All The Lies

by Kent, Rina

  The girls gasp, but Naomi isn’t done. She takes a bite of her pizza and speaks casually. “I wonder who will win. Actually, scratch that—you’re losing by forfeiting.”

  “Stop it, Nao,” Lucy scolds.

  “Nah, your captain seems to have buried her head in the sand like Little Miss Ostrich, so it’s time for a wake-up call.” Naomi throws her hands around. “Bree has been all over Asher like a snake and you’re letting her. She’s taking over the squad and you’re letting her. She’s snatching your position at this college and—OMG, shocker—you’re letting her. Hashtag fall of a queen.”

  I suck in a long breath. “Have you ever thought maybe I don’t want to be on those pedestals anymore?”

  Naomi laughs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “I’m not joking, and I don’t have to prove myself to you or to anyone else.” I put down my pizza. “I’m done being the old Reina. I won’t go out of my way to be someone I’m not.”

  Silence falls over the table as if I’ve spoken holy words.

  “So…what?” Naomi narrows her eyes. “You fell once and now you’re abdicating the throne?”

  I smile. “I don’t remember having any throne to abdicate. I lost my memories.”

  “But we didn’t. None of us did.” The maliciousness in Naomi’s voice takes me by surprise.

  “Nao…” Lucy trails off.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Memories on or off, you’re still a selfish bitch, Reina.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” My tone hardens.

  “You’re leaving it all to Bree knowing exactly the type of freak she is. All you care about is getting yourself out of the spotlight.”

  “Why do you care? Don’t you hate me?”

  “I do, but the other girls look up to you for some reason. The least you can do is protect them from Bree’s fat-shaming remarks and dictatorship. Did you know she makes the less pretty ones go on insane diets and do individual workouts until they almost pass out from hunger and exhaustion? Did you know she’s having them do the male cheerleaders’ work? Of course you don’t. As I said, you only care about yourself.”

  “Is that true?” I ask the girls.

  Lucy winces before she and a few other girls bow their heads with pained expressions.

  Oh.

  I bite my lower lip so hard I’m surprised blood doesn’t come out. So this is what the others have been going through while I was hiding in my room and skipping watching them at practice.

  While I was too engrossed in myself, the girls have been at Bree’s mercy—or lack thereof.

  Old Reina might not have done much for these girls before, but that will change now.

  I won’t sit back and watch as they’re being mistreated.

  Straightening my spine, I meet Naomi’s gaze. “I’ll step up under one condition.”

  She gives me a quizzical glance but says nothing.

  “You need to forgive me, Naomi.”

  Soft gasps echo from the girls as they watch us closely.

  Her lips purse. “Why is that important?”

  “It is to me.” My voice softens. “Don’t you want to protect the girls?”

  “Why would you think I want to do that?” She maintains her signature glare, but I know she cares deep down or she wouldn’t have asked me to help them.

  “Come on,” Lucy pleads.

  “I need allies,” I coax.

  “You must be out of your mind if you think you’ll have that in me.” Naomi flicks her silky black hair back. “I’m your enemy, Reina.”

  “Well, you know what they say about keeping your enemies closer than your friends.”

  “You’ve become such a freaking weirdo.” She rises to her feet. “So, are we doing this or what?”

  I smile as I stand up with both Lucy and Naomi on either side of me. The rest of the girls and some boys follow suit, one by one.

  “Let’s go get my place back,” I say with all my confidence.

  Naomi leans in to whisper, “I’ll gut you if you return to your old bitchy self.”

  I smirk. “Is that a promise?”

  She shakes her head. “That blunt-force trauma really did a number on you.”

  We stride toward the main table. Everyone in the cafeteria watches us closely, seeming to hold their breath.

  Silence fills the space as everyone at the main table stops talking all at once.

  I stand there, carrying my plate, straightening my shoulders.

  Prescott offers an awkward smile. “Hey, Captain.”

  Bree reprimands him with a look and presses her lips into a thin line.

  Owen jumps up from his seat and grins at us. “Long time no see, Rei-Rei. Are you here for that offer?”

  “I’m here for my place.” I meet Bree’s stare head-on. She has enough decency to stop rubbing her hand along Asher’s arm, but she doesn’t let him go.

  I refuse to look him in the eye even though I feel him boring holes in my face. One look, one freaking glance and all the courage I’ve summoned might evaporate.

  “Oh, what to do?” Bree asks with a honeyed voice. “The table doesn’t fit everyone.”

  I lean over, plant my hand in front of her, and mimic her fake smile. “Then I guess you have to make room for the captain.”

  Everyone at the table—and the entire cafeteria—grows silent, seemingly entranced by the duel.

  This will either bury her or bury me.

  And I haven’t returned from the dead to be buried.

  “It’s okay!” Lucy rushes in. “I’m sure we can attach an extra table.”

  “Hear that, Bree?” I tell her. “Go fetch the table.”

  She doesn’t move, her face growing red with exertion. “Reina, you—”

  I slam my tray in front of hers, shutting her up. I lean forward and snarl, “Move.”

  Her mouth falls open, but no words come out. Her ears heat, looking close to combustion. It’s Prescott who grabs her by the arm.

