Page 39 of Little Lies

“One more thing.” Nathan didn’t even give her enough time to properly process the request.

“Great,” Tully sighed.

“There’s a basketball game tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms. “So?”

“Come to the game. It can be our first big display as a couple.”

“I’m not going to a basketball game just to be your personal cheerleader.”

Nathan crossed his arms, mirroring her, and turned, ready to face off. “I have plenty of cheerleaders already. I don’t need that. This would be foryoursister to see.”

“I think you should do it,” Stephanie chewed on a fry, enjoying their conversation like she was commentating on a movie scene.

“Whose side are you on?” Tully spun towards her best friend, betrayed.

“Everything he’s offering benefits you just as much as him. Which is pretty generous considering you alreadygavehim everything he needs to pass his classes. He could back out now and still use your notes—ow!” Stephanie yelped, dropped her fry, and grabbed her shin. She stared accusingly at Tully with narrowed eyes. “Did you just kick me?”

“You’re giving him ideas,” Tully hissed.

“I’mhelping. Joliet will be there watching. Maybe even Erik too. Not to mention pretty much the entire school.”

Damn Stephanie. Damn them both for making sense. Damn herself for not being better at this stuff. Even if she didn’t like being in front of people like this, she had agreed to this charade. She knew what being in a fake relationship with Nathan Rondeau would mean. “Fine. But if you suck, I’m not cheering.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Nathan relaxed, satisfied and confident. “I’ll drive you to school tomorrow. We should arrive together every now and then.”

“I can’t. I’m driving Stephanie.”

“I can pick you up too, Stephanie, if you’d like.”

“You run a tough bargain, Rondeau. Count us both in.”

Tully slumped forward and sighed. So this is how it was going to be, her best friend and fake boyfriend teaming up against her. Orforher, in some strange way.

Fine. Basketball game it was, homecoming it was. She sighed and popped a tater tot into her mouth, accepting her fate. Who knew a fake relationship would be so much work?

* * *

There was a letter in the mailbox addressed to Tully—sent all the way from an apartment building in New York City.

Thank God. She desperately needed something to brighten her day and her brother’s name scribbled messily in the top left corner always made even the most annoying of days more bearable.

She rushed inside, holding his letter tightly in one hand, and a stack of bills for her parents in the other. Luckily, she was the only one home. Joliet was still at cheer practice, and her parents were probably working.

She savored the times she got to be there alone because she preferred the silence of vacancy over the silence of occupancy. A letter from Eugene was a bonus.

Tully took a small detour to the kitchen to drop the bills on the counter before hastily hopping up the stairs and closing herself in her bedroom. Her heavy book bag thumped on the floor as she dropped it, walked to her desk, and ripped open the letter.

His handwriting was an awkward cursive running down the page, sometimes difficult to read in certain parts, but she managed fine after two years of practice since he’d left for college in the big city.

My Dearest Tulsa,

She rolled her eyes. His letters always read like a father who had gone off to fight in a war instead of a brother who was studying English at NYU. But he had such a way with words. He was the only person who would say her first name without her recoiling at its sound, and the only person who could use it teasingly with a genuine brotherly love.

This semester has taken a great toll on me, and I struggle to get even the easiest of compositions in. But, as is my duty, I manage. However, dearest sister, this letter was written to you on the eve of my biggest exam thus far, and you still hold priority on my list.

“What an idiot,” she mumbled, affectionately shaking her head. He knew how much she hated when he wrote to her like this, which is why he continued to do it. Maybe he could also tell how much she enjoyed it.

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