Started With a Lie – Chapter Seventeen

Mark and I sit down for a cup of coffee at Dunkin Donuts even though it’s very late at night. There are only a few customers around and the worker that hands us our coffees looks like he would rather be anywhere else but there. I don’t even know why we decided to go for coffee. I definitely know I’d have a hard time sleeping tonight.

            “So,” I say, “what’re you doing in Brownwood?”

            “Um, some business matters,” Mark replies, taking a sip of his coffee. He scrunches his face up and mutters, “It needs more sugar.” He takes a packet of Sweet & Low and stirs it in his cup.

            “And you just so happened to just ‘coincidentally’”—I mimic air quotes with my hands—“run into the same store that I worked in? Out of all the stores?”

            He grins, “Yeah.”

            “Sure,” I say, positive he followed me or just came to bother me. “You could have just called me or something if you wanted to hang out.”

            “Well, I do want to hang out,” Mark laughs. “But I did come here for business so, you’ll be seeing me more often. I even actually rented out a house here just for the time I’ll be staying.” He takes a gulp of coffee.

            “Oh, serious business, huh?” I ask. He nods and laughs. It’s so easy to talk to him. The words come right out of my mouth unlike…Lee. I haven’t thought of him for a while. But there’s a constant urge to think about him.

            “What’re you thinking of?” Mark asks, peering at me.

            “Um, have you been in contact with Lee? How’s he doing?” I say, playing with the rim of my Styrofoam cup. I don’t want to come off as too eager to know about how he’s doing.

            Mark’s smile fades and he turns his eyes out the window. “I don’t really talk to him much. But, I’m sure he’s doing fine. He always is.”

            “D-Did you know he had a fiancé?”

            “What?” Mark snaps his head back to me. He regains his composure. “Oh. Did he now?” He takes a sip of his coffee nervously. “Didn’t think he’d recover that fast,” he mumbles to himself, his cup at his lips that block out what he’s saying and leave me to put the pieces together.

            Did I hear that right? Recover from what? Maybe I was imagining things. “Um, what?” I ask Mark. I can’t ever imagine Lee needing to recover from anything. He seems like the type of guy who has the strength of Iron Man—emotionally and physically.

            “Hm?” Mark looks at me, back from whatever he was thinking of. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s none of my business anyway. I shouldn’t leak his secrets without consent.”

            I frown. Lee will always be a mystery. “Oh.”

            Mark looks at me, his eyebrows furrowed—he’s trying to figure me out. But he can’t because I put up a pretty good poker face most of the time unless it’s Lee. Everything’s different with Lee. I sigh.

            “Changing the subject,” Mark says, “how’s it going?”

*        *           *             *            *             *              *          *       *

I get home around nine and I can feel my senses tingling alert. I knew drinking coffee this late was a mistake. Now, I would never fall asleep. I have school tomorrow too. I groan, placing the keys on the counter next to the door.

            I shut the door and lock it before I walk inside the living room. I see the light shining from under the door from Mom’s studio—probably working late again. Throwing my bag on the couch, I get myself some water to maybe help the caffeine leave my system.

            School has been hectic and crazy. First, Karen and I are just on…weird terms. After the whole scenario at the auditorium and kicking her boy—ex-boyfriend’s ass—we don’t know how to act. We’ve hated each other for years. How are we supposed to act? Well, at least now she doesn’t talk to me or push insults my way. We just avoid each other, I guess. Act like the strangers we are. To be completely truthful, I kind of miss her. Yes, Candy is an amazing friend but Karen? We just had a bond impossible to break.

            But it did.

            You can’t just forget someone who’s listened to every secret, been through every downfall, stood by you at the most embarrassing times. I guess one day she just got sick of it and finally realized what a loser I was and ditched me.

            She was always the prettier one.

            All I did was drag her down. And since I’m being honest, I guess I was kind of happy when she acted rude to me. It gave me an excuse to be rude to her. I’d always been jealous and a bit angry that she was so flawless—a little conceited for that matter—it was just bittersweet when we just stopped being friends.

            But I’m happy where I am. I’m free, I guess. Even if she did ask me to be friends with her, I wouldn’t. Yes, I helped her out but that’s because I’m human and it was my last token of our friendship for her.

