeous, but not in an in your face way. He’s not as tall as the other football players or as muscular, but something about him makes him feel larger than life. Maybe it’s his smile. The way his eyes squint and the two matching dimples that pop on his cheeks. Or his laugh, which is deep and rich and makes my skin prickle every time I hear it. Or his eyes, which I swear are so blue they match the sky on a cloudless day.

  “Says who?” Camila asks, interrupting the direction my thoughts have gone in.

  “Says him.” My gaze swings back to her. “If he did, why has he never spoken to me outside of class or a brief hello in the hallway?”

  “Maybe he’s shy,” April offers.

  “We all know that’s not it,” I disagree.

  “Maybe he’s waiting on you to make the first move?”

  “Like he waited on Harper last year?” I give her a knowing look. “Pretty
sure he pursued her quite relentlessly and didn’t care how big of a fool he made of himself in the process.”

  “Yeah, and you see how that turned out.” April snorts.

  “Regardless, I think we all know that shy is not something that describes Ethan in the least. I might as well be invisible.”

  “Then make him see you.” Camila nudges my arm.

  “Yeah, and how exactly do I do that?”

  “Well, for starters, you can come bathing suit shopping with me today after school.”

  “And that’s going to help me how?”

  “Because we’re going to get you a skimpy bikini that shows off that delicious booty of yours.”

  “Did you just call my butt delicious?” I arch a brow.

  “It is,” April agrees. “Come on, Pop. You know you have the best freaking ass. And your girls? What I wouldn’t give to have even half of what you do.”

  I look down, feeling weirdly self-conscious. I’m not big chested by any means. A small C at best, but I guess in comparison to my two friends I am a bit bustier.

  “Prance by him in a barely-there bikini with all your best assets on display and there’s no doubt in my mind that he won’t only see you, but he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Camila promises.

  “You really think so?” I ask doubtful.

  “I know so.” She nods. “Come on, P, what do you have to lose?”

  “Nothing, I guess.” I shrug.

  “Exactly!” She smacks the table. “Then it’s settled. We are going to find you the sexiest damn wardrobe for next week. And by the end of the trip, you might find yourself with your first official boyfriend.”

  I know she’s only trying to help, but pointing out that I’ve never had a real boyfriend doesn’t really do a whole lot for my self-esteem. Sure, I’ve had opportunities to date, but I’ve yet to find anyone that I was really interested in. I did go to Junior Prom with Kyle Parker last year, but when he kissed me during a subpar rendition of Truly, Madly, Deeply, I didn’t feel a blimp of excitement. I think it’s safe to say I friend zoned him pretty quickly. I’m just not one of those girls that dates so I can say I have a boyfriend. I’d rather hold out for someone special. Someone who takes my breath away.

  My gaze slides back to Ethan before a loud laugh causes me to look a little further to the left. I roll my eyes when I see Callum Hanson sitting on the edge of the table, looking out over the cafeteria like he owns it, with Sarah Norton leaning against his leg, looking up at him as if he hung the moon. Figures...

  Don’t get me wrong, he’s gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair that he keeps styled away from his face, giving the perfect view of his brilliant green eyes. I swear not one girl in this school is immune to that man’s charms. Then again, what girl wouldn’t want the attention of the football team’s star wide receiver and one of the most popular guys in school? Well, except for me. Maybe it’s because I’ve lived next door to him nearly my entire life and have seen firsthand the kind of guy he is. Or maybe it’s because once upon a time we used to be friends, until he became too cool to be seen with his less popular next door neighbor. The transition was swift. One day he was coming over to my house to study Algebra, and the next he had more important things to do. I still don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around how quickly our friendship deteriorated. It’s been nearly four years, and while he may nod at me from time to time if he sees me in the yard, I swear it’s like I don’t even exist.

  I vaguely wonder how Annika would feel if she were to see her friend hanging all over her boyfriend like that, but I quickly decide I really don’t care.

  “This is going to be so much fun, girls,” April sings excitedly next to me, drawing my focus back to her. “The three of us, a week at the lake.”

  “Pretty sure it’s going to be a lot more than the three of us,” Camila grins.

  “Yeah, like ninety percent of the senior class,” I grumble, wishing that half of them would come down with a case of the flu and not be able to make it.

  That’s mean, I know. And while I get along with most everyone, there’s definitely some people I wouldn’t mind excluding if I could.

  The senior class goes on this trip every year. Well, the ones whose parents will let them since it’s not a school sponsored function. I’m honestly not even sure how the tradition started, only that every senior class before ours has done it over the week of spring break.

