Page 9 of Spiteful Lies

Astrid pauses and struggles with her words. “But you were nice, Charlotte.” When she finally looks over, I meet her gaze. We both know that’s bullshit.

“No, I wasn’t, Astrid. I was nice on the outside but ice on the inside, as people say. I did and said some petty things because I wasn’t sure how I felt about you. Part of me was intrigued to have a sister until my sister overshadowed me. I thought you would need me more, and I’d show you off like a pet in a purse or something. I thought you’d have to depend on me, but when you proved you didn’t need me…” I pause, thinking about the manipulative things I did. “There were times I could’ve done a lot more for you.”

Astrid scoffs. “You kept the bullies off my back. You lent me clothes, and you let me have…”

Astrid stops talking and quickly breaks our gaze, but I finish the thought. “Bryce wasn’t mine to keep. I told you that. He’s not the type of guy a woman controls. And if we had married, it would’ve been a constant struggle to stay together. Besides, he’s more a brother than a boyfriend.”

“I couldn’t tell,” she grumbles. “I felt guilty, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be with him. And then I’d walk in and see Bryce in your bed.”

I laugh, but not cruelly. “You looked so pissed, but we weren’t doing anything. Bryce feels comfortable around me and lets his guard down. He lets it down so low that he nods off. Stonehaven is draining, not just for you but for all of us.”

***

Astrid smiles, pleased with what I’ve said, and we sit with our thoughts for a moment. It’s a hard conversation, and I’m glad my tear ducts are dried out, or I’d be bawling through it. But I have one more thing I need to do before the moment is gone.

“I have to apologize, Astrid, for how I treated you. I’m truly sorry, and I have to let you know that. I understand a little too closely what you went through. I should’ve done better when we thought we were sisters. I really am sorry.”

Astrid hears me but says nothing as she picks at her nails. It’s okay if she doesn’t accept my apology. I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with saying it, and she deserved to hear it.

“I’ve changed,” she says suddenly, “The old me would have thrown your apology back in your face because of the timing. But I know you’re sincere, so I want to forgive you.” She meets my gaze again. “Watching you taught me a few things, Charlotte. Acting the way I did at Monarch didn’t work here. You taught me that I don’t need to use my fists to have power.”

I grin with relief, knowing she doesn’t hate me. “So, since I’ve not been much of a sister, maybe I can be a better friend? How have you been holding up?”

Astrid shakes her head. “Not too good. Sometimes I have nightmares, and I see his face hovering over me.”

I not sure who she’s talking about but it must be dad—no, Elliot Howland. The man deserves what he gets, so he can’t ruin any more lives. I stand up and sit on the desk beside Astrid wrapping an arm around her shoulders. At first, she stiffens, but I pull her in close.

“When I have bad dreams,” I tell her, “I fight back in my dreams. I don’t let the dreams do whatever they want with me. There’s a little part of me that knows I’m dreaming, and I’m not a passive player. So, the next time he shows up in your dream, kick his saggy ass. You tell him off as you kick him clear across the room. You tell him he’s gross, and here’s a lesson.” I kick out my leg as if I’m kicking Ted Leister’s ass. “Drop-kick and boom.”

Laughing, Astrid slides off the desk and steps into the middle of the room. “That’s not how you kick, Charlotte.” In a graceful arc, her leg shoots up in the air as she clenches her fists. “That’s a kick.”

I jump off the desk. “Okay, so watch this.” I imitate her kick as best I can, but I look more like a Rockette and less like an MMA.

Astrid laughs again, and that sad expression is nowhere near her face. “You have to pretend you’re kicking them in the face, Charlotte.” She points to a spot in the air. “And push your foot through their face.” She does it again and shouts, “Boom!”

“Like this?” I don’t tell her that I’m pretending it’s Howland I’m kicking, and I do it again, keeping my balance.

“Much better.” She pats me on the back. “One more time, with feeling.” Laughing, we line up and kick again.

“Enough,” I fan myself, catching my breath. “I’m not athletic like you.”

Astrid tilts her head as she looks at me thoughtfully. “Charlotte, I don’t give a shit about what that piece of paper said. You’ll always be my sister.”

I smile, tearing up but not caring if tears fall. I’m safe with her. “Same here. And Astrid, thank you. I was afraid of being alone.”

Chapter 8

Astrid

Mr. Shapley stands in the front of the class, giving us an evil look like the devil surveying hell. His eyes darken as he walks to the first row and slams down the blank midterm on the first desk. “Take one and pass it back,” he growls. Someone in the back has the balls to giggle, and Shapley’s eyes scan the room as if he’s ready to pounce on some raw meat. He continues to stare at each one of us until the room is still and noiseless. Thankfully, no one is an asshole and makes a rude noise when Shapley turns his back to the class.

The midterm sits face down on my desk, and I tap the paper’s smooth surface with my finger, anxious to turn it over. I stare at the blank back page as if the writing on the other side is visible. I memorized every answer on the flash drive for all my midterms. The only thing I need is for the questions to match the ones I studied.

“Begin,” Shapley announces as he sits down in his chair, watching us the whole time.

I flip it over and smile like I just won every state lottery from here to California. I know the answers cold, but I also know the reason why. I’m not writing by rote. I’m able to riff and add to my answers. I smile to myself, proud that I could have passed without cheating, but I can’t afford to take the chance. I can still see the pissy look on Rawlins’ face that day, and though she didn’t say the words aloud, I heard them loud and clear in my head.

Don’t fuck up. I’m watching you.

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