Page 41 of Reckless Liar

I pulled away, wiping the tears off my face. “Thanks for saying all that. But it’s okay, you don’t have to lie.”

He kept his arm on me but let me straighten up. “I’m not lying. I don’t think you’re some little kid, Ana. I see you.”

I stared up at his face. Over the summer he’d grown much taller. He used to be around the same height as Max but now he was shooting up, lanky and awkward. A small pimple marred his babyface cheek. He needed a haircut badly; his loose blond curls hung slack in his eyes.

“You see me?” I whisper. “What do you see?”

He didn’t break eye contact with me. His eyes the same mix of colors as the water in Freedom Bay. He focused on me in a way that made my cheeks flame pink. “You’re nice, and really super smart, and pretty...”

“You think I’m pretty?” A small smile crept across my face. “No one has ever told me I’m pretty before.” Which was true. It was the first time I had heard a boy say that about me. I’d heard “cute” before, but always from adults. This was different. This was a boy—a boy my age. Pretty girls got kissed, pretty girls got boyfriends, pretty girls got dates to school dances.

He looked away, redness blooming across his face up to his ears. “Well, yeah, I mean... I guess I do.”

Without thinking I leaned forward into Xander. I pressed my lips against his, my eyes screwed up tight. He felt warm against me, his lips tasting sweet like fruity gum. He lifted his hands and then they fell to his side as if he didn’t know where to put them.

I pulled away, to study Xander. His eyes were still closed with a big smile stretched across his face.

“Sorry,” I blurted. I jumped up, dusting off my butt. It was a mistake to kiss Xander. I had always envisioned my first kiss would be so romantic, that we’d be somewhere nice, maybe slow dancing together to a pop ballad. I’d be wearing a nice dress, and he’d say all these sweet words and after the kiss we’d be boyfriend and girlfriend. But most of all, I always pictured my first kiss to be with Max.

Xander furrowed his brow at me as I finished cleaning off the back of my shorts. “But...”

“I...” I looked down the road at where Max had gone earlier, guilt pounding in my chest. “I’ll um... see you at school?”

He stared up at me as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. I wanted desperately to run off, but I needed Xander to reply first. I could see the hurt pass over his face. Xander never was good at keeping his emotions inside, at least not to me.

“Right,” he said.

I bent down to grab my backpack off the curb, avoiding his eyes. “So, I’ll see you in school, if not before, right?” I laughed again, my voice too high, all wrong.

Before Xander could say anything else I turned away, speed walking down the road and back to my house where I’d collapse on my bed and not get up until it was time for dinner that night.

I now realize that I should’ve known there was something more between Xander and I that day. My choice to lean forward to kiss him, the flutter in my stomach, the way I replayed that moment over and over in my mind. Even the way it was the first thing I thought about when Max and I finally kissed. Instead of thinking it was everything I’d been wanting, my first thought was to compare his kiss to Xander’s.

I wondered what would have happened if I’d stayed behind that day. Would Xander have asked me to be his girlfriend? Would I have ended up with Xander in the end? What kind of heartbreak could I have avoided? What kind of happiness would I have sacrificed if only I had stayed?

There was no way of knowing, then. All I could see was Max. Xander was right, there never was room for another. He filled up my vision, blurring out the rest. But now I could think back on that one moment sitting on the curb of Queenie Road, my cheeks tight from tears and Xander’s lips against mine. The thought that I never could explain away. The secret I never told Max.

So, this is what a kiss is. Will anything ever feel as good as this, right now, right here?

At the time, I didn’t want it to be Xander.

I couldn’t accept that I had control over what I did. That I could’ve chosen differently. It was so much easier to go along with what Max wanted. Max wanted me to want him, so I did. He wanted to be with me, so he had me. I allowed it to be as simple as that. Because the truth was so much more complicated.

Never did I imagine I’d have to face these truths. I’d felt something that day with Xander. Throughout our friendship there were fleeting moments where I’d catch him looking at me and instead of being bothered by it, I would smile to myself. So many things. The way I watched him too. That his hand on my wrist, his arm against mine, that his lips against the back of my neck and his body pressed against my back made me feel alive. That he gave and gave to me, and I wanted more. I wanted him too.

I couldn’t explain away this pull I had toward him. Denying how I felt about Xander was making a liar out of me.

Chapter seventeen

“I know exactly what I want.” -Ana age twenty-four.

EverynightasImade my way down the hall to my room, I would pause in front of Xander’s door, placing a hand on the flat surface. I’d picture what he would do if I opened the door and made the next move. I’d close my eyes and think of the sweet pressure of his hand on my hip, his lips against the back of my neck. I wanted him more each day. But I couldn’t bring myself to take that irrevocable step toward him. So, I’d pull my hand off his door and make my way down the hall to my own room, alone for yet another night.

In the morning I’d wake to his noises in the apartment—the shower turning on, the coffee grinder going, the opening and closing of doors. Before I could fully process where my thoughts were taking me, I’d think of what these noises would sound like if I woke in Xander’s bed instead of mine. What would he do? Would he kiss me on the head before leaving for work? Would he get dressed in the dark or turn on a light?

Xander wanted more from me than I was ready to give. Weeks went by and there were moments where we’d brush against each other in the hall, his hand gliding against mine. I’d be cooking and feel his eyes on me, burning into my skin. I used to have the sensation of him watching me before, when we were still in the duplex. Before that even, in high school. Then, when I would look over at him, Xander would look away so quickly I’d wonder if I imagined it. Now he’d hold his stare, unabashed by being caught. Every time I’d feel the same heat flowing through me, my heartbeat hammering in my chest.

While he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, there was freedom between us that I wasn’t sure I wanted. When I was in the kitchen, he’d touch my arm as he walked by. He’d grab my waist, squeezing me as he reached to get a glass from the cabinet. Before, when we would touch, one of us would pull away, the sensation being too much. Now we’d stay where we were, not moving past lingering touches, but not pulling away either.

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