All the Pretty Lies

by Melissa Toppen

  “Thanks, man.” I drop down in the chair next to him, stretching my legs out in front of myself.

  “Man, can you believe we only have a few more weeks of this left?”

  “Doesn’t seem real, does it?” I agree, twisting the cap off my beer before lifting the bottle to my lips and taking a long pull.

  “I think you’re gonna miss me when I move to Louisiana.” He chuckles.

  “Miss you? Hell, I’ll be glad to be rid of your ass,” I tease.

  “You play now, but we both know you’re going to be crying like a bitch when I’m gone.”

  I arch a brow at him, shaking my head when a wide smile breaks out across his face.

  “So what’s Poppy think about you leaving in June? Sucks that we don’t get to enjoy our last summer because of summer training.”

  “I haven’t really spoken to her about it.” I shrug, taking another pull of beer.

  “You haven’t talked to your girlfriend about the fact that you’re leaving for college in like six weeks?” He throws me a sideways glance.

  “Nah, doesn’t really matter.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because we won’t be together by then.”

  “Getting sick of her already?”

  “You know me.” I grin.

  “So then why even date her at all?”

  “Sounded like fun.” I chuckle. “Besides, someone needs to take that V card before she leaves for college.” I cringe internally, wishing I hadn’t shared that little piece of information. In trying to come off as believable, I aired something very personal about Poppy to a guy that doesn’t know what the saying ‘keep your mouth shut’ means.

  “Wait.” His eyes bulge behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. “She’s a virgin?” His voice is so loud that it carries several feet.

  “Shhh. She lives right there, remember?” I hitch a thumb toward her house.

  “Fuck. My bad.” He laughs. “But seriously, she’s still a virgin?” he says quietly this time.

  I nod, wishing the thought didn’t drive me as mad as it does. I still can’t wrap my head around it. And I’ve spent more nights then I care to admit thinking about it. Knowing she’s untouched makes her that much more appealing.

  “So what’s your play? Fuck her and dump her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what?”

  “Well, for one, I need more time. Poppy Harris isn’t the kind of girl that jumps into bed with anyone. I have to wear her down.”

  “Knowing you, you won’t have any trouble there.” He tips his beer to his lips. “So what’s the plan? Please don’t tell me you’re waiting until prom because that’s so fucking cliché.”

  “Nah, it’ll happen before then.”

  “But you two are going to prom together, right? I thought about asking Cam to go as friends.”

  “You mean as fuck buddies.”

  “Whatever. I just assumed we’d all be going together.”

  “It’s still like three weeks out. We’ll have to see what happens between now and then.”

  “You mean, you’ll have to see how quickly she’ll give it up.”

  “Something like that,” I say in lieu of the truth.

  I hate talking about Poppy like this. Like she’s some random girl whose pants I’m trying to get into. But this is how Tripp and I talk. If I deviate even a little, there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll start asking questions that I have no desire to answer.

  And while I should be ready to drop the ruse and get back to life as usual, I find myself dragging my feet. The ploy was to catch Ethan’s attention. That took all of two days. Yet for some reason I insisted we keep this up. I made the excuse that it needed to last longer, to appear more serious, but in truth I think I wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Hell, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.

  “I’m actually kind of surprised to hear that,” Tripp says after a long moment of silence falls between us.

  “Hear what?” I ask, not following.

  “That she’s another tag and bag. I thought you really liked her.”

  “I do.” It’s the first real thing that’s come out of my mouth since this conversation began. “But as you said before, we’re leaving for college not long after graduation. No need to drag it out and make it harder on her when I leave.”

  “I guess I get that. But man, you’ve had a thing for that girl for years.”

  “No I haven’t,” I disagree, to which I’m met with a doubtful expression.

  “Really?” He snorts. “That’s how you wanna play it? You gonna sit there and act like you haven’t been purposely steering guys away from her for years? You gonna spew some bullshit about how it was for her own good? You forget who you’re talking to.”

  “It was for her own good.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He rolls his eyes, the action unmistakable even behind his sunglasses. “She’s your fucking girlfriend and you still can’t admit it.”

  “Admit what?” I grind out.

  “That you’ve been into her since you guys were kids.”

  “What the fuck ever.” I shake my head.

  “What is it with you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re afraid of getting attached to someone. Which is kind of weird considering you come from the happiest household I’ve ever stepped foot into. Seriously, your parents are so into each other it’s nauseating. Do you know how rare that is these days?”

  “So what if I shy away from commitment?” I skip over the part about my parents. No use in disputing him on that. “I’m eighteen. It doesn’t mean it will always be like this.” I kill the rest of my beer in one long pull, dropping the empty bottle onto the ground next to my chair. “There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to play the field. You know, see what’s out there before I settle down with one person.”

  “But what if in the process of playing the field, you miss out on something really great?”

  Something about the look that crosses his face doesn’t quite sit right with me.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about me anymore?” I give him a questioning look.

  “What?” He clears his throat.

  “Mother fucker.” I sit up straighter into my chair. “You’re into Camila.” It’s not a question.

