Текст книги "Lying Out Loud"

Автор книги: Kody Keplinger

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 20

Bianca hadn’t disappointed when it came to snacks for the night. She bought candy, popcorn, and a gallon of chocolate-swirl ice cream. Not to mention more Cherry Coke than a person could or should even drink in two days, which was all that remained of our Appalachian adventure.

The four of us piled into the living room, the fireplace blazing, to watch the ball drop. Amy stayed quiet, as she usually did when I was in the room now, but I tried to keep my spirits up. Partly because of what Wesley had said – knowing that when Amy was ready, she’d talk to me – but mostly for Bianca’s sake. This trip had been her idea, after all, and I hadn’t been the most pleasant guest.

“You sure you don’t want any ice cream, Amy?” Bianca asked.

“No, thank you,” Amy said.

“Not everyone likes ice cream in the dead of winter,” Wesley said.

Bianca shut him up by shoving a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He reeled back, cupping his hands over his head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Bianca teased. “Brain freeze?”

Wesley took a few deep breaths, then looked up. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said just before leaping on top of her. She shrieked as he began to tickle her sides.

It was too disgustingly adorable, and I had to look away. Which was when I caught Amy’s eye.

She was watching me, I realized. I gave her a small smile, but it fell fast when she looked away.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she said, getting to her feet.

Bianca and Wesley sat up, both still laughing.

“It’s only eleven-thirty,” Bianca said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m a little tired. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well … we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Amy,” Wesley said.

“Good night.” She started down the hallway, toward our little room, then stopped and looked back. “Hey, Sonny?”

I turned to her, surprised and a little hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Will you come talk to me for a minute?”

“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”

I stood up, then looked over at Wesley, who was giving me a very I-told-you-so look.

“Night,” I said, and left Bianca and Wesley alone in the living room, waiting for the ball to drop.

I followed Amy into our room and quietly shut the door behind me. Amy sat down on the bed, chewing on her bottom lip. I remained standing, leaning against the wall.

“So, I’ve been thinking … about this whole Ryder thing,” she said.

“Amy, I’m so sorry about the texts,” I said, unable to hold it back. “I know it was wrong. I knew it even when I did it, and you have every right to be pissed at me. But I swear, it won’t happen again.”

“I appreciate that, but —”

“I mean, you have your phone back now,” I said. “And I haven’t IMed Ryder in forever, so the catfishing is over.”

“Good …” She took a deep breath. “But it’s more than just that.”

“I know,” I said. “The texts were kind of dirty and that’s weird for you, and I’m really —”

“Sonny, no,” she said. “I mean, yes. It’s weird. But that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Well, then, say it.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed. “I know you really like him. And I know you didn’t mean to upset me. You’d never mean to do that. But … this whole thing has gone on a lot longer than I thought.”

“What whole thing?”

“Your plan,” she said. “To make Ryder like you and not like me. Me acting weird and rude around him. I just … I really don’t feel comfortable doing it.”

“I know,” I said. “I know. But we’re so close.” I moved to sit on the bed beside her. “Really, really close, Amy. It won’t take much longer.”

“You’ve said that from the start,” she said.

She wasn’t wrong about that.

“But, Amy —”

“Wait. Just … let me finish.” She tugged on a curl and stared at the wall for a second, silent. “I know you like him,” she said again. “But I don’t think I can do this anymore. I can’t keep lying. I’m not good at it the way you are. And I don’t like being rude. And I don’t like him thinking I’ve been sending those texts —”

“I told you. I don’t do that anymore.”

“But it’s already been done,” she said. “And he thinks it was me who sent them.”

“So … what are you saying?” I asked.

“I guess I’m saying that I want out,” she said. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“But you said you’d help me.”

“It didn’t feel like I had a choice,” she admitted. “And I didn’t think it would go this far. I’m sorry, Sonny. I just … I can’t.” She wrung her hands in her lap and took another deep breath. “And … and I want you to tell him the truth. That none of it was me.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t seen that last part coming.

