Page 48 of The Lies I've Told
“What?” she asked.
“We can never share a bag of candy again,” I said, straight-faced.
She suddenly looked concerned. “Why?”
“Because you’ll eat the whole bag before I even get through two.”
She burst out laughing as I handed her several more, loving the sound as it filled the small space around us.
“Do you want to play Twenty Questions?” she asked, making my head nearly spin, the déjà vu hitting me hard in the gut.
“Do you want to play Twenty Questions?” Millie asked as she poured another round of whiskey.
“All right,” I said. “Pick an object.”
“What? That’s not how you play Twenty Questions!” Her voice sort of boomed throughout the small suite we’d shut ourselves in, and her eyes immediately widened as she realized just how loud she’d become. “Oops,” she whispered.
“It is, too!” I said. “You pick an object or person, and then in twenty questions or less, the other person tries to guess what it is.”
She looked rather unimpressed. “Oh, well, I don’t want to play that,” she said. “I just wanted to ask you twenty random questions. What’s that game called?”
“Uh, a conversation?”
“Yeah! Let’s play that!”
I tried not to look over at her, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Uh, sure. Do you want to go first?” I asked, unsure if sober Millie did in fact know how to play the real game or if she was just as clueless as drunk Millie.
“Okay, sure,” she replied. “Is the chocolate in England really as good as everyone says it is?”
I let out an amused sigh.Yep, just as clueless.
“Yes, these M&M’s taste like horseshit compared to our milk chocolate. And that’s coming from a guy who doesn’t even like candy that much.”
She rolled her eyes, but I could see a smile peeking out the corner of her pouty pink lips. “Asshole,” she muttered. “Okay, you’re next.”
I thought back to the first time we’d played this game, remembering everything we’d shared. One of these days, I’d have to teach her the proper way to play this game, but for now…
“What made you go into fashion?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if it’d change without the truth goggles alcohol provided.
“I don’t know really. I guess I always loved design and the creative process,” she answered with a bit of a shrug.
I stared into her eyes, recalling her completely different answer only days earlier…
“I know it sounds cliché, but growing up here, I didn’t have a lot of options for clothes. There was only one store, Beachcombers. I would go there and pick out a dress or a skirt and then take it home and alter it. I even created my own homecoming dress one year, and I don’t know, I guess it just stuck. But here I am, ten years later, still doing other people’s designs while mine collect dust.”
Now, the question was,Who was she lying to? Me or herself?
“My turn again!” she announced, bringing me back to the present. “How’d you get into stone carving?”
I let out a long breath before answering, “Pass.”
“What? You can’t pass!”
“Sure I can. I just did.”
“That’s not fair,” she said. “How are we supposed to get to know each other if we can choose to pass on half the —”
