All the Pretty Lies Page 13
I waver. If we were really dating, would this be something I would do? Or do I feel like I have to because this is all fake and I’m trying to overcompensate?
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.” Callum draws my gaze back to him. “What do you say, P?
“Okay,” I cave, not seeing a graceful way to decline.
“Awesome.” He rocks back on his heels. “I’m all set, so whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I announce, having packed everything earlier this morning.
“Okay, cool.” He steps up when I reach for my suitcase, taking it out of my hand. “I got this. Say your goodbyes and I’ll meet you at the Jeep.” He nods to the girls before turning and exiting the cabin, leaving the door wide open behind him.
“Well, guess I’ll see you ladies on Monday.”
“You two have fun,” Camila taunts. “And don’t stop off and have a quickie in the back of his Jeep. Trust me, it’s never as fun as it seems.”
“I think we’ll be good.” I laugh at my friend, giving both her and April a quick hug before heading outside.
I find Callum a couple minutes later, leaning against his black Wrangler, looking so sexy with his muscular arms crossed over his chest that I pause for a brief moment to look at him.
It doesn’t take long for him to spot me, and when his sunglass covered eyes swing my way, it’s pretty clear by the smirk on his face that he knows exactly what I was doing... Checking him out.
I’m sure he’s used to girls fawning over him all the time. I’ve seen it happen more times than I’d like to admit over the years. For the longest time I would roll my eyes and sigh, adding another check mark to the list of brainless dim bats that couldn’t see what an asshole player he was. And now here I am, one of those stupid girls.
How quickly things can shift.
“You ready?” he asks as I approach, tugging open the passenger door for me.
“Yep.” I hop in, latching my seatbelt seconds after Callum shuts the door behind me.
He walks around the front of the Jeep and slides in behind the wheel, buckling his own seatbelt before firing the engine to life.
“You okay?” he asks as he pulls out onto the road, his eyes trained forward.
“Yeah, I’m just worried about my car. Cam isn’t the best driver in the world.”
“That’s what insurance is for.” He grins.
“I guess.”
“I thought it might be good for us to talk. You know, away from all the prying eyes and listening ears.”
“Is that right?”
“If we’re going to keep this up for a few more weeks, I think there are some things we need to know about each other. Things normal couples would know.”
“I’m not following.” I don’t try to mask my confusion with where he’s going with this.
“Past relationships. Favorite foods. Things like that. We need our stories straight if we want this to be believable. Like you said last night, doing it here was one thing. Everyone was wrapped up in their own shit or too drunk to really care. But going back to school, it’s not just a majority of the senior class we have to fool. It’s everyone.”
“Right.” Suddenly, I feel even more nervous than I did moments ago.
“So, tell me, P.”
“Tell you what?”
“Past relationships.”
“Well that’s easy. There aren’t any.”
“That’s bullshit. You went to Junior Prom with Kyle Parker, did you not?”
“Yeah, prom. That was the extent of it.”
“So you didn’t hook up afterward?” He throws me a sideways glance.
“You already know we didn’t.”
“How would I know that?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t overhear the conversation I had with my mom right before we came on this trip. I know you did. If you falling in the pool didn’t give it away, you darting inside right after sure did.”
He falls silent for a long moment.
“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
“I know.” I blow out a breath.
“So you’ve really never slept with anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Any reason why?”
“I don’t know.” I fidget with my seatbelt. “I guess I haven’t met the right person.”
“P, this is high school. Everyone is fucking everyone. It wouldn’t be that hard for you to find someone if you wanted to.”
“I want more than that. Sure, I could go out and hook up with some rando, but how badly would I hate myself for it later? Besides, when you grow up with a mom like mine, the last thing you want to do is risk turning out just like her.”
“I guess I get that. It’s gotta be tough raising a kid while you’re still in high school.”
“And she’s never let me forget it,” I grumble. “What about you? What crazy sexcapades do you have to fill me in on?” I ask, eager to take the focus off of me.
“There’s not enough time in the world for that.” He chuckles.
“We have three hours.”
He throws me a sideways glance, one brow arched, like I should know better.
“Oh my god. There’s that many?” I gape at him.
“What can I say, P? I’m a guy.” He shrugs unapologetically.
“Do you even remember all their names?”
“Honestly?” He snorts. “Probably not.”
“Wow.” I shake my head. “I mean, I knew you got around... But wow.”
“Sex is sex, P. It doesn’t have to be a life changing thing. Sometimes it’s just nice to relieve some tension. Blow off some steam.”
“Not everyone views it so casually.” I cross my arms in front of myself, my gaze going out the window. “Have you ever been in love?”
His hands tense around the steering wheel. “No.”
“Never?” I look back toward him.
“Next question.”
“Oh come on. You said we need to get to know each other better. Tell me.”
“It was a long time ago and truthfully, I’m not really sure what I felt. Let’s leave it at that.”