“I just … I think he should know,” she said. Every word seemed to cost her something. “And I need him to know. It’ll be better for all of us.”

I nodded, but inside I was a mess of feelings. Anger at Amy, guilt, regret, heartbreak. Because for all the good things Wesley had said on our hike that day, about Ryder maybe surprising me, I knew it didn’t matter now.

If Amy wasn’t going to play along anymore, I didn’t have a choice. I was going to have to come clean, and that meant I had no chance with Ryder. All of our progress had been for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“I understand,” I said.

And I did. As upset as I was that she was bailing, I knew why she wanted out. This scheme had gone on a lot longer than either of us had expected, and I’d known for a while she wasn’t happy about it. I’d just hoped that if I pressed on, things would get better.

They hadn’t.

“So … you’ll tell him?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I will.”

“Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and rested her head on top of mine. “Thank you for understanding.”

As we changed into our pajamas and climbed into the bed, I tried to look on the bright side. Everything was about to crumble with Ryder, but at least I had Amy back.

That’s what really mattered, right? It was like Wesley said. Amy and I had been together forever. We needed each other. It would be crazy to let a guy – even a great guy like Ryder – come between us.

That didn’t make what she was asking easy, though.

In the other room, Bianca and Wesley cheered as the television counted down. “Three! Two! One!”

“Happy New Year, Sonny,” Amy whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Chapter 21

I was dreading history class on Wednesday morning, the first day back from break.

Not only would it be my first time seeing Ryder since our almost-kiss in the Rushes’ driveway and my first contact with him since I’d promised Amy I’d tell him the truth, but we were also beginning our unit on World War I, which I – personally – found super boring.

I hadn’t figured out yet when or how I was going to confess my myriad of lies to the boy of my dreams, but I had a feeling that doing it at school, with everyone around, was a bad idea. While part of me was glad to have a little more time, another part just wanted to rip off the damn Band-Aid and get it over with. It was going to be ugly no matter when I did it, and I knew, without a doubt, that it would end any hope I’d had of winning him over in the long run.

Which was why seeing him smile up at me when I walked into class that morning was so incredibly painful.

“Hey, Sonny,” he said, swiveling in his seat to face me as I sat down behind him. He gave me a slightly nervous smile and adjusted his thick-framed glasses. “How was the rest of your break?”

“Good,” I mumbled as I pulled out my textbook. “How was yours?”

“It was fine.”

There was a long, awkward pause. I fidgeted in my seat and fiddled with the pages of my book. Finally, I looked up and caught him watching me. I expected him to ask about Amy, but he didn’t. “You okay?” he asked. “You seem a little … off.”

He was right. Sonny Ardmore wasn’t known for avoiding people’s eyes. Or for mumbling. Today I was definitely “off.”

I shook my head. “I’m good. Just … trying to get back into the swing of things. It’s always hard after a long break…. And you know how much I hate talking about World War One.”

He laughed. “Yes. I think the whole class does. You’ve been pretty vocal about it. You actually asked Mr. Buckley if we could skip the whole unit last semester.”

“And I’m going to ask again,” I assured him. “Persistence is a virtue.”

“I thought patience was a virtue.”

“A virtue I lack.”

Oh, no. I was doing it again. Sinking into the rhythm of our conversation, letting myself get swept up in it. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself fall any harder for him. Not when it was all about to go up in flames. Time to get started on that Band-Aid.

“Hey, listen, Ryder,” I said. “Are you … are you busy this weekend?”

He raised an eyebrow, and I realized with a jolt what my question must have sounded like.

“Just to hang out … as friends,” I added. I almost told him that I needed to talk to him about something, but I knew that would just solicit too many questions. I wanted to tell him on the weekend, sometime when he wouldn’t have to see me the next day. I figured it would be kinder to the both of us.

“Actually,” he said, brightening, “I was going to invite you to a party. I’ve somehow managed to acquire an invitation to Chris Lawson’s on Friday night. I guess my efforts to be less of an asshole have paid off.”