            I’m in sweats and my hair is up in a ponytail before I go to the kitchen and get myself a good old bowl of cereal. There seems to be nothing good on television so I curl up on the couch with my laptop placed on top of a pillow. Mom is still in her studio, the light flooding out from her room. I haven’t seen her all day.  I get up from my comfortable position and walk to her room.

            “Mom?” I say when I see her. Unlike most days, today she’s sitting at her desk with loads of papers scattered around her—some crumbled and others erased over and over. She’s sketching, her hand moving fast against the paper. Her hair is a mess, strings falling here and there.

            She looks older than before. Her wrinkles are deeper.

            “Mom?” I repeat. Mom finally hears my voice and looks up. Her hand stops moving and she sets the pencil down. Pushing all her hair behind her ears, she smiles up at me.

            “You’re home, dear.” Her face looks worn and tired. I haven’t seen her so stressed since Dad passed away. She has a fake smile plastered across her face.

            “Are you okay, Mom? You seem to be working really hard,” I say, pursing my lips. I drape and arm over her shoulders and she puts her hands over mine. “Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”

            Mom’s smile falters a little. “I’m fine, Ivory. Don’t worry about me.”

            I stare long and hard into her eyes. I can obviously see how exhausted she is but she’s still putting up a front. If I worry, or show my worry—she’ll have even more on her plate. So I just give a tight smile and nod. “Did you eat yet, Mom?”

            “Yes, darling,” she responds. “How about you?”

            “Um, yeah,” I say, scratching my cheek. “I had some dinner with a friend.” Well, I don’t know if you could consider coffee and donuts as dinner. Mark sure didn’t seem to mind.

            “Oh, okay. Was work okay besides that?”

            “It was fine,” I say. I glance at her drawings. There are tons and tons of different sketches of the same stage. It’s a platform and flowers are surrounding it in some. Why would she be designing a stage? She was an artist, not some architect. “Mom, why are you drawing these?”

            She looks over at them and starts moving them around in a pile. “It’s nothing. Just something I’m working on.” Mom looks frantic. She’s lying. But I won’t push it.

            “Oh…” I say. “Then, good night, Mom.” I kiss her forehead and she pats my hand before I leave. I close her door gently and get back to my laptop. Mom is hiding something from me. I can feel it. But I know she won’t tell me and if I ask, she’ll just cover up her tracks more than now. I take in a deep breath.

            I sit down with the hot laptop on my lap.

            On Google, I can’t help but search up Lee’s fiancé. I only know her first name so I start by typing in Lee and Penny together. Several links come up and I pick the first one. It’s a picture of a beautiful woman with Lee. Their arms are wrapped around each other’s shoulders. The headline reads: Lee Richardson with the beautiful Penelope Roberts.

            I start reading the article.

            At the social event of the year, Lee and Penelope—both heirs to their own businesses—share a drink with each other for the opening of the franchise. Rumor has it that both the Roberts and Richardsons are planning to try to arrange a marriage for Lee and Penny. There is nothing confirmed thus far, but just look at them! They’re perfect for each other.

            There’s more under it but I’m so angry that I just slam the laptop closed and slide it on the couch. In the bathroom, I angrily brush my teeth as I stare in the mirror. My eyebrows are knitted together.

            They’re perfect for each other. Well, at least the article got one thing straight. Beautiful Penny and handsome Lee just belong together. They’re both rich, too. Why don’t they just announce it to the whole freaking world that they’re just meant to be?! My cheeks are tinted red from my anger.

            I spit the toothpaste out and rinse my mouth. I get to my room and fluff my pillows before I crawl under the covers and yank the blanket over my body. Angry thoughts fill my mind as I drift off. I think I even imagine different ways to skin, boil, and cut Lee and Penny and hide their bodies.

            I’m a disturbed person.

The next morning, I feel like a total zombie. Why didn’t I go to sleep earlier, I think as I pour myself coffee. The sweet aroma drifts into my nose and I inhale the rich smell. My eyes open a fraction wider. I have to shovel the driveway if I want to get to school on time. “Ugh,” I groan, sipping my coffee.

            When did I become so grumpy all the time?

