The Lies About Truth by Courtney C. Stevens

Author:Courtney C. Stevens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Friday morning, the sun climbed high in the sky, and I didn’t dare argue with its pleasant attitude. Better sun than rain for Pirates and Paintball.

I toweled off after a long shower, knowing I wouldn’t get another one until late Sunday night. As I packed, I imagined Trent tapping on my window with his pirate sword and asking if I thought this was the year he’d win. This would be the first Pirates and Paintball without him.

I whispered at his memory. “Sorry, friend. This isn’t the year.”

My phone buzzed.

Max: I might need some help with my pirate costume.

Me: Okay.

Max: You ready?

Me: I hope.

Max: See you soon.

I took some extra time to assemble my pirate costume and waited for five p.m., when all four families would descend on the McCalls’s house. Mom watched for the Adlers and Garrisons through the living room window and clicked off the living room light when they arrived.

Five on the dot.

“All right, Sadie baby. Get your game face on,” she told me.

I traced the scar up from my mouth. “Do I look tough?”

“You take everything too literally.”

“You take everything too seriously,” I said, shouldering my bags.

“You have what you need?”

I nodded, but she went through the checklist anyway. “Paintball gun? Sleeping bag? Pillow? Toothbrush?”

“Mom, I’m not a kid.”

She continued. “Book? Pirate costume? Cards? Big?”

I nodded yes to everything except Big and kept nodding as she listed the contents of my entire bag.

“Hey, have you gotten any more of those envelopes in the mail?” she asked.

I said no, but I found it curious that she said Big’s name and then jumped straight to the envelopes.

“Hmm. What a mystery.”

“I told you. It’s just a little joke someone’s playing on me. Tell Dad to come on.”

“As long as you’re laughing. It certainly didn’t start out that way,” she reminded me. “Tony”—her voice echoed through our house—“come on. It’s time.”

Now, if I’d called my dad like that, she would have corrected me for yelling. I mentioned that and she popped me with a towel.

“About this weekend,” she began. She held out two fingers and made the I’m watching you sign.

For sport, I made the motion back and held up my paintball gun. “I’m armed. Don’t mess with me.”

“No paintball in the house.”

Like I’d shoot her right here in the living room.

Dad arrived, shouldered my bags, and said, “Is that some spunk I just heard?”

I pointed the gun at him.

He popped the top of my hat. “I like it, kiddo. Keep it coming.”

They exchanged one of those looks I wasn’t supposed to see.

“Wreck didn’t make me blind, guys,” I reminded them as we walked out the door.

They didn’t respond, which was probably good for me.

Outside, at the dock, I witnessed the reunion of Gray Garrison and Max McCall. Made even more complicated by my appearance.

Here goes. I walked over to Max.

Max offered me his hand, offered me the choice to show my allegiance. I put my hand in his.

Gray’s jaw worked double-time, and he took a deliberate step away from the group.

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