Page 30 of Little Lies

People constantly greeted Nathan as they walked, and he knew all their names in return. A guy said good morning, and Nathan told him he enjoyed the latest edition of The Richmond Rowdy school paper. The guy, Frank, thanked him.

Another kid, freshman-looking, shyly waved at Nathan, who then called out his name and asked him how band was going.

Tully realized, watching Nathan talk to these people, that she didn’t know Nathan Rondeau at all. Even more shocking, how wasthisthe guy that Joliet had liked so much since she was eight years old?

In Tully’s mind, Joliet’s type was a douchebag with no thoughts, just dick. Someone easy to string along as much as she needed and drop when she got bored. Nathan wasn’t like that at all. Douchebags don’t remember who lent them pencils in class a week ago.

It occurred to her for the first time that her judgment of Nathan until that moment hadn’t been based on him at all but on Joliet’s fascination with him.

Maybe Tullywasa bitch after all.

They turned the corner and the object of her resentment was already looking at them—like she knew that they would be appearing right then. Joliet wasn’t wearing her cheer uniform today, just a pink button-up tucked into a denim skirt with half of her hair tied up on her head and teased to new heights. She chewed relentlessly on a wad of gum as the rest of her groupies turned to take in the school’s newest couple.

Joliet’s stare was a blinding spotlight, and Tully nearly stopped in her tracks.

The curtain was open and Tully was now the star of the show—all eyes on her.

She had to put on the best show of her life. The problem was, Tully didn’t know the lines, or the cues or anything about being an actress. She was on stage, staring at an awaiting audience, in an uncomfortable costume, and she had no idea what to give them.

But Nathan did.

As her steps slowed, and her breathing picked up, a heavy weight settled on her shoulders and tucked her into a warm side. She tensed, unaccustomed to and uncomfortable with the sudden touch.

Tully looked slowly at the arm draped over her shoulder, then to its owner who nodded politely to Joliet. Tully didn’t have it in her to look and see her reaction.

“Relax,” Nathan muttered under his breath.

She didn’t realize her shoulders were so tense they almost reached her ears. She exhaled and let them fall back into place—his arm remained.

“What are you doing?” She chose to look at him as she mumbled it, rather than at the group watching them, waiting for her to make a mistake.

“Acting.” He finally looked down at her, as they got closer. She was able to distract herself from the touch in the kind, understanding look on Nathan’s face. “Don’t forget to smile, Tulsa.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He looked a little taken aback. “What should I call you then?”

“Just Tully,” her voice was low, and he matched the hush. To anyone more than a foot away, it would look like a quiet flirtation between young lovers, rather than the introduction-like conversation it actually was.

“Tulsa’s your name though.” There was a slight husk to his voice when he talked like this, which Tully made note of to distract her from the whispers coming up.

“Yes, but no one calls me that except for people that hate me. It would be weird if my boyfriend did.”

“How about honey? Bunny? Baby boo? Honeybun?”

Tully cringed for real, and gave him a genuinely exasperated look. “Gag me. None of the above, please. I’m just Tully, nothing more. Nothing less.”

They were passing the group now, and his arm pulled her in a little tighter, a smirk on his face as he leaned in. “Whatever you say, angel.” It was the loudest thing he’d said so far, and it was the perfect moment because she could feel the entire group take a sharp inhale at the nickname.

She’d very much like to bury her face in her hands right now.

“Stop that,” she mumbled. She had a particular distaste for that name. More than the others.

“No can do.” He was enjoying this, grinning bright. “Angel.”

The posse was behind them now, not likely to see her face as she narrowed her eyes as Nathan. Their glares burned into the back of her skull when he raised his finger and poked it into her hidden dimple.

“Smile,” he instructed.

---