The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett(71)

My mom opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.

“Got over it? Like it’s that easy? One day, you’re shuffling around the house as if the world’s ended, and the next day, it’s like nothing happened. Seriously, you were acting like you were the one dating her.”

“I guess someone needed to, since her actual boyfriend doesn’t seem to give a shit about her.”

“He’s not her boyfriend anymore!” I slammed my hands down on the table. An extremely uncomfortable silence fell over the room, and I realized how loud I’d shouted.

“That’s enough from both of you,” my mom said quietly.

Rush and I glared at each other across the table. I said “Rush is dating some chick with a kid. He’s hiding it from you ’cause he thinks you’ll judge him.”

Then I got up and walked out of the room.

? ? ?

I was pretty sure I was a terrible sister. And daughter. And friend. And girlfriend, if that was a title I could even claim. I was a terrible everything. I paced back and forth for what felt like hours, not wanting to leave the safety of my room. Finally, I decided to suck it up and do the right thing.

I caught Rush as he was leaving the house, on his way to see his girlfriend probably.

“Hey, wait,” I said, following him out onto the porch.

It was cold outside. I hadn’t put on shoes or socks. I crossed my arms in front of me and tried to hold in the warmth.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could take back what I said.”

Rush stuck his hands in his pockets. “Let’s forget it, OK? I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to antagonize you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You accepted my apology unusually fast.”

Rush mimicked my expression. “How would you know? I’m not sure you’ve ever apologized before.”

“Well, not without being forced to anyway,” I said. Rush laughed, but I hadn’t entirely been joking. I really wasn’t a very good sister to him. “I hope Mom and Dad weren’t too weirded out. About your girlfriend, I mean.”

“They had to find out sometime.”

“Well. Sorry again. I’m glad we’re OK.”

Rush ruffled my hair for the second time that night. “Later, Hawthorn.”

Then he bounded down the porch steps and across the yard toward his car. I went back into the house where it was warm. I pulled the afghan from the back of the couch, wrapped myself in it, and curled up in an armchair.

Mostly, I thought about how maybe, probably, when everyone you know tells you the same thing, it’s a good idea to at least listen to what they’re saying, no matter what you think is right. But I thought of other things too, like how there were other people who still believed that Lizzie could come back, and how I always ended up being awful to the people I cared about. And I thought of Enzo too, of course. He’s what I was thinking about when I fell asleep.





Chapter 29


A Strange New Place

The longer I kept the kiss to myself, the bigger it grew. It started to feel like the most important thing that ever happened in the history of the universe. I needed to let out my secret. I needed a friend. I almost wished Lizzie were around, because I could have talked to her, and she probably would have understood my turmoil. Though she might not be thrilled that I was kissing her boyfriend.

Sundog’s wisdom about having myself to talk to popped into my head. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.

I grabbed my jacket and a notebook and went to the front porch. I tried to draw my feelings. Tried to let everything in my head and heart run out of my body through my hand and reappear on the paper in front of me. It only took about two seconds to realize that wasn’t going to work. Enzo was the artist, not me.

I turned to a blank page. I stared at it. Then I started writing.

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who got kissed that way.

It was a movie kiss.

A fairy-tale kiss.

It was everything I’d ever imagined but didn’t think was real.

One moment, we’re in the woods, talking. Arguing, almost. The next, Enzo was kissing me passionately.

Do other girls get kissed like that all the time?

Maybe every kiss Lizzie Lovett ever had was just like that one.

Or maybe my kiss with Enzo was special. Not just when measured against the other kisses I’ve experienced but when measured against all the kisses ever.

Well. Maybe not ever.

Kissing Enzo was fireworks. It was the first day of summer vacation. It was waking up from a nap and finding out the world changed while you were asleep, became a millions times brighter and better.

What if everything that’s happened since the morning I found out Lizzie was missing was all to get me to this moment, to this totally strange and awesome new place?

What if—

The sound of tires on gravel interrupted me. Connor’s car was pulling into the driveway. I flipped the cover of my notebook closed and set it on the swing.

“Hey, Thorny,” he called, making his way across the yard and up the porch steps.

“Rush is out.”

“He just texted. He’ll be here any minute.”

Connor leaned against the porch railing, waiting. I wanted to get back to writing.

“You can wait inside,” I offered.