            My eyes widen in realization. When did I become so grumpy all of a sudden? I walk to the mirror next to the front door and stare at myself. Wrinkles are forming on my forehead. I press them with my fingers but they stay.

            I sigh, taking another sip of my coffee. I’m a high-school student—a senior, dang it—and I’m getting wrinkles? I’m not supposed to be stressing. I’m supposed to be partying, letting loose—not worrying about stupid guys and money. The only things I should be stressing over are high-school boys and high-school problems.

            Why the heck am I acting way too old for my age?

            “Morning, Ivory.”

            Mom is pouring herself a cup of coffee as well when I turn around. There are bags under her eyes and I really want to ask her what she’s working on. I mean, it’s kind of affecting her own health. Any daughter would be concerned.

            Instead, I end up saying, “Morning, Mom.” I force a smile and she smiles back with the mutual fake smile that she has been wearing lately.

            “Are you going to get to school soon?” she asks.

            “Hm?” I sip my coffee to its last drop. Wait…school? “Oh yeah! I have to go shovel the driveway!” I race into the kitchen and place my cup in the sink. I give Mom a kiss and say something in between the lines of, “Love you, see you soon.” Rushing to my room, I throw on some clothes and dash out the front door.

            The wonderful ground greets me when I slip as soon as I hit the pavement of the driveway. There’s pain somewhere around my leg and I can feel my butt frosting slowly as I lay there.

            What a bright way to start the morning.

            “You okay?” someone says.

            My head snaps to the voice but because I’m on the ground, all I see are the clear gray skies and leafless tries around me. I use the side of my Honda car to slowly get up, being dangerously careful in case I slip again. Everything on the ground is ice.

            “I’m fine,” I call back and look around to locate the voice. It finally lands on a certain someone who’s on the opposite side of the white fences that border my house. “Mark? What’re you doing here… again?”

            “Me? What are you doing here?”

            “I live here.”

            “So do I.”

            “You live here?” I ask, my eyes open wide, all signs of sleep gone. What did he mean he lives here? I’ve never seen him in Brownwood my entire life and I’m pretty sure that in a tight-knit town like Brownwood, nothing gets past anyone.

            “Well, yeah,” Mark replies. “This is the house I rented for a couple of weeks or so for my business here. What about you?”

            I grin sheepishly. “Well, this is the house I’ve been living in kind of forever.”

 *              *         *           *          *             *          *           *

In the end, Mark gave me a ride and explained to me how he had rented the place and how we were going to be great neighbors. I thanked him for saving me from all that shoveling and possibly to my own death since I’m not really that great around ice—or anything else I could trip over for that matter. We laughed and joked around as he rolled up along my high school. Apparently, he hadn’t known I was a high school student but he treated me no different.

            So here I am in Biology, bored out of my mind. The teacher continues talking and talking as everybody else slowly falls asleep.

            The rumors have died down about the whole Peter-thing. It’s old news. There seems to be a bigger scandal including our principal and the nurse getting it on in one of the beds down at the nurse’s office. Weird, I know. Our town’s corrupted.

            Suddenly, the bell rings and everyone bolts out of class. I don’t waste a second escaping either as I run out into the hallway. It’s like rush hour on the highway when I get out—totally expected—but I have to push through more than usual.

            In the smack middle of the crowd, Karen passes by me. And we’re kind of stuck there for a moment due to everyone pushing around each other. She gives me quick nod with an almost smile before we’re both shoved our own way.

            Like I said, we’re on strange terms.

            After shoving everything in my locker like I usually do, I shove everyone in my way as I try to get through to History. But I’m surprised when I hear my name over the speakers.

            “Miss Ivory Flores, please report to the main office. Miss Ivory Flores, please report to the main office,” the nasal-voiced lady repeats over the speakers.

I am so sorry I haven't update for... well, forever.

Writer's block sucks. But I'm back now. And yeah. Sorry for keeping you all lovely people waiting. Hope y'all don't hate me. Also hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And thank you SO much for 2 million reads! I know I know... what did I ever do to deserve that? You got me thinking the same thing. (:

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kinky bastard, are ye?

sorry. lol. i've been saying that all day.             

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