Lying Out Loud(53)

Amy wouldn’t hear it, though, so I just nodded and sat down on the bed to tie my sneakers. It was seven-thirty, and the party started at eight. The Rushes had curfew set at eleven on weekends, so at least this would all be over in three and a half hours.

Which would likely be the worst three and a half hours of my life.

“Just so you know, I told Ryder you had plans with your parents,” I said. “I know you’re tired of the lying, but if I hadn’t said something, he’d expect you to be there, so …”

“It’s okay.” She sat down next to me on the bed. “It’s the last lie you’ll tell in all of this.” She sighed. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m really glad it’s going to be over tonight. I’m no good at lying, and always keeping an eye out for Ryder at school — ducking into bathrooms and around corners — I’m way too tall and awkward to be a superspy, Sonny.”

I laughed, despite myself. “You can say that again.” I got to my feet. “Okay. How do I look?”

“Adorable,” Amy said. “Love the blue turtleneck. Is that mine?”

“Yep. Don’t tell, but I had to stuff my bra a little bit to make it look right on me. I like to think that if I look nice enough, Ryder might be like, ‘Yeah, I’m super pissed, but you’re hot, so all is forgiven.’”

“Seems totally plausible to me,” Amy said. “But if that doesn’t work out, I’ll be waiting here with ice cream and Audrey Hepburn movies.”

“You know I’m more of a Marilyn girl.”

“We’re not having this fight again.”

“Another time,” I assured her. “But now, I’m off to my doom. Enjoy your evening.”

I exited the bedroom with dramatic flair, which was somewhat undercut by Amy following me downstairs.

“Hey,” she said as I slid on my coat by the front door. “Can I say just one more thing?”

“You never have to ask me that.”

“He’s probably going to be mad at first,” she said. “But if he doesn’t realize how great you are, despite this little kerfuffle —”

“ ‘Kerfuffle’? Oh my God, you’ve been around me too long.”

“Shut up and listen.” But her lips twitched toward a smile. “Despite this kerfuffle, if he doesn’t see how awesome you are, Sonny, it’s his loss.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting another hug that I definitely did not deserve.

She was wrong, though. If — when — Ryder rejected me and refused to speak to me again, the loss would be entirely my own. The guilt twisted in my stomach, and I wished, not for the first time, that I’d found a way to tell him the truth earlier, when the lie first began as just an accident. But now, it had gone way too far.

“See you later,” I said, opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

“Good luck,” Amy called.

I dragged my feet down the driveway. When I finally reached Gert, I pulled out my keys and sighed. “It’s gonna be a long night, girl,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get it over with.”





Chris Lawson wasn’t one of those popular jock types. But man, he wanted to be. He was constantly trying to be the cool guy, seemingly unaware that cool people were cool because they didn’t try.

And Chris’s party was kind of a reflection of himself.

It wasn’t bad as far as parties go. It was just trying too hard.

The speakers were blasting loud rap music when I walked in. People were milling about the living room, red Solo cups in hand, though no one seemed quite as enthusiastic about the party as Chris, who darted over to greet me.

“Sonny!” he shouted. “Awesome! Glad you came!”

“Thanks, Chris.”

“You should go dance! Everyone’s dancing!”

No one — not a single person — was dancing.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Wanna watch me do a keg stand?”

“Sure, but not right now. I’m actually looking for someone. Is Ryder here yet?”

“Who?”

“Ryder Cross.”

“The new kid?” Chris asked.

Ryder had been in Hamilton for more than a semester, so I wasn’t sure “the new kid” was still an appropriate title, but I nodded nonetheless. “Yeah. Is he here yet?”

“Yep. Saw him walk back into the kitchen a few minutes ago.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said. “Enjoy the party, Sonny! We’re gonna blow this place up!”

“Uh-huh. Definitely.”

As promised, I found Ryder in the kitchen, a red cup in his hand.

“You drink?” I asked, a little surprised.

He looked up and smiled when he saw me. “Sometimes,” he said. “But not tonight. This is water. I don’t have enough friends here to know I’ll have a ride home.”

Damn. I was sort of hoping to get him inebriated before the truth came out. Why did he have to be so mature and responsible?

“You can drink, though,” Ryder said. “I know Amy isn’t with you, but I can give you a ride home later if you wanted.”