  Usually, most people go. There’s a cluster of cabins down by Harrison Lake that we rent out. The plus side to paying for your own lodging is that you get to pick who you stay with. Camila, April, and I will be bunking together.

  Our senior year is almost over, and with college looming in the background, I want to spend as much time as I can with them while I’m still here. I’ve already been accepted to Trinity, which is only about two hours west of here, but two hours is a long drive when you’re working and juggling classes, so I don’t expect to make it back here that often.

  “Oh hush.” April nudges me with her elbow. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  “And with any luck,” Camila smiles, “you’ll be hugged up with a certain someone most of the time.”

  “Yeah, not likely.” I blow out a hard breath.

  “Well, not with that attitude you won’t,” April scolds.

  “Okay, so bathing suit shopping today after school. You in?” Camila asks.

  “I am,” April says.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I reluctantly agree, doubting that a swimsuit will be the ticket to finally getting Ethan to notice me.

  “Perfect.” Camila claps her hands together. “Meet me at my car after seventh. I’ll drive.”

  “HEY, POPPY.” I LOOK up, heat flooding my face when I see Ethan slide into the desk next to me at the back of the room. It’s where he sits every day, yet for some reason I’m surprised every time he plops down beside me.

  “Hey.” I smile, trying to seem completely at ease when I feel anything but.

  “You ready for the trip this coming week?” he asks.

  “Um yeah, why do you ask?” I blurt, fearing that maybe one of my big mouthed friends let something slip. Not that they would, but still, that’s just where my head tends to go.

  “Just curious I guess.” He shrugs.

  “Oh, well yeah, it should be fun.”

  “You staying with Camila and April?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “I’m crashing with Brock, Tripp, and Callum.”

  “Callum?” I crinkle my nose.

  “You got a problem with him?” He grins, giving me the perfect view of his matching dimples.

  “You could say that,” I murmur. “I didn’t realize you two were close.” Obviously, I know they’ve played football together the past two seasons, and they run in the same crowd, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the two of them talking to each other before. And trust me, I would’ve noticed. Mainly because staring at Ethan Ripley when he’s not looking is my favorite thing to do.

  “We’re not super tight, but we’re cool. He needed a place to crash after what happened with Annika.”

  “Wait, what happened with Annika?” I ask out of sheer curiosity and not because I care.

  “You didn’t hear?” He cocks a brow. “Apparently, he walked in on her making out with Blake at Grover’s party last weekend.”

  “Blake. As in Callum’s friend, Blake?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “Wow. I didn’t even know they broke up. That didn’t last long.”

  “Does that surprise you?” He chuckles. “I don’t think he’s dated anyone longer than a couple of months.”

  “This is true,” I agree, deciding to keep to myself how many different girls I’ve seen come and go from Callum’s house over the last few years.

  I open my mouth to say something else, eager to keep talking to Ethan, but at that moment Mrs. Waters clears her throat and instructs the class to settle down. I blow out a hard breath,
disappointment settling in my chest.

  This is the only time of the day I get to talk to Ethan, and of course, it’s during the one period where the teacher is a stickler for starting class on time. Any other class and I’d have at least two or three more minutes in heaven before I was ripped back down to earth.

  Reluctantly, I turn in my seat and face forward, doing my best to focus on the day’s lesson and not the distracting boy sitting next to me.

  When the bell rings forty-five minutes later, I don’t know that I really retained a single thing the teacher talked about. Normally, I’m good at shutting it off, but today I couldn’t stop glancing over at Ethan, my imagination running wild with me.

  “Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ethan stands, collecting his things.

  “Yeah, tomorrow,” I croak, not moving a single inch before he turns and quickly exits the classroom.

  I let out a disappointed sigh as I grab my things and slowly climb out of my desk.

  At least he talked to you today, the little voice in my head tries to reassure me.

  It’s not wrong. Some days he just smiles and takes his seat. The days he actually speaks are usually the highlight of my week. I should be elated. Instead, I feel like someone just tore the head off my favorite stuffed animal.

  It’s exhausting, secretly lusting after someone who barely looks your way. I wish there was a way to shut it off, to just forget about Ethan and focus on someone more attainable, someone who’s a better match for me. But it doesn’t matter what I do, I always come back to him. I can’t help it. There’s just something about him.

  Tucking my books in the crook of my arm, I’m the last person to leave the classroom as I lazily make my way out into the hallway and head in the direction of my locker.

  The halls are crowded with students all eager to leave for the day. I weave in and out of several groups that have stopped to talk, annoyed that they have to stand right in the middle of the hallway where everyone has to maneuver around them.

  When I round the corner to where my locker sits on the other side, I nearly run head on into Callum, barely able to stop myself before colliding with his chest.