Page 69 of The Lies Always Told

Bee:

Can’t. Working late tonight. Sorry, boo.

Victoria:

Study hall for me. Sorry, Nells.

I miss them, and I feel like all my relationships are dwindling. I just saw Bee; we talk on the phone every day, but it’s not the same. At work, I’m fighting hard to step out of Cara’s shadow and stand on my own as more than Nellie, the genius child half the faculty taught years ago. Even my parents’ diner feels off lately. I feel like the light inside me is slowly dimming, and I hate it.

Going swimming often helps, but today, everything just seems heightened by the weight of the world, my sadness, my anxiousness, and missing Gus. I do know something that will make me feel better: wine slushies and fries. I dry my body and slide the dress back on. I walk up to the beach restaurant with the swing by the bar. They serve wine slushies and the best sweet potato fries around. A beachy view, a swing, the salty breeze, carbs, and frozen wine. Instant mood booster.

I’m trying to relax and only pay attention to my own body rather than much around me. But every man I see, I have to do a double take to make sure it’s not Gus. Every laugh I hear, I want to know if it’s his. I’m losing my mind, clearly. I’ve had this ominous feeling all day. A sixth sense, of sorts. Nothing concrete. I can’t even put my finger on it, but it’s sitting heavy in my gut.

The warm air wraps around me as I walk through the tables in the outside area. The low hum of conversations mixes with the clink of glasses as the sun slowly dips toward the horizon, casting golden and purple hues over everything. My senses are going into overdrive. Laughter rises in bursts, making me move my head from table to table, noticing the different people in conversations. The smell of food and sea salt and the golden rays of the sun are capturing my attentiontoo. It’s beautiful and happy, and I feel like a rain cloud walking around. As the sun slides lower, the sky turns pink and lavender, I sit at the bar and wait for the bartender to take my order.

I use the time it takes for him to return with my slushie and food to ponder the kids at school. Cara always says that even if you leave the school behind, it doesn’t leave you, and I couldn’t agree more. I’ve only been doing this for a few weeks, but I think about the kids from my internship to this day. Bella’s worries, Xavier’s anger, Ana’s struggles, and Cody’s sadness and home life haunt my thoughts as I sip on my slushie and eat my sweet potato fries. At least it’s them and not a certain handsome millionaire asshole who won’t leave my brain.

An hour goes by, and the sun sets completely, but I had to stay to watch the moonrise and let the wine slushie work its way out of my system. One glass won’t do anything, but I’m still hyper-aware of driving, even after just one glass. My rule of thumb is one glass of wine, thirty minutes and four glasses of water before I get behind the wheel. If I ever have more than one, I won’t drive. Period. My parents were pretty serious about that growing up, and it stuck with me.

I pay for my bill and get up, ready to walk back to my car, but I need to use the restroom before the hour drive home. I try to walk fast so I can leave faster. At this hour, a lot of people here are dressed in more proper clothes than my tiny, damp dress over a bathing suit. But instead of passing by, I freeze in place when I see the table in front of me.

There’s a couple sitting and talking. She’s laughing at something he said, and he’s shaking his head. She’s wearing a teal shirt that makes the blue in her eyes pop, and he’s wearing a collared shirt, framing his wide body. Pressure builds behind my eyes as I stare at them—at her fancy glass of wine and the water carefully placed in front of him. When he looks up and sees me, his smile falls.

Right in front of me, at a quiet corner table, looking hotter than sin, sits Gus Zabana, the blonde from the gala sitting directly across from him, smiling sexily at whatever he said. The girl notices his stare, so she turns to the side to see what’s caught his attention. She waves and says something to Gus, who tries to get up, but I take a step back instantly. I turn around, trying to speed walk out the same way I came in, but I bump into a server, who drops everything on his tray.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I say.

“It’s okay,” he replies, bending to pick up things from the ground. Nothing broken, but it’s still a mess. “I got it, I got it,” he adds when I try to help, so I stand and try to leave without making a bigger fool of myself.

“Nellie, wait,” Gus whispers, holding my arm as I try to leave. I yank away from him and walk out without saying a word.

I step outside where it’s less crowded, so when he shouts behind me, I can hear him loud and clear.

“Give me a minute, please.”

“No,” I shout back, walking faster.I’m almost out of here. I’m almost to my car.

“Let me explain,” he shouts again, but this time, it sounds further back. Good. He’s not following. Speed it up, Nellie. Speed it up.

I walk as fast as I can until I make it to my car. My phone is buzzing inside my purse, but I don’t answer. I just get in my car and drive back home. It took him what? Three weeks? Was he always dating her? Maybe not dating, but fucking her? Clearly.

I drive all the way home in a slight rage. I didn’t look at my phone once, so when I finally rinse off the salty water and slide into pjs, I have twelve missed calls from him and one text message.

DLS:

Let me explain.

Three words. Three words I don’t want. I grab my phone and immediately reply, just in case whatever the fuck her name is sees it. I’m acting like an irrational, jealous girlfriend. Two of those are news to me, and one of those, I’m clearly not.

Me:

You don’t owe me an explanation.

He tries to call, but I decline it. Nope, not talking to him.

DLS:

Stop being so fucking stubborn, Nellie, and answer the phone.

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