  I remove her hand from Asher’s arm and plant my ass right beside him.

  “Right, ladies.” Owen chuckles. “We’ll help with the table.”

  A few other guys from the team laugh along with him and go to fetch one. Naomi smiles in my peripheral vision, and I can’t help but smile back.

  No one will step on me.

  So what if I was a terrible person in the past? I’m changing, and no one will make me feel bad about that.

  A heavy arm slings over my shoulder. I breathe in his sandalwood and citrus scent as I focus on his touch surrounding me.

  Asher’s hot breath tickles my ear. “What are you doing?”

  I swallow, squashing the flutters in my chest and the tightening of my belly. The flaw in this plan? Having to be this close to Asher.

  It’s becoming harder and harder to control my reaction around him. A part of me sees him as the one who breathes life into me, the one who saved me twice.

  And it’s a wrong thought to have about someone who means me no good.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” I murmur back.

  Down, body. Stay the hell down.

  His lips graze the shell of my ear. A whimper gets trapped in my throat as he bites down for a split second.

  “Is that so?” The rumble of his voice awakens goosebumps on my skin.

  How can he pack so much sexual energy in three mere words?

  My body catches fire from his lips and voice on my ear. I squirm in my seat, fighting to not make a sound or lean into his touch.

  “What if I want it to be about me?” His voice deepens with darkness so tangible I taste it on my tongue.

  My head snaps in his direction. He watches me closely, but it’s not intimidation. It’s almost like…he’s seeing me in a different light.

  A new light.

  A brighter light.

  “Didn’t you…” My voice catches and I clear my throat. “Didn’t you say you don’t want anything to do with me?”

  “You keep barging in
anyway.” He licks the shell of my ear one more time. “It’s time I trap you.”

  I glide the pen against my lower lip and bite down on it. I sit at the pool, a notepad on my legs, but I’m not studying.

  My gaze keeps flitting to the backyard—or, more specifically, to the sleek, cut abdomen and back. They glisten with sweat as Asher switches from short runs to push-ups.

  I mean, the least he can do is wear a damn T-shirt. But no, he always works out in just shorts as if he’s offended by anything on top.

  It’s not that my eyes are complaining, but there’s a tiny little problem with my body becoming hot and bothered by the view.

  The simplest solution would be to stop watching, but for the life of me, I can’t keep my eyes off him.

  He’s like a magnet and I’m helpless steel. He’s the fire and I’m the moth waiting to be burned.

  I wish this weird infatuation were because of that tousled hair sticking to his forehead, the six-pack cut to perfection, the broad shoulders, or the intricate tattoo rippling up his bicep.

  I wish it were all about the unfairly handsome face or the ‘fuck you’ aura he exudes so well. I really wish the tugging and pulling at the bottom of my stomach were only because I’m drawn to his exterior charm.

  But that’s not, is it?

  Something wild and crazy lurks under the surface between us. This twisted connection started that first day in the hospital, and it’s refused to stop ever since.

  Like a current of water, the harder I fight it, the stronger it pulls me under.

  My phone pings, and I nearly drop my pen. Shifting to face forward, I check my messages.

  It’s my group chat with Lucy and Naomi.

  Lucy: Let’s meet. Reina? Nao?

  Naomi: Fine, but don’t you dare go sappy on me.

  I grin as I type.

  Reina: Sappy is my middle name, dude.

  Luce sends a laughing emoji, and Naomi sends a GIF of a girl rolling her eyes.

  They’re seriously the only two I find comfort with. Despite her tough act, Naomi cares and is very mushy inside. Lucy is just Lucy, nice and supportive even if it affects her own comfort.

  A notification from Instagram appears on my screen.

  It’s a message. Cloud003.

  My smile falls and my heart rate picks up. I can hear the roaring in my ears as I click on it.

  Cloud003: I’ve been thinking a lot about your lips around my dick lately.

  Cloud003: Or your pussy. I’m not picky.

  My cheeks heat as I watch my surroundings. Asher is running in the distance, his back rippling, and no one else is around.

  Reina-Ellis: Screw off or I’ll report this to the police.

  Cloud003: The same police who are investigating you for murder?

  How the hell does he know that?

  Cloud003: Admit it, my slut. You want my cock as much as it wants you.

  Reina-Ellis: Whatever happened between us is over. Move the fuck on.

  The only one I can think about in a sexual way is the one running in the distance with earbuds in.

  This mysterious asshole on Instagram does nothing for me. Old Reina was weird like that.

  Cloud003: We’ll see about that.

  I exit Instagram altogether and lift my head. Jason heads toward me, smirking at his phone.

  When his dark eyes meet mine, he slips it in his jacket and loses the smirk.

  I glance at my phone then back at him.

  That…can’t be possible. Jason isn’t Cloud003.

  He can’t be.

  “Hey, Princess.” He smiles down at my sitting position near the pool.

  Weʼve been studying together for a few weeks now. I help him out with his tests. In return, Jason has been sort of like my personal trainer to help me get back in shape before I return to being thrown in the air.

  “Hey, Jace.” I watch him closely as if seeing him for the first time.