A party wasn’t exactly the scenario I’d had in mind – again, too many of our classmates would be around. But at least the music would be loud enough that, hopefully, no one would hear him screaming at me. Or maybe I could pull him into a bedroom or somewhere outside. Or, even better, I could get him drunk before I told him the truth.

Or maybe I just secretly wanted to go to a party with Ryder Cross at least one time before this all fell apart.

“That sounds great,” I said. But then, knowing what he might say next, I preemptively added, “I don’t think Amy can come, though. She’s got plans this Friday. With her parents.”

“Oh,” he said. But he didn’t look as disappointed as I’d expected. I tried not to read too much into that. “Well, that’s fine. We can still hang out, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. If you’re okay with that.”

“I am,” he said. He smiled. “It’ll be fun. I’m actually excited to go to a party here. Maybe finally make some friends. Show people I’m not a pretentious snob.”

“Oh, Ryder.” I sighed. “You are a pretentious snob … but you have a few redeeming qualities. Namely that you’re rich.”

“Ha-ha,” he said. “I was wrong. You’re not off today. You’re very Sonny.”

“And by ‘Sonny,’ you mean delightful?”

Mr. Buckley walked in then, and Ryder had to turn back around in his seat. I was relieved, honestly. The more I talked to Ryder, the less I wanted to tell him the truth. And not telling the truth wasn’t an option anymore. I’d promised Amy, and I was going to follow through on it. No matter how hard it might be.

Or how much it might break my heart.

* * *

“So you’re telling him tonight?”

“Yep.”

It was Friday, which meant I’d survived the past two days seeing Ryder in class, knowing the end was coming. But here we were, an hour before the party, and I could almost hear the countdown in my head, ticking away like one of those time bombs on TV.

Amy stood up and grabbed the pick from my hand. “You’re going to rip your hair out,” she said. “It’s gonna be okay, Sonny.”

I stared at the mirror over Amy’s dresser as she took a section of my hair and began combing through the curls herself. I’d already done my makeup twice, but it still didn’t look right. Probably because I never really wore makeup. But waiting for the party for hours after school was too nerve-racking. I needed something to do with my hands. Something I could do and erase and redo to perfection. Not that I’d achieved makeup perfection.

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” she said, moving to another section of hair.

“He’s going to hate me, Amy.”

“No, he won’t.”

“Just because you’re so forgiving doesn’t mean everyone else is.” I tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. It was too tight and the turtleneck was choking me. “He’ll never speak to me again.”

Amy didn’t say anything as she finished with my hair. Under her careful guidance, my curls actually looked nice. She smiled at her handiwork, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Thanks,” I said.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug. “I know this is hard, but it means a lot to me.”

I nodded and leaned my head on her shoulder. “I should’ve done it a long time ago. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this. I really didn’t think it would go this far, but …”

“But it ends tonight,” she said. She released me and brushed a few of my curls behind my ear. “And you’ll feel so much better afterward.”

I nodded, though I knew it wasn’t true.

“And who knows?” she said. “You two have a connection. You’ve said so yourself. Maybe once he learns the truth, he’ll recognize that. Maybe he’ll understand and you two will finally —”

“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t give me false hope.”

“I reject and deny the notion of ‘false hope.’ Hope is never false.” She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “If he’s smart, he’ll listen. He might be mad, but he’ll hear you out and realize how perfect you are for him.”

But I knew Ryder. He may have been smart, but he held a grudge. He’d gone from practically worshipping his father to wanting nothing to do with him. What his father had done was awful, no doubt, but he was still his family. And who was I? The best friend of the girl he thought he liked? The annoying girl from history class? He owed me no loyalty.

Amy wouldn’t hear it, though, so I just nodded and sat down on the bed to tie my sneakers. It was seven-thirty, and the party started at eight. The Rushes had curfew set at eleven on weekends, so at least this would all be over in three and a half hours.

