Little Lies(44)

Kodiak: where are you

Lavender: drama clb at scool

Lavender helps paint the sets because it’s what she’s really good at. She can sing, but she doesn’t like it when there’s too much attention on her. Any attention really. Teachers know not to call on her in class—not because she doesn’t know the answers, but because she can’t stand all of those eyes on her, and she can’t respond when everyone is looking.

She loves the drama club, but lately she’s been having a hard time because there’s a girl who isn’t very nice to her.

Kodiak: Courtney messing w u?

Lavender: she wont leve me alone

Our school is close to the arena. I check the clock. We can stop, and I can fix whatever is wrong and still make it to practice on time.

I take a deep breath and fight the panic creeping down my spine over the little lie I’m about to tell. “Oh crap!”

My dad glances at me, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I left my math binder at school, and we have a test on Friday I need to study for.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll stop at the school and pick it up on the way home from practice.”

I let my knee bounce and run my hands up and down my thighs. “Can we stop on the way to practice? Sometimes they lock the doors to the hallway my locker is in before five, and then I can’t get to it. It’s an algebra test, and I got a few questions wrong on the last assignment. I don’t want to mess it up again.”

My dad looks at the clock and then down at my shaking legs. The little lies make my throat feel tight. We do have an algebra test, but I almost always have perfect scores on my math. But if my dad thinks it’s going to make me anxious during practice, he’s more likely to stop for me. He doesn’t understand my worry the way my mom does, and he doesn’t read my cues the same way either.

My mom would know I’m faking it, and she’d make me use my strategies to help calm down. My dad always goes right into solve-the-problem mode.

“You can’t be late for practice.” He grips the wheel, obviously considering it.

“I won’t be late. It’ll just take me a minute to grab it. Please? I really need to study tonight.” My voice cracks, because some of my anxiety is real. I need to get to Lavender, and if he doesn’t stop so I can, I’ll end up having a real panic attack. Practice will be a mess, and it’ll be a huge downward spiral that will take me hours to get out of.

I’ll feel guilty that I let down my team, and I’ll feel even worse that I couldn’t help Lavender. The sooner I can get to her, the better everything will be.

“Okay, but you run in and grab your textbook and that’s it.” He taps on the wheel, frowning.

I nod vigorously. “I’ll be super fast.”

He pulls up to the front doors of the school, and I jump out before the car even comes to a full stop. As soon as I’m inside, I text Lavender to tell her I’m here and on my way to the theater.

She doesn’t ask any questions, like how I managed to get here when I have practice.

Lavender: in the prop room

I burst through the door that leads directly to the stage. I know the drama room well, even though there’s no way I would ever be part of any kind of production.

I search for Courtney in the group of kids standing around, but I don’t see her.

I head for the hall leading to the prop room, and one of the boys calls out, “The gym is on the other side of the school.”

The drama teacher, Miss Garrett, calls my name, but I ignore her. My whole body breaks out in a cold sweat. I’m going to get in trouble for this—from Miss Garrett and definitely from my dad when I’m not back in two minutes—but I don’t care. Lavender needs me.

It’s dark behind the curtains, like a starless night sky, because the walls are painted black. As soon as I start down the hall, the noise of the students on the stage disappears, replaced by Courtney’s nasal voice.

“What’s wrong with you? You just do this to get attention. You know no one likes you, right? Everyone thinks you’re a weirdo and a loser. They’re only nice to you because of your brothers and Kody.”

I rush toward her voice and the plaintive, low sound of Lavender trying not to cry. When I finally reach them, I find not only Courtney, but two of her other friends too. They form a wall in front of the prop room, blocking the way out. The room is dark, but the glow of a phone illuminates the girls’ faces and the fact that one of them is covering the light switch with her hand.

They don’t notice me, so I approach quietly, waiting until I’m right behind them before I growl, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Courtney shrieks, and the other two girls gasp and spin around. I slap the light switch on the wall, bathing the prop room in a harsh fluorescent glow. Rage makes my blood boil when I see Lavender backed into a corner, curled in on herself on the floor, forearms pressed against her ears to protect her from their words, face tucked into her knees, hands clenched into fists.

Courtney raises her hands, eyes wide, feigning innocence. “Kody! Oh my gosh, Lavender’s having one of her meltdowns, and we were trying to help.”

I get in real close and drop my voice. “By calling her a weirdo and a loser? Get outta my way, now.”

I push between them and crouch down in front of Lavender, acting as her shield. “Leave us alone,” I snap, running a gentle hand over the back of her head and softening my tone. “It’s okay, I’m here.”