  “Of course I’m into her. Have you looked at the girl?”

  “So then why all last week were you talking mad shit about it just being a fling?”

  “It was just a fling. Problem is, it was so fucking fun that I want more of it.”

  “And she doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know, man. You know reading girls isn’t my strong suit.”

  “Then why not just ask her.”

  “Yeah, I’ll just walk up to her and say hey, wanna fuck some more?”

  “Not the words I would use, but you’re on the right track.” I laugh.

  “What’s the point anyway? Like you said, no sense getting attached when we’ll be off to college and none of this shit will matter anyway.”

  “You know, people do have relationships while they’re in college.”

  “Do you know anything about me?” He gestures to himself.

  “Good point,” I agree. If there’s anyone that can’t keep it in his pants, it’s Tripp. He makes me look tame with the number of girls he’s gone through in the past four years. “But, if you really like the girl...”

  “If this were Junior year, sure, maybe I’d give a real relationship a try. But now? The timing is just fucked.”

  “Well, there’s no reason you guys can’t hang out in the meantime.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like you said. No point in getting attached when you know you’ll be leaving soon.” He shrugs. “Anyway.” He stands, grabbing the two empty beer bottles from the ground. “I need another. You?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, my eyes following him until he disappears through the gate. I drop my head back, letting out a slow sigh.

  I don’t enjoy lying to my best
friend. I’ll be glad when all this is over and life can go back to normal. But if that’s true, then why does the thought of this being over leave me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach?

  I shake away the thought as Tripp reappears with two fresh beers.

  “It’s fucking hot out here. We gonna swim or what?” Tripp asks, handing me a bottle when he reaches me.

  “Sure.” I stand. “Go right ahead.” Without warning, I give him a good shove. He stumbles backward, falling into the pool seconds later.

  “You asshole,” he sputters when he resurfaces. “You’re lucky I hadn’t opened my beer.”

  “Shut the fuck up and move over. I’m coming in.” I back up and take off running, launching myself into the pool with a loud splash.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  POPPY

  “REMIND ME AGAIN WHY I agreed to this?” I ask Camila as I stand in front of my floor length mirror, taking in the tiny red dress she insisted I wear to tonight’s party.

  “Because you look incredible,” she responds from the bathroom where she’s primping her hair, the door left open.

  “Not the dress. Though I’m questioning that as well. But the party. It’s not really my scene.”

  “Says who? Just because you’ve never gone to one doesn’t mean it’s not your scene.”

  “Yeah, it kind of does.” I sigh, running my hands through the ends of my hair that I left loose and straight down my back. “I look like a prostitute,” I grumble, looking at my smoky eyes and bright red lips.

  “You look like a sex kitten,” she corrects, her head making a momentary appearance in the doorway. “Callum won’t be able to keep his eyes off you. Or his hands for that matter.”

  The mention of Callum has my stomach churning for an entirely different reason.

  He hasn’t really been acting any differently toward me this week than he did last week at the lake, yet I feel like so much has changed. True, it’s more in your face when people are watching, but there are stolen moments too. Moments when it feels like we’re the only two people on the Earth.

  It’s hard to decipher. The way he looks at me, the way he touches me. I don’t know if he feels it too, or if I want so badly for it to be real that I’m starting to see things that aren’t there.

  Maybe Cam is right. Maybe this party...or rather, this dress, is just the thing I need to show Callum Hanson that I’m worth more than only being his fake girlfriend.

  It’s strange. This all started to garner the attention of Ethan and now all I want is Callum’s attention. And not only in a fake, for show, kind of way. I want him to look at me and see a girl he can’t live without.

  But why do I want that?

  I honestly don’t know. I just know that I do.

  And I don’t know when it happened.

  I think maybe it creeped up on me so slowly that when it finally hit me, it felt completely out of left field.

  “When is April getting here?” I ask, turning away from my reflection.

  “I already told you, she’s going to the party with Brock,” Cam reminds me, stepping into the bedroom. She looks incredible in her silver dress that dips low in the front and even lower in the back, showing off her flawless brown skin.

  Internally, I grumble. Maybe I wouldn’t be so self-conscious if my two best friends didn’t look like freaking super models.

  “That’s right,” I say, having forgotten she mentioned that earlier.

  “What time are we supposed to be ready?” She glances at her phone.

  “Um.” I look around her to the bedside table, my alarm clock displaying the time in bright red numbers. “Like five minutes ago.” I laugh.

  “Well shit.” She starts gathering her things.

  “Relax. It’s not like Callum is going to leave without us.”

  “I know. But I don’t want to make him wait. Did he say if Tripp is coming?”

  “Why do you ask?” I lift a brow in her direction.

  “Just curious is all.”

  “Uh huh.” I cross my arms in front of myself.

  “Oh shut up.” She swipes her hand through the air. “You can’t judge me.”

  “I’m not judging. Just wondering how long you’re going to pretend like you don’t like the guy.”

  “I do like him, okay? But he’s not interested in a relationship and honestly, neither am I. In just a couple of months he’ll be in Louisiana. It doesn’t make sense to dive into something right now.”

