Page 69 of The Lies We Steal

It seemed to be a break from the luxury. Bringing everyone together in a humble establishment that was serving everything from funnel cakes to fish and chips.

We were a week and a half into October, and the leaves were fully turned. Except for the pines. They kept their dark, green coat year-round it seemed.

Since the last encounter with Satan’s spawn in the pool, we’d yet to hear from them. We saw them on campus briefly, but the pranks, the letters, they had all stopped around the first of the month.

I could still feel Alistair’s presence occasionally, watching, hovering, but it wasn’t like it was before. Either they were planning something like our grandiose kidnapping and slaughtering, or they believed their torments had secured our silence.

Part of us wanted to forget everything we saw. I wanted off their radar and away from their gazes. Even if that meant staying quiet. I wanted to focus on school and act as if that night never happened and it seemed Lyra was doing that much better than I was.

The other part of me felt like I would combust. To hold onto a secret like that for the rest of my life. I was sure it would eat me alive, but after the pool I promised myself I would graduate from here, have the means to protect myself and I would tell someone.

I would tell them everything I saw and hope justice would be served but I couldn’t do that now. I would just be the broke girl from nowhere Texas who was accusing the most important sons of Ponderosa Springs of murder.

No matter how many scenarios I ran through, that never ended well for me.

The promise I’d made had settled my anxiety some. Enough that my appetite had come back. Which was good for me because Thomas was beginning to worry about how frail I was becoming.

“Easton Sinclair asked me about you in class today.” Lyra announces, leaning her back against the glass window, her feet outstretched in front of her across the booth. “He hasn’t spoke to me since we were in kindergarten, and he asked to borrow my yellow crayon.”

I pop an eyebrow, “Why was he asking about me?”

Since accidentally going Jackie Chan on his ass, I’d only seen him in class and once in the library where we went over answers on a study guide together. I didn’t think I had done anything that would warrant him asking Lyra about me.

“He wanted your phone number,” She giggles, “Someone’s got a crush on youuuu.” She sings in a soft voice, wiggling her pointer finger at me.

I swat it away, rolling my eyes with a soft chuckle, “He probably just needed answers to homework or something, did you tell him to bug off and worry about his girlfriend?”

She shakes her head, “Nah, I told him if you wanted to give it to him, you would have.”

I loved her even more for that.

“Plus he doesn’t seem like your type anyway.”

“I have a type?” I ask, never really thinking about myself as the type of person with a type. I mean, minus the fact I required the guys I was interested in to be single and of legal age.

“You just don’t look like the girl who ends up with a nine to five guy. You’d get too bored.” She starts, “I think there are two types of women, those who seek comfort and those who seek love.”

I’d never heard anyone say something like that before. I mean, you could have both, right? You could have a stable relationship and be in love, it happened all the time.

“You don’t think people can have both? Aren’t you supposed to feel comfortable when you’re in love? I don’t think you can have one without the other.”

About that time our waitress comes back with our tray of food, sliding everything in front of us and asking if she can get us anything else, when we decline she leaves us to eat.

Lyra grabs the cherry off the top of her milkshake, popping it inside her mouth, “For me love shouldn’t be comfortable. Love should make youuncomfortable,it should challenge you, it should push your limits, make you grow as person and all of those things you have to be out of your comfort zone to do. So I don’t think you can have both, no.”

I love listening to her talk. I love hearing how she feels about life, love, philosophy even when we have a full-on debate on a Criminal Minds episode. Everything she says is like it’s been brewing in her brain for years. You wouldn’t assume it when you first see her, because she is shy, but Lyra is funny. She is quick with sarcastic comebacks, and it makes me sad that I’m the only person at the school who knows that.

Everyone who passed up the opportunity to be her friend was severely missing out.

I grab a fry dipping it in ketchup, “So you’re the girl who wants love, right? An adventurous guy who helps you dig up worms and knows how to get dirty?” I roll my eyebrows teasingly, shoving the salty fried potato into my mouth and chewing.

A ghost of a smile passes her features, just as she snorts like she’s thinking about a certain boy or maybe a girl, I’d never asked her about her sexual orientation.

“Something like that, who knows.”

I pick up my burger, the melty cheese oozing from the side and the pieces of bacon peeking out from under the bun. My mouth was watering by the time I carried it towards my mouth, taking the largest bite of food in my life.

“Lyra Abbott! Is that you sweet girl?”

---