Page 42 of The Roommate Lie

I wish I had a way to pause time. To go from house to house and make all those scandal sheets disappear, so I could still be in the running to take my mom’s place at Ponderosa Elementary. Alice is probably going to wish I could make all this disappear too. Out of everything the Victorian said, I’m not sure what she’ll hate most. If Alice is going to panic because that paper makes it sound like she’s living with a creep, or if she’ll be more hurt about the writing stuff.

That’s a real sore spot for Carrots these days: her unfinished book. I could see it in her eyes last night. One friendly question about how things were going devastated her. There’s no way I want to see Alice look that hurt again. Not on my watch.

She can’t find out about this scandal sheet.

Suddenly, a dish towel on the counter doesn’t seem like the best hiding place. Alice pads into the kitchen with Cookie on her heels, and I stash that towel full of lies on top of the fridge. Banishing it once and for all.

Alice doesn’t notice. She gives me a shy smile as she joins me, and I feel that smile all the way down to my toes. “Good morning, Roscoe.”

She doesn’t even try to call me Blythe, and it’s the worst thing about this entire awful morning. My chest squeezes, but I force a casual grin. “Morning, Kilpatrick.”

That’s not what I say in my head. My brain yellsCarrotsa dozen times, and I take a giant swig of orange juice to keep that nickname from spilling out. Then I glance away and try to ignore her, pretend it’s business as usual in my small, quiet kitchen.

It doesn’t work.

My gaze pulls back toward Alice. Because my eyes are traitors.

She looks perfect today, even this early in the morning. Her copper-red hair is in two loose braids like it was the day we met, and she’s wearing a white cropped t-shirt and light blue shorts. The kind of casual outfit she probably didn’t think twice about, but that I’m going to think about too much.

The top reveals the barest sliver of her waist, a few inches of exposed skin all the way around, and I glance away again. Focusing on my half-made breakfast like my life depends on it. As if this really is the most important meal of the day.

“Big plans?” I ask. Still studying my toast.

“Nope. Just writing.”

Somehow, she already sounds defeated, as if Alice knows her writing session isn’t going to go well. Her eyes are a little tired too. She looks like she barely slept last night, and I can’t help wondering what might’ve kept her awake. What had her outside in my yard so late in the first place.

Was it a book problem…or a Jason problem?

I let that last possibility torture me a little—does she miss him as much as he seems to miss her?A heavy feeling crowds my chest, but I don’t ignore it right away. I let it hurt first. So I can remind myself it’s guys like Jason who wind up with girls like Alice—not me.

After I let that feeling go, I recommit to what really matters: my toast. These two slices of crispy bread aren’t going to stare at themselves.

As I study my food, Alice gets out the butter for me. And a knife. And strawberry jam. Setting them by my plate one by one like she’s afraid I’ve forgotten how toast works. Probably because I won’t stop staring at it.

I pull myself together in the nick of time. Alice glances away to scratch Lydia’s dachshund behind his ears, and I’m the first one who notices the Sharp twins outside. Standing in my yard with reusable grocery bags slung over their shoulders. At the crack of dawn.

I have no idea what they’re doing. I knew Tyler was awake—he’s the one who left the Victorian’s newest delivery by my air mattress in our room, so I’d see it when I woke up. But I figured he left for work afterward. And I thought Lydia was asleep.

Now they’re outside. Dumping grocery bags full of paper into my recycling bin, all of it folded the exact same way. Those papers identical in size and shape and?—

Wait.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear those were copies ofDispatch From the Hedgerow. That the same scandal sheet I found waiting by my phone when I woke up is now being dumped into my recycling bin in droves.

“What are they doing out there?”

Alice is so close behind me, I jump. Then I shiver, her breath teasing the side of my neck as she tries to peer over my shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of the Sharp twins through my kitchen window.

And those scandal sheets.

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHARLIE

“Who? What? Nothing—I don’t see anything.”

I spin toward Alice to block her view, and no man has ever sounded more guilty. She raises her eyebrows in protest, ready to call me out. But then we both realize how close we’re standing, and her breath hitches.

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