Tell Me Pretty Lies(6)

Holden Ames.

He sits at his desk, slouched back in his seat with his legs spread wide, like a fucking king sitting on his throne, surrounded by his loyal subjects. I should feel sad looking at the group of people I used to hang out with, but they were never my friends. Not really, anyway. Holden, on the other hand, he was my best friend. And I miss him more than my pride will allow me to ever admit out loud.

I freeze, heart in my throat when his eyes meet mine. I knew I’d have to face him eventually, but I didn’t prepare for how I’d feel if we had a class together.

He stares daggers at me, his lips curling up in disgust. My fingernails dig into the strap of my backpack as I glare right back, even though my heart isn’t in it. We all experienced a loss. But Thayer and Holden lost a brother. And even though I loved Danny like a brother, it wasn’t the same. Grieving him feels like a slap in the face to them. Like I’m not allowed to be sad when they’ve lost so much more than I have.

After long seconds, Holden shoves out of his chair, gripping his binder at his side and prowls toward me. I hold his stare, my body locking up as he gets closer, anticipating whatever verbal smackdown I’m about to receive.

“Thayer know you’re back?” he asks in that low, threatening tone that’s usually reserved for his enemies. I’m not used to having it directed toward me.

I shrug in response as if to say, how should I know?

A slow smile spreads across his face. “This should be fun.” He barrels past me, shoulder-checking me on his way out the door.

I stumble back, frowning, my gaze following his retreating back as a sinking feeling hits my gut. So much for time apart lessening the blow. So much for a fresh start.

“Mr. Ames!” Mr. Garcia calls out. But Holden doesn’t stop, throwing up his middle finger behind him in response. If he were anyone else, he’d be suspended. Or at the very least, he’d get hit with detention. But he’s Holden Ames, son of August Ames.

And me? I’m screwed.





Shayne



My last class couldn’t end quickly enough. I felt the weight of everyone’s attention on me like a thousand bricks on my back. As soon as the bell rang, I made a beeline for the parking lot, shooting a text to Valen to let her know I decided to walk home instead. I didn’t want to tell her about my run-in with Holden. I knew she’d try to fix the problem, for one thing, and I wasn’t in the mood to be fixed.

I wasn’t ready to go home and play twenty questions about my first day back with my mom either, so I walked around the wooded area behind my grandma’s house—my house now, I remind myself—wasting time, lost in thought. On the other side of these woods is Whittemore, and the barn sits in between the two estates, but it’s technically on their land. I don’t know what possesses me to go to the old barn, but that’s exactly where I end up. Old habits die hard, I guess. That, and the fact that I’m a glutton for punishment.

Slowly, I approach the injured tree from that night, pressing my palm against the bare strip of bark that’s much lighter than the rest of the tree, amazed by its resilience. I decide right here and now that I want to be like this tree. A little scarred, but still standing strong. When I left Sawyer Point, I was Grey’s little sister, Amelia’s estranged granddaughter, and the girl who lived with the Ames brothers. I just want to be Shayne. And I want to stand on my own two feet.

Walking in the direction of the barn, I pause when it comes into view, an unexpected wave of emotion rolling through me at the sight of it. From the outside, it looks exactly the same, as if no time has passed at all. I haven’t been here since that night, even when I wanted nothing more. It felt like his.

I jiggle the padlock, defeated, but then a thought occurs to me. I make my way over to the rock that used to act as our hiding spot. It’s a long shot. I doubt Thayer left it here. He knows I know where it is, and he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to hurt me. I pick it up, and the fact that I have to wedge it free from the dirt tells me that it hasn’t moved in a long time.

“Holy shit, it’s still here,” I whisper to myself, plucking the key from the ground and shaking the excess dirt off. Thayer kept this here so I’d always be able to get inside. Does this mean there’s still some part of him that cares? No. I shake the thought from my head as fast as it came. Why do I do that? Romanticize what I thought we had? He’s made it more than clear that whatever it was meant nothing to him. I meant nothing to him.

Even still, this place means a lot to me. He doesn’t get to take that, too.

Turning back for the door, I stick the key in and twist. The lock pops free and I don’t waste any time letting myself in. The moment I step inside, I know it’s been vacant for a long time. Maybe even since the last night we were here together. The night everything changed. It’s cold, dark, and…lifeless. Empty and stale.

Memories flash into my mind, unbidden. Thayer smoking his cigarettes while we took turns listening to our favorite songs. The first time we kissed. The first time he touched me. In here, we didn’t have to worry about our parents, or about what people thought. In here, we were just…us. In here, we were free.

But now it’s just an old barn.

I walk over to the worktable and swipe my finger across the layer of dust coating the top. He really hasn’t been back here. Unexpected sadness creeps in at the thought. I stayed away for obvious reasons, but before it was ours, this place was his. I swallow hard, turning to leave.