Page 16 of Reckless Liar

“Do you? Time passes a little differently when you’re stuck.”

"I amnotstuck," I insisted. Xander stared at me silently, waiting me out. I looked away first. “And who cares if I am a little?”

“I care. You know I care. It’s not healthy. It’s not right.”

“Who’s to say what’s healthy, or right?” I whispered. I closed my eyes, trying to get on stable footing. With him standing so close to me, I could smell the earthy scent of his skin.

He tensed up next to me and his arm slid away. Without a thought, I grabbed his forearm with my hand, holding him closer. I looked up at him. Energy thrummed down my arm at the connection. “I miss him, is all. Don’t you ever miss him, Xan?”

“Of course. I miss him every day.” He relaxed slightly under my touch. I kept my eyes down, looking at his arm undermine. His sleeve was pushed up, revealing the white downy hairs on his arms, the smattering of freckles above his wrist. His skin was warm under my palm. “But that doesn’t mean my whole life needs to be about him. And neither should yours. Not anymore. He wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“I don’t know what he would’ve wanted,” I murmured. “I’m not sure if I really knew him.”

“He was complicated. And it’s okay to feel complicated about him.”

Our eyes locked together, the space between us seeming to be too close, and yet I leaned in closer. “Is that how you feel? Complicated?”

He looked down at me, his hazel eyes boring into mine. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

We stood there, looking at each other, the air grew thick with something between us. My skin felt tight, and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I licked my lips and his gaze flickered to my lips. I thought about my first kiss—our first kiss. How he’d tasted like bubblegum. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so he’d held them straight at his side like a soldier. I’d felt a dip in my stomach and thought,so this is what a kiss is.

Had Xander always been this comfortable standing so close to me? Why was I reacting this way to him? I’d known him forever—he was my family. He’d been my rock for the past year. That’s all it was, right? Security and familiarity. I looked away. I felt his eyes staring through me, but when I didn’t look back, he pulled his arm out from under my hand. The absence of his skin beneath mine burned my palm.

Waiting until the door closed with an audible click, I let out a deep breath. I grabbed the glass off the counter and set it in the sink to wash it. Filling the glass up to the brim, I dumped it out, filled and dumped, filled and dumped, filled halfway and scrubbed the side with a soapy sponge. I could hear Xander turn on music in his room, the bass shaking the door frames. I knew I should remind him our upstairs neighbors would complain if we had the volume too high, but I wasn’t sure I could face him. Instead, I let the music tremor up my legs as I made my way around the kitchen, wiping surfaces, once, twice, three times. My hands were shaky.

I wasn’t feeling anything more for Xander than I always did. He was my friend. He was my confidante, my support system. I needed to talk to him, to watch TV together, to cook with him, to shop together. I needed him with me. But that didn’t mean a thing.

It was much safer that way. There was no other option for us. I couldn’t handle anything else.

Chapter seven

“I crashed at Freddy's place.” -Max age twenty.

Whenaseasonalworkerhad quit last-minute before Christmas, Scarlett asked me if I could fill in at her shop for a couple of hours every few days. She told me I was doing her a favor, but everything was better when I wasn’t home. Holidays were never easy for the grieving. Everywhere I looked, I’d see something I knew Max would love. I’d see the decorations on the trees and think of how we used to watch the tree lighting downtown together. I’d hear Christmas music and think of how he’d singThe Little Drummer Boyoff-key over and over to annoy me, knowing how much I hated that song.

The Christmas before he died, Max, Eloise, Xander, Scarlett, and I sat around the duplex eating a holiday dinner and exchanging presents. When Max handed me the little silver box, I felt my heart leap into my chest. I thought he was finally proposing to me after so many years together. After all the hard days we had together, he’d finally make our union official. I fluffed my hair in case Scarlett was going to take any pictures of the big event. Slowly opening the box, I found the most gorgeous sparkling pair of garnet earrings. I fought to keep my face composed as disappointment rolled over me. I loved the earrings. They were glorious. But it wasn’t the engagement ring I hoped for. It wasn’t the symbol of love I’d dreamed of. Now, every time I walk past a jewelry store with its holiday display of gleaming gemstones and precious metals, with its promises of everlasting love and happiness, I felt the pang of disappointment from that day. I relieved the embarrassment of hoping for something that’d never come.

I wore the earrings today. I touched them now and then as I busied myself straightening up a rack of cashmere scarves in the window display, reorganizing them so they were lying with clean edges in a neatly fanned out circle.

A few minutes before closing time, I was surprised to see Eloise walk into the store, glancing around skeptically. There was a time when I was concerned that she was going down the wrong path. Her clothes got tighter, she colored her normally blonde hair black. A few days before, I drove by and saw her smoking at The Hole. I wanted to help her, to assuage her pain, but who was I to do that? I was as bad, if not worse off than Eloise.

I walked around the counter to give her a hug. She was a few inches taller than me now. She would’ve been almost as tall as Max if he’d lived to see it.

“What brings you in?” I asked cheerfully.

“I was talking to Xander, and he said you were helping Scarlett today. So, I thought I’d stop by and...” she paused, looking away. “And well, I’m a junior now and I think it’s dumb, but I promised Steph I’d think about going, even though I think school dances totally blow, but Homecoming is coming up...”

I clapped my hand to my chest, “Oh, Homecoming! I loved the dances in high school. It’s so fun, Eloise, go!”

She glowered at me. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a bunch of horny teenagers drinking watered-down Kool-Aid, dancing to Calvin Harris, and getting finger banged under strobe lights.”

“Well, yeah. But I swear you won’t regret it. Even if it is the worst night of your life.”

“I have quite a few of those, so it’d take a lot to challenge that honor,” she quipped.

“Well, even if it was, having a school dance story, especially a bad one, is a milestone of growing up.”

“How would you know? I’m sure all your school dance stories are filled with romance and whispering sweet nothings.”

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