Lies You Never Told Me Read online

  “No one’s watching.” I lean up toward him, and we kiss again, but this time he keeps it short.

  “We can’t risk it.” He gently shifts away from me. “Sunday. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “Where will we go?” I ask. He smiles and shakes his head.

  “It’ll be a surprise. Now go on—get upstairs before someone starts to wonder about my car.”

  I want to kiss him again, but it feels like a dismissal. The last thing I want is to seem desperate, needy, grasping—even though it’s almost painful to rip myself away. I grab my backpack from between my legs.

  “Okay. Sunday.” I open the door and get out. But before I close it behind me, I lean down to peer back at him. “Aiden.”

  NINETEEN

  Gabe

  The living room blazes with light. I sit next to my mom on the red flower-print sofa, my hands clutching my knees. Two uniformed officers sit in the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, one balancing a mug of tea on her knee.

  “No one at the school saw where she went,” says one of the officers, a young woman with wheat-colored hair and a hawklike nose. Her nameplate reads HUNTINGTON. “Her teacher says she left with a young woman, brunette, in her teens or early twenties.”

  “Why’d they let her go with someone they didn’t know?” I ask. “Why didn’t they call Mom, or me?”

  “She’s in a mainstream classroom,” says the other officer, a guy named Larson. He’s pale and balding, with a long, muscular jaw. “They have lots of kids to keep an eye on. And they said she seemed to know the woman picking her up.”

  It doesn’t make sense. I’ve gone through everyone I can think of, everyone Vivi might know and trust, but they’re all either too old or they don’t have brown hair. And Vivi’s trusting, but she knows not to go with strangers.

  “Why weren’t you there, Gabe?” Mom wipes at her face, looking at me with round, bewildered eyes. I wish I could disappear under that gaze.

  “I told you. I got a message from the office. They said it was from you.” My head spins. I try to remember exactly what it said. “You said you were picking her up.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was stuck in a meeting all afternoon. And why wouldn’t I call your cell if I had a message for you?”

  The question stops me in my tracks. I hadn’t even thought of that. I’d been so eager to hear I had an afternoon free—so excited to get a chance to see Catherine—that I hadn’t stopped to consider.

  Before I can say anything, my mom bursts into another torrent of tears. Her shoulders shudder, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

  “Mrs. Jiménez, please. We need you to stay calm. Vivienne needs you to stay calm,” says Huntington.

  “It’s Vivi. She goes by Vivi,” I say. Mom gives a little gasp of pain at the name.

  “Vivi,” repeats the woman. “I’m sorry. Vivi. But look—we need you to be calm in case we find her and she needs our help. You can’t do anything for her if you’re too upset.”

  I hear the words, but my brain refuses to imagine what that might mean. If she needs our help. If she’s hurt, somehow. If she’s …

  A knock comes at the door.

  No one moves for a moment. Mom stares across the room, trembling. The two cops seem to be communicating silently with each other. I’m the one who finally gets up and goes to see who it is.

  A slender brunette girl stands next to Vivi, holding her hand. Rowdy lingers next to Vivi’s shins, tail low and anxious.

  Vivi has a towering ice cream cone she’s licking evenly around each side, like I taught her. Her face is dirty and one pigtail sags low, but she beams up at me.

  I look again at the brunette, and I realize with a jolt that it’s Sasha. Smiling.

  The color doesn’t suit her. She looks sallow, like spoiled milk. She wears cut-off shorts, a snug plaid shirt, more casual than she usually dresses. For just a sliver of a second her eyes glitter with malice.

  Then she turns a thousand-watt smile past me, toward my mom.

  “Hey, guys, we’re …” She trails off as her eyes fall to the cops. “Oh my God, has something happened? What’s going on?”

  Rowdy low-crawls across the room and disappears into his crate. Mom jumps up and grabs Vivi, squeezing her so tightly the ice cream wobbles dangerously.