Which would likely be the worst three and a half hours of my life.

“Just so you know, I told Ryder you had plans with your parents,” I said. “I know you’re tired of the lying, but if I hadn’t said something, he’d expect you to be there, so …”

“It’s okay.” She sat down next to me on the bed. “It’s the last lie you’ll tell in all of this.” She sighed. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m really glad it’s going to be over tonight. I’m no good at lying, and always keeping an eye out for Ryder at school – ducking into bathrooms and around corners – I’m way too tall and awkward to be a superspy, Sonny.”

I laughed, despite myself. “You can say that again.” I got to my feet. “Okay. How do I look?”

“Adorable,” Amy said. “Love the blue turtleneck. Is that mine?”

“Yep. Don’t tell, but I had to stuff my bra a little bit to make it look right on me. I like to think that if I look nice enough, Ryder might be like, ‘Yeah, I’m super pissed, but you’re hot, so all is forgiven.’”

“Seems totally plausible to me,” Amy said. “But if that doesn’t work out, I’ll be waiting here with ice cream and Audrey Hepburn movies.”

“You know I’m more of a Marilyn girl.”

“We’re not having this fight again.”

“Another time,” I assured her. “But now, I’m off to my doom. Enjoy your evening.”

I exited the bedroom with dramatic flair, which was somewhat undercut by Amy following me downstairs.

“Hey,” she said as I slid on my coat by the front door. “Can I say just one more thing?”

“You never have to ask me that.”

“He’s probably going to be mad at first,” she said. “But if he doesn’t realize how great you are, despite this little kerfuffle —”

“ ‘Kerfuffle’? Oh my God, you’ve been around me too long.”

“Shut up and listen.” But her lips twitched toward a smile. “Despite this kerfuffle, if he doesn’t see how awesome you are, Sonny, it’s his loss.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting another hug that I definitely did not deserve.

She was wrong, though. If – when – Ryder rejected me and refused to speak to me again, the loss would be entirely my own. The guilt twisted in my stomach, and I wished, not for the first time, that I’d found a way to tell him the truth earlier, when the lie first began as just an accident. But now, it had gone way too far.

“See you later,” I said, opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

“Good luck,” Amy called.

I dragged my feet down the driveway. When I finally reached Gert, I pulled out my keys and sighed. “It’s gonna be a long night, girl,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get it over with.”

Chapter 22

Chris Lawson wasn’t one of those popular jock types. But man, he wanted to be. He was constantly trying to be the cool guy, seemingly unaware that cool people were cool because they didn’t try.

And Chris’s party was kind of a reflection of himself.

It wasn’t bad as far as parties go. It was just trying too hard.

The speakers were blasting loud rap music when I walked in. People were milling about the living room, red Solo cups in hand, though no one seemed quite as enthusiastic about the party as Chris, who darted over to greet me.

“Sonny!” he shouted. “Awesome! Glad you came!”

“Thanks, Chris.”

“You should go dance! Everyone’s dancing!”

No one – not a single person – was dancing.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Wanna watch me do a keg stand?”

“Sure, but not right now. I’m actually looking for someone. Is Ryder here yet?”

“Who?”

“Ryder Cross.”

“The new kid?” Chris asked.

Ryder had been in Hamilton for more than a semester, so I wasn’t sure “the new kid” was still an appropriate title, but I nodded nonetheless. “Yeah. Is he here yet?”

“Yep. Saw him walk back into the kitchen a few minutes ago.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said. “Enjoy the party, Sonny! We’re gonna blow this place up!”

“Uh-huh. Definitely.”

As promised, I found Ryder in the kitchen, a red cup in his hand.

“You drink?” I asked, a little surprised.

He looked up and smiled when he saw me. “Sometimes,” he said. “But not tonight. This is water. I don’t have enough friends here to know I’ll have a ride home.”

Damn. I was sort of hoping to get him inebriated before the truth came out. Why did he have to be so mature and responsible?

