Page 53 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

“Huey, talk to me.”

“Sick of this place,” he mutters, his voice so low she has to walk closer to him to hear it over the passing cars. “High school is so fucked up. Whoever’s idea it was to put a bunch of hormonal teenagers trying to figure out who the hell they are in one place—fuckin’ morons.”

Jessica forces a smile, still not completely satisfied with his response. “Well, year and three-quarters left to go. Hugh, you can’t let people treat you like that. You didn’t even fight back.”

“He’s a closet case,” he replies with a shrug.

Jessica scrunches her face in confusion. Hiking her thumb over her shoulder, she blurts, “Duke?”

“He doesn’t want to wrestle with you, dove, he wants to wrestle with me; but he won’t admit it. He’s too scared. And I won’t fight him. I won’t give him the satisfaction.” He pauses for a moment, staring down at the sidewalk that passes beneath their feet. “Might sound cold, but he’s got to come to grips with his sexuality on his own. I sure as hell did, and I didn’t beat anyone up to figure it out, either.”

Chuckling softly, Jessica takes hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together as she murmurs, “You’ve known since you were ten, Huey. Back then, you were even scrawnier than you are now—which is saying something.”

“Hey,” he grunts, jabbing her with his elbow.

“Just saying,” she giggles. “Of course you weren’t beating anyone up.”

“And I’m saying, there’s no winner if I fight back.”

She gives his hand a squeeze. “You’re a good guy, Hugh.”

“Maybe. But I’m thinking, when we’re free of this place, Hugh isn’t who I want to be. Not anymore.”

“Oh, yeah? Then who will you be?”

He shrugs. “Myself. Someonenottied to the name Thompson and the ridiculous expectations that come along with my trust fund.”

“Well, whoever you are, I don’t care—so long as you’re front-row-center when I’m performing with whatever dance company will have me.”

“You kid, but you’ll get there. And when you do, I’ll be there. Front-row-center.”

Jessica slows her feet, forcing him to follow suit as she tugs on his arm. She then presses up on her tiptoes, reaching to kiss his cheek. Having the support of her best friend is everything. Sometimes, her dreams feel so big and scary; but when she sees them through the eyes of Hugh, when she sees what she’s capable of through the perception of the two people in the world who love her most, it gives her the confidence to keep on dreaming—however big that may be.

“Okay, so,” she starts to say as they continue on their way. “Speaking of the future—where are we going? Your place?”

His family lives in a brownstone in Cobble Hill, only a short walk from the school.

“No way,” he insists. Veering left, he confirms his intentions to steer them in the opposite direction of his home. “Duke just shoved me up against a tree. I need pie.”

A knowing grin spreads across Jessica’s face. She understands right away they’re headed for the subway, taking a ride to her neck of the woods.

“I’m in. Blueberry—for my guy.”

He smiles down at her, she gives him a wink, and her stomach rumbles at the prospect of her favorite, flaky buttery crust.

Jessica blows outa quiet breath as she leans forward, propping her forehead against the edge of the hospital bed. With her eyes closed, she listens to the monitor as it beeps, marking time with the beat of Beth’s heart. Her stomach twists uncomfortably, and she seals her eyes closed tight, wondering how it’s possiblethisis her life.

She’d made up her mind. For a moment, in unit 601, the taste ofKhalohn Morganon her lips—she was lost in the fantasy. The backdrop was different, but the man was still the same, the fire he ignited within her undeniable. Then she left the loft, she wandered back into the real world, the heat of the afternoon burning away the vestiges of theliethat is Bryn van Doren, and she knew.

She knew she couldn’t go through with it. She knew she couldn’t accept Khalohn’s offer. She knew to do so would be like accepting a handout. A fully-furnished escape from the real world, nights of passion with a gorgeous man, and thousands of dollars offered in return—it wasn’t right. She couldn’t do it.

In the time it took her to reach the coffee shop on Greenwich, Jessica convinced herself she had taken too much from Godrik—fromKhalohn—already. Her shame and guilt were one thing—but the idea of hishandoutswent against everything her mother taught her. That truth brought with it a different kind of shame; a shame she was sure she couldn’t shoulder. In short, Khalohn Morgan had saved her, but now it was time for her to take a different route, to find a different way to support her and her mother.

And then her phone rang.

Jessica feels the knot of panic she felt earlier clog her throat, yet again, as she remembers the sound of Beth’s wheezing attempt to speak between her coughing fits. She breathes deep, forcing herself to listen to the sound of the beeping monitor, proof her mother is being treated.

She’ll be fine,she thinks, breathing deeply in order to combat her tears.She’ll be fine.

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