  The numb, detached feeling that’s had hold of me lets go. The world constricts to a tiny, blood-red point with Sasha at its center. She looks up at me with wide-eyed confusion, not a trace of menace in her expression.

  “What’s going on?” she asks. “Why are the cops here?”

  Officer Larson stands up and steps toward her. “And who are you, miss?”

  “I’m Sasha Daley.” She looks around from person to person. “I’m Gabe’s girlfriend. Or … I mean, I was.” She gives a soft, melancholy laugh. “Now we’re just friends.”

  Larson scribbles something in his notebook. “Did you take this little girl from her school this afternoon?”

  Her expression is so earnest, so ingénue-perfect that, for a split second, I actually wonder if this really is just some big misunderstanding—if she really is as confused as she looks. “Yeah, I did. Why? Did I … did I do something wrong?”

  Larson glances at his partner, then back at Sasha. “Well, no one seemed to know where she was. Did you talk to her mother about this?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I … I thought it was all worked out.” She looks at me, almost beseechingly. “Gabe said he was busy and asked me to pick her up and watch her for the afternoon.”

  My mouth drops open, but for a second nothing comes out. All I can do is shake my head. Everyone’s looking at me now.

  “Gabe?” asks my mother. I can’t look at her. I can’t see anything in the room but Sasha. Sasha, whose brow is crumpled now like she’s about to cry.

  “She’s lying,” I say. I fight to keep my voice controlled. It feels like my muscles are filled with something molten. I’ve never wanted to hit anything so badly in my life. “We broke up. Almost a month ago. Why would I ask her to get my sister? I don’t want her anywhere near my family.”

  Real tears spring to Sasha’s eyes now. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Because you’re lying!” It comes out as a shout. Larson shifts his weight a little, but I can’t help it. My fists are knotted at my sides. “I never told you to pick her up!”

  “We were at your locker, right before sixth period!” She looks at my mom. “Mrs. Jiménez, I’m so sorry. He asked me to watch her all afternoon or I would have brought her back sooner. I didn’t know you’d be so scared.”

  Vivi hasn’t stopped licking her ice cream, but she looks up at the sound of Sasha’s anguish. A worried expression works its way onto her face. She breaks away from Mom and staggers back to Sasha, putting her arms around her waist.

  “Don’t cry, Sash,” she croons. “It okay.”

  Larson looks around the room in exasperation. “Okay, so it seems to me we have a miscommunication …”

  “It’s not a miscommunication,” I insist. “I never told her she could take my sister. This is kidnapping.” My jaw is so tight I can feel my teeth screeching against each other. I stand for a moment, trying to breathe deep. Trying to calm down.

  “Stay away from my family.” I look right at Sasha. Daring her to smirk, to show the slightest bit of pleasure in this. Daring her to give me the slightest sign that this is part of her game.

  Tears brim at the edge of her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand.

  Officer Huntington moves gently between us. “Ms. Daley, why don’t you step out to the front porch with me. I’ll need a statement before you go, but then I think you can head home. Everyone here’s had a really long and difficult day.”

  “Okay.” Sasha gives Vivi one last squeeze. “Bye, kiddo.”

  Vivi smiles and lays her head against Sasha’s hip for a moment before being let go. She lets our mother scoop her back up and waves wi
th her ice cream cone, a ribbon of chocolate winding down her fist. “Bye, Sash!”

  Sasha pauses in the doorway, the cop just behind her. She looks at Vivi, but I know her words are meant for me.

  “It was fun,” she says. “I’ll see you again soon.”

  TWENTY

  Elyse

  I stand at the edge of the ocean, the wind whipping through my hair. The frigid water sweeps around my feet and pulls the sand out from under my toes. It’s a strange sensation, having the earth wrested out from under me. Feeling the tide’s gentle but inexorable power.

  I hug my jacket tighter around my shoulders and glance over at Aiden. He stands a few feet away, hands in his pocket.