“You can drink, though,” Ryder said. “I know Amy isn’t with you, but I can give you a ride home later if you wanted.”

“And leave Gert here? Where anyone might steal her?”

He snorted. “I have the feeling no one wants to steal your car.”

“Hey, don’t dis Gert. She’s vintage.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

The truth was, I would have loved for Ryder to drive me home. To maybe, possibly, go through with that almost-kiss from a couple of weeks ago. But I knew that, after what I was about to tell him, there was no way he’d want to be stuck in a car with me. In fact, he’d probably be more than happy to strand me here at Chris’s party.

Ryder finished his water and tossed the cup into the recycling. “It’s for the best,” he said. “I’m sure the beer here is no good.”

“Oh, great. Are you a beer snob, too?”

“No,” he said defensively. “I just prefer PBR.”

I snorted. “Of course you do. I should’ve known.”

Ryder looked a little sheepish.

“You know,” I said, “this is something you and I may have in common. Pabst Blue Ribbon might be the drink of hipsters, but it’s also the drink of my people – poor white trash. It was always my dad’s favorite beer.”

“Don’t call yourself white trash,” he said. He was suddenly very serious, and looking at me in a way that he hadn’t before. In a way that made me catch my breath.

Now was the time to tell him. Get it over with and go home. I opened my mouth to begin the confession, to finally tell him the truth, but the words that came out weren’t at all the ones I’d intended to say.

“Do you wanna dance?”

Ryder blinked at me. “What was that?”

Take it back, I thought. That’s not why you’re here. My mouth and my brain seemed to be at war with each other.

“Let’s dance,” I said, already trying to justify it. I had a few hours. Might as well have a little fun before I broke the news, right?

“But … no one else is dancing.”

“Perfect. Then you can be a hipster about it later. We were dancing before dancing was cool,” I said, doing a fake Ryder voice.

“I do not sound like that.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.” I grabbed his arm and started pulling him into the living room. “Come on. Be spontaneous.”

“The last time you said that to me, I ended up in a bright orange hunting jacket in the middle of the mall.”

“And wasn’t that fun?”

The answer must have been yes, because Ryder didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed my other hand and spun me into the living room. The heavy bass hip-hop wasn’t exactly the right jam for spinning and dipping a girl, but Ryder didn’t seem to care. He twirled me like a ballroom dancer, and somehow managed to keep us in rhythm with the music.

“Wow,” I said when he swung me back into his arms, his hand resting on my hip. We were so close, closer than we’d ever been before. And I felt like I was on fire. And then there was the fact that everyone was staring. “This is how you dance at parties?”

“My mom made me take ballroom classes in middle school,” he confessed. “It’s the only way I know how to dance. Sorry. It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s the opposite of embarrassing. It’s fantastic. These idiots wish they could be us right now.”

Ryder smiled and gave me another spin.

We danced until we couldn’t anymore. Until our feet hurt and we were short of breath, either from the exertion or from standing so close to each other. For me, it was definitely the latter.

“Do you want some water?” Ryder asked.

I nodded, and we made our way back to the kitchen, stumbling despite our sobriety.

Ryder grabbed us each a red cup and began to fill them with tap water. I hopped up onto the counter, taking some of the pressure off my feet. “Damn. That was —”

“That. Was. Awesome!” Chris announced as he charged into the living room. “You two killed it out there! Everyone’s talking about it!”

“The same way everyone was dancing earlier?” I asked as Ryder handed me my cup.

Chris didn’t seem to hear me. “Ryder, dude, that was wicked! I thought dancing was lame, but all the girls out there ate it up! You’ve gotta teach me your moves!”

I snorted into my water as I imagined Chris trying to dance the way Ryder did. He’d probably get a little too into it and end up giving some poor girl a concussion.

“I’ll put on whatever music you want if you guys want to dance again!”

“Maybe in a little while,” Ryder agreed. He looked over at me, those green eyes meeting mine in a way that made me shiver. “If Sonny’s up for it.”