  The mocha skin and kind eyes, the broad football body and the easy smile.

  He can’t possibly be Cloud003. And yet…something nags at me to prove it.

  Best way? Surprise element. If I catch him off guard, he’ll have only a fraction of a second to pull himself together, and that’s my moment to read him.

  “Do you know the Instagram account Cloud003?” I ask nonchalantly.

  He pauses, his smile faltering a little.

  Oh, God, no.

  This can’t be happening.

  The conversation I had with him before stabs me in the mind. When I asked him if we were friends, he said, ‘Something like that.’

  Turns out we were friends with benefits.

  “No. I barely post anything there, anyway.” He smiles again. “Is it someone you know?”

  “Not really.” I mimic his smile.

  Two can play this game, asshole.

  I won’t show my cards unless I know his purpose. The realization nearly breaks my heart.

  These past few weeks, I was getting used to having him as a friend.

  He motions at the trampoline near the pool. “Are you ready to practice your jumps?”

  I tuck all the revelations to the back of my mind and focus on the present. Jason can’t know I figured it out. I need to act like before.

  I stare between him and the trampoline. “No?”

  “Come on. Dancing and jumping were your side hustle.”

  Thatʼs the thing. I donʼt think they speak of me anymore, and I have zero confidence about my ability to do it. However, I already promised the girls, and Iʼll do whatever it takes to make up for the past.

  So what if I fall and break my neck?

  Dramatic much, Reina?

  I abandon my notepad and hop up onto the trampoline.

  Jason stands there with both his arms stretched out in front of him.

  I start doing minor jumps I’ve practiced so far. It’s easy on the trampoline since it pulls me back down.

  I do a major jump and flip in the air then return to the trampoline.

  A rush of adrenaline tightens my stomach. There’s something amazing about floating in the air; those seconds are…freedom.

  Maybe that’s why Old Reina stuck with cheerleading after high school.

  “Now come over,” Jason prompts.

  I take several deep breaths, still jumping on the trampoline. I can’t trust him with my life, especially after what I just unraveled.

  However, if I refuse to, he’ll grow suspicious.

  So I close my eyes and jump in his direction, flipping in the air.

  Strong arms catch me in a cage-like embrace. I squeal. “I did it!”

  Wait, Jason was wearing a T-shirt—how come heʼs now…naked?

  I open my eyes, and all words catch in my throat. The eyes looking down at me aren’t Jason’s brown ones; they’re deep green. Like an ocean, they pull me in and push me out.

  For a moment, Iʼm glad my heart is actually trapped by a ribcage and won’t jump out of my chest.

  A tremor rushes through my limbs, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline wave or the feel of Asher’s arms around my waist.

  He caught me.

  I search for Jason. He stands by the side, rubbing the back of his neck and appearing uncomfortable.

  Did Asher push him out of the way or something?

  “You can go, Jason.” Asher is speaking to him, but his entire attention remains on me.

  Like he doesn’t want to look away.

  Or can’t.

  “No.” I’m surprised my tone is level. “Jason and I are practicing.”

  “Youʼre practicing with me now.”

  “Pass.” I try to push off Asher, but his grip tightens around my waist until itʼs almost painful.

  Whenever I used to talk back to Asher, he’d give me looks of suspicion or even surprise. Those have completely disappeared lately. Now, he just watches me with all these dark, heated stares that flip my stomach upside down.

  “Iʼll just go,” Jason offers, s
hooting an undecipherable glance at Asher before he rounds the corner.

  “Put me down,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.

  Surprisingly, he does set me on my feet, but he doesnʼt remove his hand from around my waist. Heʼs too close, my breasts colliding with his chest…his hard, naked chest that’s glistening with sweat.

  My senses fill with his sandalwood and citrus scent, like a warm, sunny day. The place where his hand touches me erupts with heat even though my top serves as a barrier.

  My pulse picks up pace the more his attention swallows me whole. Itʼs like he can reach inside me and flip a switch to bring me back to life.

  Refusing to get sucked into his orbit, I glare full on. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He motions at the trampoline. “You said you want to practice. Iʼll catch you.”

  “I was doing that just fine with Jason.”

  His grip tightens until I wince and his voice comes low. “Is this a new game?”

  “Whatʼs the game in practicing with Jason?”

  “The fact that you never hung out with him before, or that you never called him a friend.”

  “Well, I do now.”

  “What changed?”

  “Me. I changed, Ash. Iʼm not the same Reina you used to know.”

  “Asher.” His jaw ticks as if he’s searching for patience. “The name is Asher.”

  “That’s one more thing that’s changed. I like Ash better.”

  He pauses for a second too long. I made him speechless, and my insides dance at the thought. It’s so rare to make Asher Carson speechless.

  His free hand trails up to my cheek and winds around my throat, but he’s not squeezing. He’s merely running his fingers along my skin, as if re-learning it.

  Heat invades me and goosebumps form on the skin he touches.

  “You’ve changed,” he says slowly.

  Finally.

  “You’re even blushing.”

  “Iʼm not,” I yell, but even I can feel the pits of fire on my cheeks.