Even though I want to push, the look on his face tells me I’m not getting any more than what he’s just given me.
“What about Annika? Did you care for her?”
“Eh.” He lifts one shoulder. “Not at first. But after a while, I don’t know, it kind of felt nice. Having someone.”
“You’ve had a lot of someones as I recall. What is your max time limit anyway?”
“What?” He chuckles.
“You don’t date anyone for more than a few weeks. Like ever. I think Annika was your longest relationship and that lasted what, two months, two and a half?”
“Fair enough.”
“So what, you just get bored?”
“Something like that.”
“Seriously, Callum, tell me. Why don’t you keep girlfriends for longer than a few weeks?”
“I guess I just haven’t found anyone I could tolerate for longer than that.”
“Or anyone that could tolerate you,” I fire back playfully.
“Don’t be mistaken, it’s always me that ends it.”
“Oh, I know. Because what girl would be stupid enough to break things off with the Callum Hanson.”
“And don’t you forget it.” He narrows his gaze at me.
“Whatever.” I huff. “Boys are dumb.”
“How do you know all this anyway?” he asks, ignoring my comment.
“Know what?”
“So much about my dating life?”
“We’ve lived next door to each other almost our whole lives. I have eyes. And ears.”
“Uh huh.” He glances at me with a doubtful expression.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”
“Maybe.” His lips tip up in a half smile. “Or maybe you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“Please,” I sputter. “Why the hell would I do that?”
<
br /> “I don’t know, P. You tell me.”
“If you’re trying to insinuate what I think you are, you’re way off base. I honestly couldn’t care less who you date, or fuck, or whatever it is that you do.”
“Damn, there you go again. You really know how to knock a guy down a few pegs.”
“Good, because you need to be knocked down,” I counter, both of our laughter filling the Jeep seconds later.
“I’ve missed this.” He reaches across the console and takes my hand.
“Um, what are you doing?”
“Holding your hand,” he says like it should be obvious.
“Yeah, but why?” I gesture around the empty Jeep.
“Maybe because I want to.” He pauses. “Besides, it’s good to be in the habit.”
“Uh huh.” I look down at our adjoined hands and even though I know I should break the contact, I can’t make myself pull away. I fall silent for a moment before finally remembering what he said before he took my hand. “What do you mean, you’ve missed this?” I ask.
“I don’t know. This.” He looks my way for a brief moment. “You. Us. We were friends for so many years, you know.”
“Oh, I remember. I also remember how quickly you cut me out of your life too.”
“I already told you, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then how was it?” I push.
“How about this. One day, when I’m ready, I’ll explain it to you.”
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” I mutter under my breath.
“You don’t hold anything back, do you?” At first I think he’s mad, but then a wide smile breaks out across his face.
I train my eyes there. On the fullness of his lips. On the cut of his jaw. On the stubble that runs down his neck. I don’t even realize I’m staring until Callum clears his throat, snapping me out of my fog.
“Everything okay, P?” He gives me a knowing look.
“Yep.” I readjust in my seat, crossing my ankles.
“Now, can I ask you a question?” He flips on the turn signal, slowing the Jeep as he makes a right turn and veers onto the freeway.
“I guess.”
“Why Ethan?”
“What?”
“Why Ethan? I mean, you could have anybody. Why him?”
“One, I can’t have anyone. If I could, I wouldn’t have to pretend to be in a relationship with you. Two, I don’t know. I just like him.”
“What do you like about him?”
“What do you want, a list?”
“Sure.” He grins.
“Well,” I pause, unable to come up with one thing that really seems true anymore. I push past what I know that means and come up with something to say. “He’s cute and nice. He makes me laugh. He has a nice smile.”
“A nice smile? That’s the best you can do?”
“What?” I pull my hand out of his and smack his arm. “He does have a nice smile.”
“That’s fine and all, but if that’s the best you can come up with, maybe you’re not as into him as you claim to be.”
“Oh whatever. Like you know anything.” I roll my eyes, trying to deter the conversation.
“Okay, P. Okay.” With his tone you’d think he knows something I don’t, which for some reason makes me uneasy as hell.
Callum taps a button on the steering wheel and music suddenly filters through the air.
Welp, guess that means we’re done with twenty questions.
I relax back in my seat, my gaze once again going back out the window.
This is going to be a long drive...
“WHY DID I JUST SEE you get out of Callum Hanson’s Jeep? Where’s your car?” I jump at the sound of my mother’s voice as I enter the house, turning to close the door behind me.
“You’re home.” I don’t try to hide my surprise over this fact. Although, given the black cocktail dress she’s wearing, I’m guessing she won’t be here for long. Big shocker there.
“Of course I am,” she snips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
I have to bite my tongue in order to keep myself from saying what I really want to.
“Callum drove me home,” I say instead. “Camila and April drove my car.”
“Why?”
“Because Callum asked me to ride home with him.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to let your friends take your car?”