We held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

“Sweet!” Chris said. “I better get back out there. Gotta keep things under control.”

“What was out of control?” Ryder murmured so that only I could hear.

I laughed, and Chris ran back into the living room.

“You know,” Ryder said, “we probably were the highlight of this party.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m the highlight of every party.”

Ryder smiled. “I don’t doubt that.”

Again with the shiver.

Everyone must’ve finished their beers at once, because all of a sudden the kitchen became a high-traffic area. Ryder took my cup from me so I could hop off the counter without spilling. He gestured for me to follow him, and we wove our way through the pack of thirsty partyers, darting into the hallway to avoid another run-in with Chris.

Somehow, we ended up in an empty bedroom.

I took my cup back from Ryder and sat down on the edge of the bed. “So,” I said. “What’s the verdict on your first Hamilton party?”

“Not too shabby,” he said.

“But I’m sure it doesn’t even compare to the parties back in DC, right?”

“This party is much better than the ones in DC.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, setting my cup on the nightstand. “That’s not even remotely possible. You partied with politicians’ kids. I watch enough TV to know it gets wild. Plus, you’ve got money. Which means better booze, at the very least.”

“Maybe the parties back home had some advantages,” he agreed, putting his own water down before sitting next to me.

Really close to me.

“But,” he continued, his eyes on me in that way again. That way that gave me chills and made my face burn all at once. I was suddenly very aware of where we were – an empty bedroom, on a bed. “The company here is much better.”

“Ryder,” I said, even though every inch of me was fighting me, trying to keep me silent. But I couldn’t put it off anymore. “I need to talk to you … about Amy.”

He shook his head. “Amy is the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

I’d been dying to hear those words for months. Dying for him to look at me the way he was right now. But it was too late. I’d promised Amy, sworn I’d tell him the truth tonight.

I swallowed. “Listen —”

“Sonny, wait,” he said. “I just … I need to …”

Then he kissed me.

And his mouth definitely didn’t taste like root beer. It was mint.

One of his hands was on my neck, the other on my knee. I didn’t move – couldn’t breathe or think – as his lips moved over mine. I was stunned. Paralyzed.

But when he pulled away, even just an inch, it felt like I might die.

“Was … was that okay?” he asked. “Should I not have done that?”

No. He definitely shouldn’t have. Because I needed to tell him the truth.

Now.

Just say it, I told myself. Before this goes any further.

“Sonny?” His voice was quiet, nervous. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. Or just not … I didn’t know I was going to do it until —”

“Shut up,” I said. I grabbed him, a hand on either side of his face, and pulled him back toward me for another kiss. My heart was pounding and everything I’d wanted over the past few months was spinning in my head.

This time, when our lips met, I wasn’t paralyzed at all.

* * *

Amy was already in bed when I slipped in that night, but she wasn’t asleep.

“Hey,” she murmured as I climbed over her and into my side of the huge bed. I’d been sleeping in here again since coming back from Tennessee. “How did it go?”

“Great,” I said.

We’d made out in the bedroom for a while before Chris walked in on us. And then, when Ryder walked me out to my car, he kissed me again. I was sure it was supposed to be a quick good-night kiss, but it had lasted much longer, my back pressed against Gert’s driver’s side door, my arms around Ryder’s neck.

I’d had to speed home to make curfew.

I could still feel the ghost of Ryder’s lips on mine, his phantom hand on my hip. I shivered and hid my face in the pillow, though in the darkness, Amy could never have seen my blush.

“Really?” Amy asked, her tired voice going up an octave with excitement. “That’s a relief. So you told him the truth?”

Everything was going right. Amy wasn’t mad at me anymore. Ryder had kissed me. Like, a lot. I had everything I wanted. Everything I’d been hoping for since this started in September. But it all could’ve fallen down with a little gust of wind. One wrong move, and I would lose everything.

So I did what I do best. What I always did when I was scared.

“Yeah,” I lied. “I told him everything.”