I hate that he’s right.
Before coming here, I hardly ever lied. I would say that I never lied, but there were occasions that I lied. Like, when my mom asked me if her hips looked big in that one pencil skirt. They did look big, but I couldn’t tell my mom that. I still cringe when I see her wearing that ugly skirt. I should burn it.
But now, I am a liar. A pathological liar. And I know that I have to lie. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty. But I do. I so do. I push away my food, not able to eat another bite. My stomach is so full of guilt and misery that there is no room for these delicious tacos.
“You okay?” Estaine asks.
I nod. Once. It’s another lie. I’m not okay.
When I was kidnapped, it didn’t affect me. I mean, it scared me, but my life was pretty much the same, aside from the added bodyguards. But then the girl from my school died. And it upset me. When I came here, I didn’t want to come, but I realized it was a fresh start. I was excited about the fresh start. I thought the terrorists would eventually forget about me. But after what happened in Texas, I am a bit shaken up. What if they do come after me here? What if they somehow find me? And my friends.
The terrorist aren’t just after me. They’re after my dad and stepmom, too. They have taken a lot of precautions for their safety. I wish I could be there with them, but I understand why I can’t. My dad is worried about me and he wants me to be somewhere safe in case the terrorists do manage to get to him.
“Did you guys hear that a terrorist group attacked a school in Texas yesterday?” Teagan asks.
I nod, but nobody else seems to have heard.
“What happened?” Emma asks.
“Apparently they broke into the school and killed the principal and one student. They shot another kid, but I think they said she’s going to live,” Teagan says. “It was at a school not too far from where my parents live, and everybody is really upset about it. They haven’t caught the guys who did it, and they don’t even know why they did it. There wasn’t a motive. Apparently there were some files ransacked, but that was it.”
“Weird,” Estaine says.
“Totally,” Emma agrees.
I want to tell them it’s my fault.
But I can’t.
Instead, I get up from the table and walk out of the dining hall without another word. I ignore my friends as they call after me. Once I am outside, I run to my dorm room and spend the rest of the afternoon crying.
4pm.
I can’t take anymore crying today.
I skip soccer practice. I know that I shouldn’t, I just can’t face everybody right now. What Teagan was saying in the lunchroom just made it all more... real. It was like both of my worlds collided in the worst possible way.
Well, I guess not the worst way. The worst way would be terrorists finding me and shooting all of my new friends. Still, I wanted my worlds to stay completely different, and now I realize that it isn’t possible. The guilt of lying is eating me inside, and I hate it.
Not wanting to sulk anymore, I drive to Uncle Matty and Jake’s house. I have to ask them about Saturday, and I know it’ll be better in person. I imagine that I will have to do a lot of begging.
Also, I kind of want to avoid Estaine. I figure maybe I can’t hang out with them until later. It’s a great plan, if I do say so. Even though he will most likely see right through it.
Eventually, I will have to talk to Estaine. But not today. Definitely not today.
When I pull up to the house, Jake is in the front yard, washing his car.
Oh, thank goodness. Maybe I can avoid Uncle Matty.
“Hey, Jake,” I say.
“Everything okay?” he asks me.
“Yeah. I just... need to talk.”
“Oh, okay,” he says, letting out a breath.
He puts down the water hose and goes to sit on the steps of the porch. I sit beside him.
“So, what’s this about?” Jake asks. “You look nervous.”
I look nervous?
I look down at my hands and see my fingers intertwined. When I’m nervous, I play with my hands.
“The thing is...” I clear my throat. Nope. I can’t ask right off the bat. I’ve got to warm up first. “Do you remember being a teenager?”
He laughs. “I’m not that old, Phoenix.”
“Right,” I say.
Ah, crud. Now I’ve insulted him by calling him old.
“I just mean... um... did you have a girl that you liked when you were a teenager?” I ask.
“Of course. Lots of them.” He pauses. “Why do you ask?”
“I kind of like this boy, and I think he likes me,” I say. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he does. He texts me all the time and tells me how beautiful I am. And he wants to hang out with me on Saturday.”
“I’d definitely say he likes you,” Jake says. “Boys don’t call girls beautiful unless they mean it... or...” He looks at me, his eyes wide. “You know, you should be careful. You’re young. You don’t need to date right now.”
My face grows warm.
I’m pretty sure I know what he’s insinuating.
“Brooks isn’t like that,” I say.