“It’s my car, Mom.” I dare her to say something. My car is the one thing she has no claim to. My dad made sure of that. It’s in my name and he pays the insurance.
“I didn’t realize you two were friends again.”
“We’re not. Well, not really.”
“Uh huh.” She eyes me curiously. I can tell she wants to say more but she doesn’t.
“So how was your trip?”
“It was good.”
“Just good?”
“Yeah.” I roll my suitcase further into the foyer, stopping at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the second floor.
My mom’s eyes follow me the entire way.
I have to say, I didn’t miss this. Her. The way she pretends to be interested when really she could give two shits about how my trip was. It’s all for show. She has to at least pretend to care sometimes. Not that it does her any good. I can read the disinterest all over her face.
“Did you behave yourself?” I stop mid-step and turn back to face my mom.
It’s strange how much we look alike. Same hazel eyes. Same dark hair. Same small, button nose. Average height. Average build. I swear I’m the spitting image of her. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been mistaken for sisters. She is, after all, only seventeen years older than me. And given the way she dresses, she presents herself far younger than she is. It used to irritate me. Now, I ignore it.
“If you’re asking if I hooked up with anyone, the answer is no,” I say flatly, knowing that’s exactly what she wants to know.
“Well that’s...” She pauses. “Very responsible of you.”
“Yeah,” I grumble, ready to go upstairs already.
After nearly two hours of silence in the car next to Callum, and now having to deal with my mother, I feel beyond irritated.
I don’t know why he asked me to ride with him to basically ignore me two-thirds of the ride. Then again, I can’t say that was entirely his fault. It’s not like I was that eager to talk the whole way back.
It’s one thing when we’re in front of everyone, pretending. But when we’re alone, that’s when things get awkward. Mainly because I don’t know how to act. It’s confusing, to say the least.
“Well, I’m getting ready to head out for the evening. You can order pizza, or whatever.”
“Yep. I know the drill.” I rock back on my heels.
“And for the love of god, take a shower. Your hair looks like a bird’s nest.” She gestures to the messy bun on top of my head.
“Wow, thanks, Mom.” I roll my eyes.
“I’m just saying.” She shrugs, grabbing her clutch purse off the small table next to the door. “Have a good night, sweetie,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice sickly sweet as she tugs open the door and steps out onto the front porch.
“Yeah, you too,” I grumble under my breath, waiting until the door closes before turning and lugging my suitcase up the stairs.
It’s good to be home, I think sarcastically.
I make quick work of unpacking my suitcase, tossing my dirty clothes into a laundry basket, including the outfit I wore home, before dragging it across the hall to where the washer and dryer are located. I throw everything into the same load, too lazy to separate colors, and then turn the machine on, setting the now empty basket on top.
Heading back to my room in nothing but my underwear, I rummage through my drawers for some clean pajamas. The blinds in my bedroom are open but drawn far enough down that I know no one can see inside.
Settling on a plaid pair of shorts and tank, I drape them over my shoulder before heading to the jac
k and jill bathroom that connects my room with the guest bedroom. Not that anyone ever stays in there. When I was younger, I tried to convince my mom to let me have both bedrooms but clearly that never happened.
I’ve just leaned over to turn the water on when my cell phone pings in my room. Flipping the shower on, I go check my phone while the water warms up.
Snagging it off my bed, I’m confused when I see Callum’s name on the screen. Knowing I didn’t put his number in my phone, I’m curious how it got there.
Callum: Just saw your mom leave. Want some company?
I laugh in spite of myself.
Me: I think I’m good. Thanks for asking.
His response is almost instant.
Callum: Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me.
Me: Not likely. How did your number get into my phone?
Callum: I put it there.
Me: Yeah, I got that. But when?
Callum: Does it matter?
I think about that for a moment, realizing it really doesn’t.
Another text message comes through.
Callum: What are you doing?
He barely spoke to me the last two hours of our drive and now he wants to talk?
Me: Getting ready to take a shower.
Callum: Need someone to wash your back?
I shake my head, not able to stop a smile from sliding across my lips.
Me: I think I’ll manage.
Callum: You sure? I am your boyfriend now.
Me: You’re not my real boyfriend. Which is why I’ll be washing my own back.
Callum: You’re no fun, P.
Me: Never said I was.
I hit send and wait for him to text me back. I ignore the pang of disappointment I feel when several long moments pass and he still hasn’t.
Letting out a loud sigh, I toss my phone back onto the bed before heading back into the bathroom, stepping under the hot shower stream less than a minute later.
As I wash my hair, my mind drifts to this past week. Callum. The way it felt when he held my hand. The way his lips felt pressed to mine. The way it felt to wake up in his arms. I try so hard to push it out of my mind, to remind myself why we’re doing this in the first place, but suddenly the reasons why aren’t that important.
When I first agreed, I never in a million years dreamed that it would be like this. That it would feel like this.