Page 1 of The Lie
ONE
MILA
Ihate my mom, and there is nothing my dad can say that will ever change my mind. Even though I’m twelve, the fact that I’m moving away makes me want to throw a temper tantrum that would make a toddler proud.
“Honestly, James, the clothes you’ve given her make her look like a boy. Does she even own any dresses?” Mom lets out a huff. “Don’t bother. I will just have to get her something in New York. My daughter won’t be seen dead in any of these Walmart clothes.”
I don’t care what I wear. I like to be comfortable, but I don’t dress like a boy. Maybe if Mom were home more, or even took me shopping, she might have a say in what I wear. But Dad took me to pick out my own clothes. I do have a dress. She’s just never around to see me, so she doesn’t know any better.
“I wanna say goodbye one more time,” I whisper to Dad as I eye Mom going through my closet, throwing clothing and hangers onto my bed. Is it still my bed? If I don’t live here anymore? I don’t want to think about it. I need to see them. I need one last goodbye.
He looks down at his watch and nods. “Be back at two. Not a minute later.”
I glance back at my mom, but she hasn’t heard me, and I wouldn’t care if she did. I’m leaving with her at two. So, she doesn’t get a say in where I go with the last few hours of my life here. I have a plan, something that I’d been hoping to do for a long time. Only, Mom sped up the plans by deciding to take me away. I know what I want before I leave today.
My first kiss.
Running to my bike, I jump on and ride out to the front of my house. I look back at the blue front door and let out a deep breath. Today will be the last day I see that door. My emotions are going haywire, and I don’t want to ruin these special last moments with the boys by crying.
Jace’s house draws my attention. It looks just like mine, but his front door is green. He’s been my best friend since I was born. Choosing Jace for my first kiss would make sense to everyone who knows us…but that’s only looking from the outside. Jace won’t be my first kiss. I’ve known that for a while now.
I look down the street to the right—Hunter. With his cheeky smile and floppy curly hair. He always makes me laugh. Makes me feel so special. It would make sense to pick him as my first kiss, right? Wrong.
They’ll both kiss me back without question. I know that in my heart. And although I want that—I would hate to be rejected—I know it has to be this way. All three or none at all. And the only wild card I have is…
Roman.
I peddle the wheels of my bike as fast as I can to his trailer, my heart pounding and my stomach tied in knots. What if he doesn’t want to kiss me? What if their pact is so strong Roman won’t break it and be my first kiss?
The nerves have me almost backing out of my plan. But the fact I don’t want it to be anyone else keeps me peddling.
I love all my best friends. But in so many different ways. I usually know what Jace is thinking. How Hunter will react to most things. But Roman? He always leaves me guessing. He makes my chest ache when he’s sad and explode when he smiles at me.
My heart always beats a little bit faster for Roman’s smiles. Hunter gives me butterflies when he touches me, and Jace makes me feel safe and cared for when he snuggles me. But Roman…he’s my wild card. I never know what I’m gonna get with him. I think that’s what draws me to him most. The unpredictability.
If he says no to my first kiss, I won’t go to the others. It only counts if they’re all my first kiss. And I want my real first kiss to be with Roman. I want him to feel the same thing I do in my chest. I want his heart to explode with happiness the way I know it will for me.
I swallow before knocking on his door. Hearing stomping feet, I take a step back. I lace my fingers in front of me, hoping it’s going to be Roman and not his dad. His dad scares me; he always smells bad and smokes inside the trailer.
The trailer is always gross and dirty, but I never say anything or let my gaze linger longer than needed when I’m in there. Not that I’m in there much. Roman hates us coming to his trailer. My dad doesn’t like me coming here either. He doesn’t like Mr. Valentine.
The door flies open and makes a loud bang as it hits the side of the trailer. I jump at the sound, sucking in a gasp at the sight of Roman’s dad. The smell hits me just as fast as he scratches his chest. The stained wifebeater moves under his dirty nails, and I hold my breath.
He looks me up and down. “You’re that little girly Roman hangs around. Mia, right?” He lets out a deep, chesty cough. After making a sound in his throat, he spits just near my feet, and I start to shake. Not much scares me, but he always makes something in the pit of my stomach scream at me to run.
“Mila,” I correct him, but my voice is almost a whisper.
“Ah, Mila. Pretty name for a pretty girly.”
Run! Run!
“Is Roman here?” I ask, my feet already backing up, and I watch as he catches the movement and he cocks his head.
His mouth grows into something I assume would be a smile on a normal person, but on him, it looks evil. “The kid’s not here. He said he was taking off to the lake.”
I nodded. Roman’s at the lake. That makes sense. Or did it?
“Are you sure?”
