Things Liars Say (#ThreeLittleLies #1)(27)

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Put me out of my misery Cal,

It’s been a few days since my last email, and I’m just writing to tell you that I know you have a match that night. The 9th. I obviously didn’t know about it when I asked you to be my date, so I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you by asking. I feel horrible. But why haven’t you emailed me back? Why haven’t you texted me? It’s making me feel really shitty. I thought we were friends, and I thought… Never mind what I thought. Just send me a note back. Because I’m bossy and I say so. And because I miss you so much. Yours, Grey





Cal: You know what?

Cal: Fuck it. I’m coming.

Cal: What time should I pick you up?





To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Douchebaggery

Grey. I don’t think you can begin to comprehend the level to which I’m getting harassed over here for missing this match to come to a dance. Some bastard put tampons in my locker yesterday, and today the ugliest prom dress was hanging from the wakeboard rack on top of my truck, blowing in the wind like a flag. - Cal





To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Squeals of delight.

Calvin,

Oh no! That sounds… hilarious, actually. But don’t mind me. I’m just delirious with excitement that you’re coming. I would love to have seen your face when you opened your locker to tampons. What brand are they? I’d hate to waste a new box. KIDDING. Kidding. Sort of.

I’m not even going to pretend I’m not happy dancing my way around the house. I’m not going to send you “Oh, Cal! You HAVE to go to your game! Don’t miss it on my account!” notes. Because the truth is, when you texted that you were escorting me to the gala, I squealed so loud Melody burst into my room with a baseball bat. She thought I was being attacked. So, I CANNOT WAIT to see you. I can’t wait for you to see my dress. I can’t wait to dance with you. And I guess I should mention now that the evening is going to run really, really late. I know SMU is only an hour away, but… Greyson





Cal: Why, Miss Keller, are you propositioning me for an overnight?

Grey: Hmmm. Am I? I just meant I know you’ll be tired. I have to stay afterwards with my committee and remove some of the sorority insignia and stuff. The hotel staff will do the rest, but there will be a short lag before I can leave.

Cal: This is at a fancy hotel, right?

Grey: Yup. The Crown Hotel. It’s 5 stars.

Cal: Wouldn’t it just be easier to book a room?

Grey: Well, yes, but…

Cal: Let me take care of it.





Greyson





I have a thousand things to do but can only focus on one thing: Cal. Cal, who’s skipping his game for me and is surely going to pay the consequences. Cal, who’s driving an hour out of his way to be with me. Cal, who calls me sweetheart.

Four times in fact.

I counted.

Sigh.

I scoured online for hours to find this, the perfect dress, and as I stand in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting the invisible neckline with trembling fingers, I stare, trying to imagine how Cal will feel when he first sees me in it.

I didn’t just choose the dress with him in mind; I chose it for him.

Flesh-colored netting hugs my shoulders so they appear bare, while an intricate white lace overlay creates a cap sleeve and bodice. White embroidered flowers cover the tapered waist, the skirt flaring in a bell at my hips. The dress is both ridiculously sexy and modest at the same time. Rhinestone stud earrings complete the elaborately elegant ensemble.

I run a hand over my hair. The intricately loose fish braid is nestled in a cascade of loose hair and adorned with a vintage white floweret clip. I sat patiently in a salon chair two hours, and the outcome is messy and complex and exquisite.

I love it.

My minimal eye makeup was expertly applied. Dramatic false eyelashes, the darkest mascara, nude shadow. Flushed skin. Bright plum matte lips that are a contrast to my white dress and blonde hair.

I take a deep breath, running a hand over my nervous stomach.

“Whoa! I mean—wow! Seriously, Grey, you look freaking amazing!” Melody floats into the room, her soft pink gown drifting airily around her tall frame. “You look like Blake Lively on the red carpet. Holy wow. Just stunning.”

“Me? Look at you! Let me see the back,” I say, twirling her around to peek at the back of her dress. Or lack of it. “Seriously, Mel, Sam is going to crap himself.”

She runs a hand down a front pleat and sighs. “Well, I’m hoping to get a few good pictures taken so I can snap them to Mason. Who is, by the way, totally pissed off at Cal for bailing on their game. Or match. Or whatever they call it.”

“What’s he been saying?”

Melody smoothes a hand over her sleek chignon. “That Cal is * whipped.”

I try to hide a smile behind my long braid, but the dark plum lipstick gives away my pleased smirk.

“I see that smile, Greyson Keller! Brat.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “It’s so romantic. He’s going to end up on the bench, but Mason says he doesn’t even give a shit.”