  He’s quiet today. When he picked me up a few blocks from my apartment, we didn’t kiss—not in the middle of Portland, in broad daylight—but his hand reached across the console to hold mine. He held it most of the way to Cannon Beach. I relished the contact. His fingers were warm, calloused in some places and soft in others. But I also wasn’t sure what to say. The kiss changed everything. Or at least, it feels like it did. What did he expect from me? What did he want?

  Now, on the beach, he notices me looking, and smiles. I feel suddenly shy; I look down at my legs, at the sea foam swirling around my ankles. The air is chill and foggy, the water the gray-green of patina. But then he’s stepping close to me, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear, and I look up. It feels brazen, ostentatious. The line his fingertips etch across my cheek burns.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asks.

  It’s a simple question, a practical one. But I know what he’s really asking. Are you okay? Are you scared? Are you happy? Are you still on board with this?

  “Yes,” I say, resting my hand on his broad chest.

  *

  • • •

  We walk up and down the beach, looking at seashells and driftwood tangled with kelp. Haystack Rock looms across the sand, a barnacled hunchback wheeling with gulls. I trace our names in the sand with a stick and watch the water wear them away. It feels daring, putting our two names so close together, even if it’s so easily erased.

  Afterward, we get lunch in a bistro, plates of pasta and fresh, hot bread. We walk slowly through the little town, peeking into shop windows. There aren’t many people on the street, and a lot of stores are boarded up for the winter.

  “I’ve never been here before,” I say. He does a double take.

  “Really? It’s so close!”

  “Yeah, but my mom …” I shrug. “We don’t take a lot of road trips.”

  “Right.” He shakes his head. “I bet there are places all over the state you haven’t seen. Crater Lake? Opal Creek? Boardman State Park? Please tell me you’ve at least been to the Gorge.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I went to Multnomah Falls with my class in junior high.”

  He just shakes his head. “There’s so much more than just Multnomah Falls.” He looks down at me for a long moment, then covers my hand with his and takes it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “I’ll show you.”

  “Show me everything,” I say.

  He smiles, tucks an arm around my waist. I lean in against him.

  Then he jerks away so suddenly I almost fall over.

  Before I can say anything, he’s dodged into the bookstore just behind us. I freeze in surprise, the chill of the air sharp where a moment ago his arm kept me warm. I’m about to follow him when I see what he must have seen.

  Kendall Avery is coming out of a restaurant with her family, just across the street.

  Her parents look like they just stepped out of an L.L.Bean catalog, all fleece vests and worn, clean boots. Two little kids with the same red hair as Kendall play tag around a statue of a bear, giggling. Kendall herself stares down at her phone, looking bored and sour.

  My feet feel glued to the spot. It doesn’t look like she’s seen me—seen us—but I can’t be sure. What if she snapped a picture of Aiden with his arm around my waist and is posting it on Instagram right now? What if she’s texting everyone in the drama department? What if she’s calling the principal, or the cops?

  A moment later she looks up, and her eyes widen. I let out a heavy breath. It’s obvious she’s just noticed me for the first time.

  I realize I should move away from the bookstore—that I should put as much distance between myself and Aiden as possible. So I head up the sidewalk to meet her.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She just stares. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting the beach.” I gesture in the direction of the pounding surf.

  “By yourself?” She glances around. For a moment I think she’s skeptical—that she suspects something is off. Then I realize she’s just being a bitch. By yourself? No friends or family? So sad.

  I feign coolness, shrugging. “Yeah. Sometimes you just want some peace and quiet, you know?”

  My lack of interest in taking her bait seems to disarm her. She glances at her siblings, rolling her eyes. “Tell me about it. We’re here visiting my aunt for the weekend. I’ve been stuck in a bedroom with those brats for two days now.”

  “Good times,” I say. She snorts.

  “Yeah. Whatever.” She glances at her parents; they’re busy trying to herd the kids into the car seats in the back of a minivan. “I could probably get away for a little while. If you wanted to go hang out or something.”

