Live Your Best Lie (Volume 1) by Jessie Weaver

Author:Jessie Weaver [Weaver, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2022-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

Friday, May 29, 4:05 p.m.

The Cartwrights’ Loft

“Here.” Summer handed Grace a fat Cuban cigar from her father’s humidor. “One for you, and one for me.”

It was the last day of sophomore year, and Summer had dragged Grace into her father’s office, the one room in the Cartwrights’ loft Grace had never entered. The office was also the one room that wasn’t an homage to minimalism. Quite the opposite. The lights were heavy brass, and the art so expensive that one piece had its own security camera pointed at the frame. Matching sets of leather-bound books that no one would ever read lined the shelves.

“I don’t want to smoke this,” Grace said.

“We aren’t going to smoke them. My lungs are a temple. We’re just going to take pics with them like we’re celebrating school being out.”

“We are celebrating school being out.” But Grace still clamped the cigar between her teeth and tried to find a balance between the cigar not falling on the floor and her not biting the end off.

“Pics or it didn’t happen.” Summer held her phone out on selfie portrait mode and snapped a few different angles with the cigars between their lips.

“Can we put these away now? If your dad comes home, and we’re in here—”

“Fine. But he’s on set today, so he won’t be home for hours.” Summer rolled her eyes, stuck both cigars back in the humidor, then sat with her feet up on her father’s desk. “What do you want to do now?”

“Lay out by your pool?”

“Meh.”

“Beach?”

“Too many tourists lately.”

“Beanery?”

Before Summer could answer, Mr. Cartwright flung open his office door. He always entered rooms, never just went in like a normal person. Grace’s stomach leapt into her throat. He wasn’t on set after all, and she wasn’t sure what he’d do if he thought they’d been going through his stuff. Her eyes flicked to Summer, who jerked her feet off the desk like she’d been caught committing a crime. Her face looked frozen, and for the barest second, Grace thought she saw real worry in the flare of Summer’s nostrils.

Mr. Cartwright’s eyes darkened when he saw Summer at his desk. “Get the hell up from my desk and—” He reached toward her like he was going to grab her arm and drag her out of his office. But when his eyes landed on Grace, his entire demeanor changed. He smiled a full smile that showed all his top teeth. “What are you two doing in here? Causing trouble?”

“Just showing Grace your new Bowling.” Summer gestured at a modernist landscape on the wall—was there a tremble in her hand?—then hopped to her feet. “She’s super into oils.”

“Do you paint, Grace? I didn’t know that.”

“Uh. A little?” Grace prayed that he wouldn’t ask her a single question about color-mixing or brushstrokes. She had no idea what turpentine did. She hadn’t painted since elementary school. “Not well.”

Summer stood from the desk and took a paper out of her backpack. “At the end-of-the-year ceremony today, I got the award for best in the debate class.

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