  “What are you trying to say?” I get the feeling she’s implying more than she’s saying.

  “I’m not talking about you and Callum. You guys are only going to be like two hours away from each other. That’s way different.”

  “Three actually, but who knows what will happen between now and then. It’s still so new.”

  “Well, if the way he looks at you is any indication, I don’t think you two are going to be calling it quits anytime soon.”

  I have to bite back the urge to correct her. Little does she know, Callum and I are on borrowed time.

  “We should go,” I say instead, grabbing my clutch before stuffing my cell phone inside.

  “Yeah.” She bends down to slip into her heels. “I’m ready.” She straightens, holding out her arms. “Do I look okay?”

  “Okay?” I blanch. “Girl, you’re on fire right now.”

  “Good.” She grins, passing me as she walks into the hallway.

  I flip off the lights and follow her downstairs, locking the door behind us as we step out onto the front porch.

  “You didn’t tell me Tripp was riding with us,” she hisses under her breath as I pull the keys out of the door and drop them into my purse.

  “I didn’t know he was,” I admit, turning to see both Callum and Tripp leaning casually against Callum’s Jeep, talking amongst themselves.

  Their gazes swing to us, as if sensing our presence, and even with the distance between us, I can see Callum’s expression shift from easy and relaxed to something else.

  Following Camila down the front steps, the closer we get the more nervous I become.

  “Damn, P.” Callum audibly groans when we reach the guys. His green eyes sweep across my face, down my neckline, taking in the rest of me before they finally land on my face again. “Jesus.” He lifts his fist, biting down on his knuckles.

  “Shut up.” I giggle awkwardly. “It’s just a dress.”

  “Just a dress,” he chokes. “That fucking thing should be illegal.”

  “Does that mean you like it?” A smile plays on my lips.

  “Like it?” He shakes his head. “I think that might be an understatement.” Before I can say anything else, Callum snakes an arm around my waist and tugs me to his chest. “I’m going to be fighting guys off you with a stick.”

  “Well lucky for you, you’re the only guy I care about.”

  Something passes over his face. Something I can’t quite pinpoint. Doubt. Uncertainty. Before I can figure it out, it’s gone and an easy smile slides across his mouth.

  “If you two are about done,” Tripp grumbles next to us.

  “Shut up, bitch.” Callum shoves Tripp with his free arm, sending him stumbling to the side. “Get in the fucking car.” He laughs, tugging open the passenger door before gesturing for me to climb in.

  “I get to sit shotgun?” I grin up at him.

  “You’re my girl. Where else would you sit?”

  Something funny happens inside my stomach. His girl. God, why do I want that to be true? When did I go from being annoyed by my cocky, player of a neighbor, to being completely enamored with him?

  Without a word, I hoist myself up into the Jeep, Tripp and Camila, who’s weirdly quiet, climbing into the back. When Callum hops into the driver’s seat, the first thing he does after firing the engine up is reach for my hand. Wrapping his fingers around mine, he pulls it into his lap and rests my hand on his thigh before reaching for the gearshift.

  The ride is quick. It only takes us about fift
een minutes to reach Jeana’s house, a large two story that sits on a nice chunk of land. I’ve heard stories about the parties she throws, but this will be the first one I’ve ever attended.

  “I’m gonna go find April,” Cam announces as she climbs from the Jeep.

  “I’ll go with you,” Tripp quickly offers.

  Camila gives him a quick nod and turns her attention back to me. I try to fight the smile on my face but it’s pointless. Going to find April... Yeah, like I believe that for a second. I know Cam, and if the sexual tension between her and Tripp doesn’t give them away, the way she keeps averting her gaze sure as hell does.

  “Catch up with you later?” she asks.

  “Yeah, sounds good.” I smile, throwing up a small wave as she turns, heading up to the house, Tripp quick on her heels.

  “How long do you think it will take them?” I look up at Callum.

  “What do you mean?”

  “To realize they actually like each other?”

  “I think they’ve already realized it.” He snorts. “Come on.” He gestures toward the house. “Let’s go get a drink. If I have to look at you in that dress all night, I’m gonna need one.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as we make our way up the long driveway hand in hand.

  “You know what it means.” He gives me a sideways glance and I swear my stomach does a full flip.

  This is what I’m talking about. There’s no one around. No one we’re trying to fool. So why does he say things like this to me? Why make me think he’s actually attracted to me unless he is?

  I take a deep breath, trying not to get too ahead of myself.

  The moment we step inside the house, my ears are accosted by the heavy thump of music, various voices, and laughter mingling with the sound.

  The house is packed. If I had to take a guess, I’d say there are at least a hundred or more people here and by the looks of it, it would appear that it’s a good mix of lower and upper classmen.

  “Kitchen’s this way.” Callum tugs me to the left, his voice barely audible over the noise.

  Several people say hello, fist bumping Callum as we make our way through the house. I briefly wonder what it must feel like to walk through a crowded room and have every single person know exactly who you are.