  It’s an unexpected invitation. I don’t know if it’s a peace offering, or if she’s just desperate to talk to someone she’s not related to for a little while. I hesitate. I can’t ditch Aiden, obviously, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “Uh … that’d be cool, but I have to head back to town pretty soon. I have a shift tonight.”

  I can tell she doesn’t believe me. Her lips press hard together. “Okay, whatever. It was just an idea.”

  She turns before I can say anything and shoves her little sister out of the way, climbing into the back of the minivan.

  I stand still and watch as they pull away from the curb a few minutes later. I’m too relieved to feel guilty about the lie.

  *

  • • •

  Aiden texts me to meet him at the car in an hour. I suppose he wants to make sure the Averys are totally gone. When I climb into the passenger seat, he’s already there, wearing a baseball cap and a pair of shades.

  “That was …”

  “Close,” I finish. “I know.”

  He sighs. “We’ll have to be more careful.”

  I don’t say anything. It felt so right, holding hands, holding each other without fear. How is this going to work? Where can we be together, if not here?

  He reaches across the console and touches my shoulder, almost like he’s reading my mind. “Hey,” he says. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.” He pauses, then takes off the sunglasses so I can see his eyes. “You’re worth the risk.”

  My heart gives a lurch. It’s so easy to ignore my doubts when he touches me. When I look into those hazel eyes, the same gray-green as the foam that skims the beach.

  I hesitate. Then I nod.

  “We’re worth the risk,” I say.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Gabe

  It’s Monday, just before third period, and I stand in the Lower Courtyard, bouncing on the balls of my feet. Waiting.

  A soft breeze whisks stray leaves across the concrete. The only other people in the Courtyard are a couple of girls surreptitiously sharing a joint. One of them gives me a nod, gestures invitingly, but I just shake my head. Once upon a time, maybe, but now I have other things on my mind.

  Finally, the door swings open. One of the girls pinches out the joint reflexively, then looks relieved when it’s only Catherine.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.”

  She steps close to me, biting the corner of a fingernail. She looks like she hasn’t slept well; dark circles cradle her eyes, and she’s paler than usual. Her hair hangs limp around her narrow face. I haven’t seen he
r since Friday, but we’ve been messaging back and forth. Talking about what happened with Vivi. With Sasha.

  “You okay?” she asks. She leans against a pillar, cocks her head sideways like a bird.

  “Yeah. In trouble with my parents, but that’s nothing new. And … you know, I feel like an idiot.” I’d fallen for Sasha’s trick without a second thought. I’d been so eager to be with Catherine. I’d been careless. “But Vivi’s fine. It was just a dumb prank.”

  I take a deep breath and sit down on one of the lawn chairs as the third-period bell echoes through the Courtyard. The stoner girls head inside, leaving behind the faint smell of weed and Nag Champa.

  All weekend I tried to persuade my parents that Sasha is trouble—that they should press charges or issue a restraining order or at least get an alarm installed—but they wouldn’t listen to me. My mom just keeps saying to leave it alone, that Vivi’s safe and that’s all that matters. My dad can’t seem to get it through his head that I never told Sasha to pick Vivi up. “You didn’t say anything that could have led her to misunderstand?” he asked, again and again. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.” I even told them about her breaking into the house the night of the party, but they blew it off, like it was just some dumb, petty drama.

  “Gabe, seriously,” Mom finally said. “Drop it. We don’t want to make more trouble. Let’s just be grateful it’s over.”

  So I gave up trying to argue with them.

  For her part, Sasha’s been on her best behavior since that night. No more Snaps. No more nocturnal visits. Just a radio silence that I find almost as unnerving.

  “A dumb prank?” Catherine runs her fingers nervously through her hair. “Gabe, she faked a call to the office, pretending to be your mom, so she could take your little sister. That’s not a prank, that’s … really messed up.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not even sure we should be here together. If she sees us …”

  “Has she said something to you?” I look up sharply.

  She frowns a little. “No. But she’s obviously not over you. And she’s obviously unstable. Gabe, I … I really like you, but I can’t afford this kind of drama.”