Lies I Told by Zink Michelle

Author:Zink, Michelle [Zink, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-01-27T08:00:00+00:00

Thirty

It was a Friday afternoon in early November when I came downstairs to find the Allied installation team packing up and leaving. Selena had talked me into joining her for a walk at the Cove, and I had come home from school to change into jeans and a sweater. I grabbed an apple from a bowl on the kitchen table as my mom closed the front door on the last of the installation workers.

“Is that it?” I took a bite of the apple, avoiding her eyes. It had been two weeks since my argument in the car with Parker after Logan’s party, and I still felt guilty about breaking the War Room rule. Parker’s attitude, and my own anger toward him, had made me reckless. I considered confiding in my mom, telling her everything—Parker’s increasingly sullen moods, his unwillingness to integrate with Logan’s group, the darkness that seemed to be eating him alive all over again. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know what my dad would do to Parker, but he’d already been warned. We weren’t there yet. Things were still under control. More or less.

My mom nodded, heading for the dishwasher. “I’ll show you how to work the alarm keypad before you go. It’s pretty simple.”

“Great.”

“What are you up to tonight?” she asked.

“I’m going to the beach with Selena, and then we’re going to grab something to eat,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows. “No Logan?”

“We’re going out tomorrow night.” I couldn’t tell her that I needed a break from Logan. Not because I didn’t like him, but because I had to brace myself to see him, prepare myself for the war raging almost constantly in my head. The battle between heart and head, a battle that only had one possible outcome.

“That’s nice,” she said. “Probably better to not to be too available anyway. Keep him interested.”

I gave her a halfhearted smile as she ran the tap in the kitchen sink.

“What about Rachel and the other girls?” she asked, loading a few glasses into the dishwasher. “I thought you were focusing on them?”

Her choice of words was appropriately vague, but I knew what she was getting at: She didn’t think Selena was important. She wasn’t as rich as the others, wasn’t as cemented into the group.

“Selena’s one of us now,” I explained. “Plus, she’s played the role of observer for a long time. You’d be surprised what she knows.”

I hated myself for saying it, even if it was true. My friendship with Selena wasn’t about the con.

My mom nodded. “I can see that.”

“What are you up to?” I asked, eager to deflect attention away from myself.

“There’s a board meeting for PHCT. We’re putting the finishing touches on their annual fund-raiser, which as it turns out, is held at the Fairchild house.”

PHCT was the acronym for the Playa Hermosa Community Theater group. It had become a common topic of conversation around the house ever since my mom had joined the board to get close to Logan’s mom. So far

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