Lying Out Loud

I was glad that Mr. Rush walked in before my dad could ask any more about that subject. Because — vow of honesty and all — I would have had to tell him the truth.

“So

Dad stood up. “Thank you,” he said to Mr. Rush. “For taking care of my daughter.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Mr. Rush said. “We love So

The guard signaled that it was time for us to go. I stood up and hugged Dad over the table. His scent overwhelmed me. The smell of generic soap and … him. I remembered being three or four years old, crying after I’d slammed my finger in the door as he held me to his chest, rocking me, telling me it would be okay.

Fast-forward fourteen years, and I was crying in his arms again.

“I love you, So

He let me go slowly, and I wiped my eyes, not sure what had brought on the sudden tears this time. “Bye, Dad.”

He waved as Mr. Rush led me out past the guards. It was hard to walk away from him. But we’d give this whole father-daughter thing a real try. And even if it didn’t work out, as hard as that would be, I knew I wouldn’t be alone this time.

“Thank you,” I said to Mr. Rush once we were in the car.

“Of course,” he said. “I don’t mind driving you to visit your dad.”

I shook my head.

Because that wasn’t what I’d been thanking him for.

Chapter 30

Meet me in the art room at lunch.

I frowned down at the message from Amy. It wasn’t like her to text during school hours. Why, that was breaking the rules. Something Amy never did … unless I made her.

Nonetheless, I made my way toward the art room instead of the cafeteria. I figured Amy wanted to show me something she’d been working on — I knew her art class had been in the middle of some big project. And I was eager to tell her my good news. I’d gotten an e-mail from Daphne’s that morning, letting me know that they’d like to hire me. Apparently, I had wowed them in my interview, and they wanted me to start immediately.

Hopefully I could hold on to this job for a while. I was tired of being poor.

But when I walked into the art room, Amy wasn’t the only one waiting for me.

“Ryder,” I said, startled. My stomach was already twisting itself into knots. “What are you doing in here?”

“He got the same text you did,” Amy explained. “I figured that was a good way to communicate with you two. Considering the recent past.”

Minor ouch there.

“But why?” I asked.

“I’m going,” Ryder said, moving to the door. My heart sank. But Amy — to my surprise — blocked him.

“You’re not,” she said. “You’re staying in here until you two talk.”

I blinked at her. “You’re … trapping us in a classroom?”

“It was the only way I could think of to get you two in the same room,” she said. Her boldness was completely unexpected. She was really taking this whole Fierce Amy thing seriously. “No one will be in this room until after lunch, so you have half an hour. And you have a lot of talking to do. So I’ll be outside.” She turned and stepped into the hallway, her hand on the knob. “And don’t even try to come out,” she added. “I won’t let you.”

I was still staring, my jaw on the ground, as she closed the classroom door.

“Seems like you’re not the only manipulative one in this friendship,” Ryder muttered as he slid into a seat.

Okay. Major ouch.

“She’s trying to help,” I said.

He shrugged, his gaze deliberately pointed away from me.

“We should talk,” I said. “She’s right about that. Even if her methods are a little … extreme.”

“I have nothing to say, So

I felt helpless but pressed on. “That’s fine, because I have plenty to say.” I walked across the room and sat down at the desk across from his. He didn’t have to look at me, he just needed to listen. “I know you hate me, Ryder. And you have every reason to. But I made a promise to Amy — and to myself — that I’d be honest from now on. And that means telling you the truth, too.”

I took a deep breath and clasped my hands in my lap, clutching my fingers so hard that it hurt.

“So I guess I’ll start at the begi

“So you’re blaming this on me?” Ryder asked, finally looking at me.

“No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m not. Because what happened after that is still my fault.”

I went through the whole story, every last detail. From the instant message conversations to the stupid, convoluted plan I’d dragged Amy into, to the texts and the kissing. I spilled my guts and laid them out on the table like an art project. And all the while, Ryder stayed painfully silent.

“So that’s it. That’s how all of this happened,” I said. “And I know it’s screwed up and I know I did a lot of bad things, but … you should know the truth.”

“Fine,” he said. “Now I know.”

There was a long pause.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” I asked.

“What else do you want me to say, So

“I don’t know,” I said. “Something. Anything. I mean, this can’t just be it. A couple of weeks ago, you thought we had a future together. You said I was incredible.”

“You weren’t who I thought you were,” he said.

“But I was!”

I was on my feet, but I didn’t remember standing up. Somehow I’d begun pacing back and forth between the desks, my hands twisting in my hair. I spun to face him, feeling desperate, determined to make him understand.

“I was exactly the girl you thought I was, Ryder. I was more honest with you than I ever have been with anyone. Even in the texts and the IMs, I was telling you more about myself than anyone knew. You just didn’t know it was me. But everything I told you, about my mom … Ryder, you’re the reason I called my dad. The reason we might have a relationship now. I’ve never even opened up to Amy about that. Maybe none of that means anything to you, but it matters to me.”

“So you want me to forgive you?” he demanded. And then he was on his feet, too. “You want me to just forget all of this happened?”

“I never said that.”

“Amy might be able to get over everything you did, but I’m not that forgiving.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I threw my hands in the air. “You know what? I’m being honest here, so I might as well be honest about this, too. I’m not the only one with problems.”

“I have problems?”

“Have you called your dad yet, Ryder?”

“How does that have anything to do with —?”

“It has everything to do with it,” I said. “When I first met you, you worshipped the ground he walked on. You hated your mom for dragging you away from him. But the minute you found out he wasn’t perfect, you flipped. You thought your mom was a saint and your dad was the worst human who ever lived.”

“My parents have nothing to do with this,” he said.

“You put people on pedestals, Ryder. You tell yourself that they’re perfect. You ignore all of their flaws, until one day they disappoint you just a little too much, and then you’re done. You cut them out and think they’re worthless.”

Ryder and I were so close, staring each other down. My heart was beating so fast, and my breath was a little ragged.

“Your dad screwed up,” I said, my voice lowered. “What he did was awful. But he’s your dad and he wants to be a part of your life. You’re lucky. And your mom —”