Page 2 of The Lie
He pulls a cigarette from his pack with his teeth and proceeds to jam the packet back in his shorts pocket. His lighter clicks a few times before the flame catches. He lights the end, and it glows brightly as he inhales. Smoke comes from his nostrils like he’s an angry dragon.
“Yeah, he said something about you and left.” His eyes rake over me again, and I feel a shiver course through my body. Run!
“You can wait here for him; can come sit inside and wait with me.” He steps to the side and makes a gesture for me to come in. The hair on the back of my neck pricks in a warning.
I don’t want to; that’s the last place I want to be. The way he looks at me has my gut screaming. Run!
“No, thank you.” I’m polite, at least, before I jump on my bike and ride as fast as I can away from there.
The distance between Mr. Valentine and myself allows me to finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding in. I can’t leave here; I can’t leave Roman with that man. He’s not a good person.
I ride my bike toward the lake. It’s kind of in the middle of us all, that’s why we meet there so much. Plus, it’s fun to swim there on a hot day. Is he swimming? Alone? That’s a rule we have; we can’t swim there alone. Someone always needs to be there in case one of us gets into trouble. The other would call for help.
My legs are starting to burn from pedaling so much, but I need to get to him fast. When I reach the grass, I pedal until I see him, sitting on the edge of the lake, throwing rocks into the deep water.
I drop my bike about five feet behind him and he turns, his arm midair, about to throw another rock into the water. As he squints up at me through the sun’s bright rays, I can tell his cheeks are wet. He’s been crying.
Roman never cries. I’ve only seen him cry once—when his mom died—and then never again. But here he is, crying. I move swiftly to him, my knees dropping to the warm grass beside him as I take his hands in mine.
“Roman,” I let out as a breath. “Oh, Roman.” My eyes prick with tears of my own.
He pulls a hand away to swipe at the tears. His dirty-blond hair is falling in his eyes, and I reach up and brush it back.
“You need a haircut.” I smile at him, and he shakes his head. I brush it back again so I can see his whole face.
“No, I don’t want one.”
I tilt my head and give him a small smirk. “Why not?”
He always has long hair, and it’s forever getting in his eyes and hiding his beautiful face. I want everyone to see Roman and how he’s just a boy. A person. Human. Someone worthy of love.
I love him…but I’m going away. I need someone to love him while I’m gone.
“Because if I do, you won’t push it away. I like that…I like that you want to.”
My heart beats faster in my chest. I want to cry at what I’m losing here; I want my mom to know she isn’t only breaking my heart. She’s also breaking the heart of this sweet, beautiful boy with the sad blue eyes and dirty-blond hair.
He needs someone to push his hair out of his eyes for him. I don’t think he would let the guys do it. It wouldn’t be the same. It has to be me. I want it to only be me.
“I came looking for you. I want to ask you a question.” I swallow the lump in my throat as I steady myself to ask this important question.
He nods, then looks around us. For what, I don’t know.
“Would you, Roman Valentine, be my first kiss?”
His blue eyes snap back to mine, wide and full of surprise. His mouth opens slightly as he licks his lips. I smile and nod, trying to hold myself together while waiting for his answer.
“You want me to kiss you…first?”
I giggle and shove him gently in the shoulder, my nerves getting the better of me. “Of course I do, Roman. I want you to be my first kiss.”
Roman looks down at my lips then back into my eyes. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather Jace or Hunter be your first?”
I shake my head. “You don’t want to kiss me?” My belly twists in knots as I wait for his response.
He shakes his head, and I can feel his fingers tremble where our hands still touch. “No, I mean, yes. I do want to kiss you. I want my first and my last kiss to be with you, Mila.”
“I want that too.”
