Lying Out Loud

“I am,” he said. He smiled. “It’ll be fun. I’m actually excited to go to a party here. Maybe finally make some friends. Show people I’m not a pretentious snob.”

“Oh, Ryder.” I sighed. “You are a pretentious snob … but you have a few redeeming qualities. Namely that you’re rich.”

“Ha-ha,” he said. “I was wrong. You’re not off today. You’re very So

“And by ‘So

Mr. Buckley walked in then, and Ryder had to turn back around in his seat. I was relieved, honestly. The more I talked to Ryder, the less I wanted to tell him the truth. And not telling the truth wasn’t an option anymore. I’d promised Amy, and I was going to follow through on it. No matter how hard it might be.

Or how much it might break my heart.

“So you’re telling him tonight?”

“Yep.”

It was Friday, which meant I’d survived the past two days seeing Ryder in class, knowing the end was coming. But here we were, an hour before the party, and I could almost hear the countdown in my head, ticking away like one of those time bombs on TV.

Amy stood up and grabbed the pick from my hand. “You’re going to rip your hair out,” she said. “It’s go

I stared at the mirror over Amy’s dresser as she took a section of my hair and began combing through the curls herself. I’d already done my makeup twice, but it still didn’t look right. Probably because I never really wore makeup. But waiting for the party for hours after school was too nerve-racking. I needed something to do with my hands. Something I could do and erase and redo to perfection. Not that I’d achieved makeup perfection.

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” she said, moving to another section of hair.

“He’s going to hate me, Amy.”

“No, he won’t.”

“Just because you’re so forgiving doesn’t mean everyone else is.” I tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. It was too tight and the turtleneck was choking me. “He’ll never speak to me again.”

Amy didn’t say anything as she finished with my hair. Under her careful guidance, my curls actually looked nice. She smiled at her handiwork, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Thanks,” I said.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug. “I know this is hard, but it means a lot to me.”

I nodded and leaned my head on her shoulder. “I should’ve done it a long time ago. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this. I really didn’t think it would go this far, but …”

“But it ends tonight,” she said. She released me and brushed a few of my curls behind my ear. “And you’ll feel so much better afterward.”

I nodded, though I knew it wasn’t true.

“And who knows?” she said. “You two have a co

“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t give me false hope.”

“I reject and deny the notion of ‘false hope.’ Hope is never false.” She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “If he’s smart, he’ll listen. He might be mad, but he’ll hear you out and realize how perfect you are for him.”

But I knew Ryder. He may have been smart, but he held a grudge. He’d gone from practically worshipping his father to wanting nothing to do with him. What his father had done was awful, no doubt, but he was still his family. And who was I? The best friend of the girl he thought he liked? The a

Amy wouldn’t hear it, though, so I just nodded and sat down on the bed to tie my sneakers. It was seven-thirty, and the party started at eight. The Rushes had curfew set at eleven on weekends, so at least this would all be over in three and a half hours.

Which would likely be the worst three and a half hours of my life.

“Just so you know, I told Ryder you had plans with your parents,” I said. “I know you’re tired of the lying, but if I hadn’t said something, he’d expect you to be there, so …”

“It’s okay.” She sat down next to me on the bed. “It’s the last lie you’ll tell in all of this.” She sighed. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m really glad it’s going to be over tonight. I’m no good at lying, and always keeping an eye out for Ryder at school — ducking into bathrooms and around corners — I’m way too tall and awkward to be a superspy, So

I laughed, despite myself. “You can say that again.” I got to my feet. “Okay. How do I look?”

“Adorable,” Amy said. “Love the blue turtleneck. Is that mine?”

“Yep. Don’t tell, but I had to stuff my bra a little bit to make it look right on me. I like to think that if I look nice enough, Ryder might be like, ‘Yeah, I’m super pissed, but you’re hot, so all is forgiven.’”

“Seems totally plausible to me,” Amy said. “But if that doesn’t work out, I’ll be waiting here with ice cream and Audrey Hepburn movies.”

“You know I’m more of a Marilyn girl.”

“We’re not having this fight again.”

“Another time,” I assured her. “But now, I’m off to my doom. Enjoy your evening.”

I exited the bedroom with dramatic flair, which was somewhat undercut by Amy following me downstairs.

“Hey,” she said as I slid on my coat by the front door. “Can I say just one more thing?”

“You never have to ask me that.”

“He’s probably going to be mad at first,” she said. “But if he doesn’t realize how great you are, despite this little kerfuffle —”

“ ‘Kerfuffle’? Oh my God, you’ve been around me too long.”

“Shut up and listen.” But her lips twitched toward a smile. “Despite this kerfuffle, if he doesn’t see how awesome you are, So

“Thank you,” I said, accepting another hug that I definitely did not deserve.

She was wrong, though. If — when — Ryder rejected me and refused to speak to me again, the loss would be entirely my own. The guilt twisted in my stomach, and I wished, not for the first time, that I’d found a way to tell him the truth earlier, when the lie first began as just an accident. But now, it had gone way too far.

“See you later,” I said, opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

“Good luck,” Amy called.

I dragged my feet down the driveway. When I finally reached Gert, I pulled out my keys and sighed. “It’s go

Chapter 22

Chris Lawson wasn’t one of those popular jock types. But man, he wanted to be. He was constantly trying to be the cool guy, seemingly unaware that cool people were cool because they didn’t try.

And Chris’s party was kind of a reflection of himself.

It wasn’t bad as far as parties go. It was just trying too hard.

The speakers were blasting loud rap music when I walked in. People were milling about the living room, red Solo cups in hand, though no one seemed quite as enthusiastic about the party as Chris, who darted over to greet me.

“So

“Thanks, Chris.”

“You should go dance! Everyone’s dancing!”

No one — not a single person — was dancing.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Wa

“Sure, but not right now. I’m actually looking for someone. Is Ryder here yet?”

“Who?”

“Ryder Cross.”

“The new kid?” Chris asked.

Ryder had been in Hamilton for more than a semester, so I wasn’t sure “the new kid” was still an appropriate title, but I nodded nonetheless. “Yeah. Is he here yet?”

“Yep. Saw him walk back into the kitchen a few minutes ago.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said. “Enjoy the party, So

“Uh-huh. Definitely.”

As promised, I found Ryder in the kitchen, a red cup in his hand.