Lying Out Loud

So I’d called Amy, told her I needed a place to stay. Told her I’d been kicked out, because I didn’t know how to say the truth: that my mom was gone for real this time. That she’d left, and I didn’t think she’d be coming back.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said. “But maybe things will get better. My parents used to be gone all the time, too, and —”

“It’s different,” I said. “Your parents were gone, but they paid the bills. They made sure you had a place to stay. You could call them, and you knew they’d be back eventually. I haven’t heard from my mom in … five months?” I pushed my bowl away, barely touched. “Her phone doesn’t even work anymore. For all I know she could be dead.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Even if I don’t say it, I can’t not think it. And — this is terrible, but — sometimes I wonder if that would make me feel better. If I knew she hadn’t come back because she couldn’t. Not because she doesn’t care.” I shook my head. “Sorry. That’s morbid. You already think I’m a bad person and I just told you I wish my mother was dead. Nice job, So

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Amy said.

“No. Just a bad friend.” I picked up my bowl and took it to the sink, dumping my food into the garbage disposal. Once it stopped ru

“Can I tell you something?” she asked. “Since we’re being honest with each other?”

“Sure. What is it?”

Amy chewed on her bottom lip and looked down at her own bowl. “I meant everything I said the other day. About you pushing me around. But that’s not the only reason I was mad.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s always been just us, you know?” she said. “So

Ryder. Just the mention of him caused a painful ache in my chest.

Amy continued, “And it wasn’t just that you were pushing me around — I’m kind of used to that.”

I grimaced. That wasn’t something I wanted my best friend to be “used to.”

“It’s that you were doing it for him. You were doing everything for him. You talked about him all the time. And I started to realize you weren’t opening up to me the way you used to. You were telling him things instead. I didn’t even know you’d written to your dad until he called on Christmas. That’s the kind of thing you used to talk to me about. And then when you started dating Ryder, you hardly spent time with me. I was jealous. So when I’d found out you’d lied about telling him the truth … It really hurt, So

She looked up at me, eyes wide and a little wet.

And seeing her on the brink of tears brought me there, too.

“I’m sorry. For all of it. Of course I care about you, Amy. More than anybody. You’re my best friend. I never meant to hurt you.” I took a deep breath. “Part of the reason I spent less time with you after I started dating Ryder was the whole college thing.”

Amy looked down at her feet.

“I shouldn’t have said all that the other day, about you having it so easy.”

“You weren’t wrong,” she said.

“I still shouldn’t have said it. And I shouldn’t have lied to you about college,” I said. “But every time you talked about it, I just felt … scared. Because I knew you’d be leaving me. And I knew that if you knew I wasn’t going, you’d be upset, too, and … I don’t know. I didn’t want to think about it. And I didn’t have to when I was with Ryder.”

“I’m sorry that I just assumed you were going,” she said. “I guess I do take the good things in my life for granted sometimes.”

“I think we’re both probably guilty of that.”

She hesitated. “Why did you lie to me about telling Ryder the truth?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be mad at me?” I said. “That sounds ridiculous in hindsight. But I guess I just thought … I thought that if I lied, I might be able to keep you both. Instead, I lost you both.”

“You didn’t lose me,” she said. “But you will if you keep doing this.”

“I know,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “But it’s scary to tell the truth sometimes. I’ve always been able to hide behind lies. To shield myself.”

“What are you shielding yourself from?” she asked.

“Judgment? Scorn? I don’t know.” I wanted to lie right then. To get out of this conversation before it got too honest. But Amy was right. I couldn’t keep lying. “The fu

“Not everyone,” she said. “You’ve got the Rushes in your corner. But you’ve got to start letting us in. Letting us help. You know … you mentioned college.”

“I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

“Just hear me out,” she said. “That’s another thing. No more talking over me or pushing me around. That’s got to change.”

I nodded. “Sorry.”

“That’s on me, too,” she said. “I’ve got to start speaking up. I’ve got to stop being quiet, weak Amy and start being … Fierce Amy.”

“Fierce Amy?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Someone’s been watching America’s Next Top Model.”

She ignored me. “Back to the college thing. It might be too late for next semester, but that doesn’t mean it can never happen. There are scholarships — I’ll help you find them. And my parents aren’t just going to kick you out on the street after you graduate.”

“I can’t let them keep taking care of me.”

“Then you can pay some rent when you find a job,” she said. “But let us help. You’re part of the family, So

“I guess I can think of worse people to be stuck with,” I said. “But what about us? Are we back to normal? So

“Not quite,” she said. “That’s probably going to take a while. I love you, So

“I can do that,” I assured her. “It’ll be a hard habit to break, but … but I can take an oath. A vow of honesty.”

“That sounds a little more dramatic than what I was hoping for, but okay.” She put her bowl in the sink. She hadn’t eaten much of her midnight snack either. “Now come on. I know it’s silly, but I have a hard time sleeping when you’re in the other room.”

We headed toward the stairs together. “You know,” I said. “While we’re trying to build a healthier friendship, we might want to deal with our whole codependency thing.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But maybe another night.”

Chapter 29

“Okay. Here goes. Ahem. I, So

“Shouldn’t it be Sonya?” Amy asked.

“No.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to be all official about it, it should probably say your full name.”

“Ugh. Fine.” I picked up a pen and scratched out So