Lying Out Loud(68)

“Isn’t that plagiarism?”

I looked up. “Huh?”

“Aren’t you plagiarizing the oath people take on the stand?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know if that’s plagiarism.”

“It might be.”

“What if I change the last bit? From ‘so help me God’ to ‘so help me’ … Gert?”

“I’m not sure if it has quite the same power? Gert can’t smite you.”

“No, but she can stop running while I’m in the middle of a busy highway and get me killed.”

“Fair point.”

I scratched out God and replaced it with Gert to avoid any possible plagiarism allegations.

“Okay. Last try. I, Sonya Elizabeth Ardmore, hereafter —”

“Should it be ‘hereafter’ or ‘hereby’?”

I dropped the paper back onto the desk. “I give up. I’m never reading anything out loud to you again.”

Amy giggled. “Sorry. It’s just hard to take this seriously! I’m glad you’re determined to stop lying, but is this really necessary?”

“Yes. This makes it official. And it gives you license to punish me if I break the oath.”

“Well, in that case …” She stood up from the bed and walked over to where I was sitting. “I know I’m teasing you, but I really am glad you’re doing this, Sonny. Not the oath — that doesn’t matter to me — but just trying to tell the truth.”

“It’s terrifying,” I admitted. “It shouldn’t be. I know it shouldn’t be. But I’ve been able to hide behind made-up stories for so long, being honest feels like being vulnerable.” I picked up the pen. “But clearly the lying didn’t do me any favors, so …” I leaned forward and scribbled my signature beneath the typed-out oath. “So, there. It’s official. No more lies for me. Not even tiny white ones.”

“Hey, Sonny, what did you think of the chicken Dad made last night?”

“I can still plead the fifth.”

Amy chuckled.

I picked up the signed oath. “Can I frame this? Do we have a frame?”

“I’m sure we can find one.” She smiled at the piece of paper. “I think telling the truth will earn you some serious karma points, too. Have you talked to Ryder?”

“Karma doesn’t like me that much. And neither does Ryder. He still won’t speak to me.” There was a squeezing feeling in my chest and the threat of tears whenever I mentioned him. I took a deep breath and tried to shake it off before standing up and stretching my arms over my head. “I think I have a long way to go before the universe starts doing me any favors.”

Just then, my cell phone began to ring. I glanced down at the screen and was surprised to see a number I recognized. It belonged to Daphne’s, one of the clothing stores in the Oak Hill Mall, where I’d applied back in December.

Amy must have noticed the startled smile on my face, because she laughed and said, “Or maybe not,” before prancing out of the room.

*

I had made a vow to be honest about everything and with everyone, no matter how difficult it was.

And that meant I had to talk to my dad. In person.

It was a two-hour drive to the correctional facility, but Mr. Rush assured me that he didn’t mind taking me.

When we arrived, a guard patted us both down, checking that we weren’t bringing in anything illegal, then we were free to enter the room where the inmates waited. The room was lined with long, rectangular tables. The wearers of the orange jumpsuits were on one side, and the rest of us were on the other.

I may not have seen my dad in years, but I knew him the minute I saw him. Mostly because he looked so much like me. His hair was blond and curly, his nose had a slight upturn, and his ears stuck out just a little more than was fashionable. Yep. I was his spitting image, as the old folks say.

“Sonny.” His face split into a wide, boyish grin when he saw me. “Wow. You’re a grown-up. In my head, you’re still this tall.” He held his hand just a bit higher than the edge of the table.

“Well, you’re not too far off,” I said. I smiled, but the nerves were eating me alive. This man might look and sound like me — I definitely got my charm from him, not Mom — but I still didn’t know him.

He could have been a liar like me, too.

He had been in the past.

Dad looked up and spotted Mr. Rush standing behind me. “Hello,” he said.

“Dad, this is Mr. Rush,” I said. “He’s my friend Amy’s dad.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember little Amy. And that’s where I called you on Christmas, right? At the Rushes’ house?”

I nodded.

“Hi. I’m Collin,” Mr. Rush said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Dad hesitated. “Thanks for bringing Sonny Bunny here to see me. I take it her mother refused? She’s always been a little on the difficult side, if you know what I mean.”

I sat down in the folding chair across from Dad and took a deep breath. Behind me, Mr. Rush cleared his throat.

“I’m going to step outside for a minute,” he said. “Give you two a chance to talk.”

When he was gone, Dad turned to me, confused. “What’s going on, Sonny Bunny?”