Kody Keplinger - Lying Out Loud

Wesley grinned. “Wow,” he said. “That’s shockingly sentimental coming from you. I’ve never heard you say something so heartfelt about anyone besides Amy.”

I might have blushed if my face wasn’t moments from becoming an ice cube.

“You should tell him how you feel,” he said. It was so nonchalant. So casual. Like what he was suggesting was the simplest thing in the world.

I had no idea he was so dumb.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve already established this.”

I bit my lip.

“From what you’ve said, it sounds like he might feel the same way about you.”

“I’ve barely said anything,” I pointed out. “And, no. He likes Amy. She’s sweet and gorgeous and I’m …”

“You’re what?”

He wasn’t letting me off the hook.

“And I’m … not Amy.”

Wesley stopped and put his gloved hand on my arm, turning me to face him. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “Listen to me. First, stop comparing yourself to Amy.”

“There’s no comparison —”

“Stop.” He glared at me, daring me to speak again. I didn’t, and he continued. “You’ve got to stop sizing yourself up. I know it seems like it matters now — I used to think so, too — but it doesn’t. Trust me.”

I rolled my eyes. That was easy for him to say. He was a Rush. He was gorgeous and well liked. And it wasn’t like I thought I was hideous or anything. I just knew that someone who found Amy attractive probably wouldn’t be as interested in me.

“Second,” Wesley said, drawing my attention back. “Are you really going to let this get between you and my sister?”

Guilt twisted my stomach, and I swallowed. “I don’t want it to.”

“Then don’t,” he said. “This guy might be as great as you say, but you two have something special. You’ve been inseparable from the minute you met. Like peanut butter and jelly.”

“Ew.”

“Right. I forget you don’t like peanut butter and jelly … but Amy never forgets. Did you know that when our parents took you two to the beach as kids, Amy would make your sandwiches herself? Dad would always forget and make peanut butter and jelly for everyone. So Amy would make you a different sandwich and pack it herself.”

I looked down at my feet. I didn’t know that, but it didn’t surprise me.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you two,” he admitted. “I don’t know how this guy figures into it. But I do know that both of you will regret it if you don’t fix things.”

“She won’t talk to me,” I said. “How can I fix things if she won’t talk to me?”

“Be patient with her,” he said. “You know Amy. She’s not like you and me. Sometimes it takes her a while to put words to what she’s feeling. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “You’re right.”

“I know. I usually am.”

I snorted. “Whatever you say.”

“Come on. Let’s head back to the house. Bianca will kill me if I die of frostbite at her grandfather’s cabin.”

“But you’d already be dead, so …”

“That wouldn’t stop her.”

We got turned around a few times on the way back — in our conversation, both Wesley and I had forgotten to pay attention to where we were going. Just when morbid thoughts of the Donner Party were starting to pop into my head, we spotted the cabin and made our way toward it.

We rounded the corner of the cabin just as his Porsche began making its way up the driveway.

“Hey, Sonny. Seriously, just tell the guy how you feel,” Wesley said, even though that conversation had long since been dropped.

“But —”

“And don’t assume you know how he feels,” he said firmly. “You can’t read his mind. Give him a chance. He might surprise you.” He smiled, watching Bianca as she climbed from the car.

“Hey,” she yelled, waving him over. “Are you gonna come help me with these groceries or not?”

His smile turned to a grin as he hurried to her, our conversation clearly completely vanishing from his mind. “What’s in it for me?” he asked as she rolled her eyes and shoved a bag into his hands.

I hung back, watching them for a long moment. Wesley’s words had left me a little a stunned. Ryder had said almost the exact same thing when he encouraged me to contact my dad.

And he’d sort of implied it about me.

Maybe Wesley was right. Maybe Ryder would surprise me if I just gave him a chance.

And as for Amy, I just needed to be patient. She’d come to me eventually, and we’d work things out when she did.

Bianca hadn’t disappointed when it came to snacks for the night. She bought candy, popcorn, and a gallon of chocolate-swirl ice cream. Not to mention more Cherry Coke than a person could or should even drink in two days, which was all that remained of our Appalachian adventure.

The four of us piled into the living room, the fireplace blazing, to watch the ball drop. Amy stayed quiet, as she usually did when I was in the room now, but I tried to keep my spirits up. Partly because of what Wesley had said — knowing that when Amy was ready, she’d talk to me — but mostly for Bianca’s sake. This trip had been her idea, after all, and I hadn’t been the most pleasant guest.

“You sure you don’t want any ice cream, Amy?” Bianca asked.

“No, thank you,” Amy said.

“Not everyone likes ice cream in the dead of winter,” Wesley said.

Bianca shut him up by shoving a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He reeled back, cupping his hands over his head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Bianca teased. “Brain freeze?”

Wesley took a few deep breaths, then looked up. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said just before leaping on top of her. She shrieked as he began to tickle her sides.

It was too disgustingly adorable, and I had to look away. Which was when I caught Amy’s eye.

She was watching me, I realized. I gave her a small smile, but it fell fast when she looked away.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she said, getting to her feet.

Bianca and Wesley sat up, both still laughing.

“It’s only eleven-thirty,” Bianca said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m a little tired. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well … we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Amy,” Wesley said.

“Good night.” She started down the hallway, toward our little room, then stopped and looked back. “Hey, Sonny?”

I turned to her, surprised and a little hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Will you come talk to me for a minute?”

“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”

I stood up, then looked over at Wesley, who was giving me a very I-told-you-so look.

“Night,” I said, and left Bianca and Wesley alone in the living room, waiting for the ball to drop.

I followed Amy into our room and quietly shut the door behind me. Amy sat down on the bed, chewing on her bottom lip. I remained standing, leaning against the wall.

“So, I’ve been thinking … about this whole Ryder thing,” she said.

“Amy, I’m so sorry about the texts,” I said, unable to hold it back. “I know it was wrong. I knew it even when I did it, and you have every right to be pissed at me. But I swear, it won’t happen again.”

“I appreciate that, but —”

“I mean, you have your phone back now,” I said. “And I haven’t IMed Ryder in forever, so the catfishing is over.”

“Good …” She took a deep breath. “But it’s more than just that.”

“I know,” I said. “The texts were kind of dirty and that’s weird for you, and I’m really —”

“Sonny, no,” she said. “I mean, yes. It’s weird. But that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Well, then, say it.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed. “I know you really like him. And I know you didn’t mean to upset me. You’d never mean to do that. But … this whole thing has gone on a lot longer than I thought.”

“What whole thing?”

“Your plan,” she said. “To make Ryder like you and not like me. Me acting weird and rude around him. I just … I really don’t feel comfortable doing it.”

“I know,” I said. “I know. But we’re so close.” I moved to sit on the bed beside her. “Really, really close, Amy. It won’t take much longer.”

“You’ve said that from the start,” she said.

She wasn’t wrong about that.

“But, Amy —”

“Wait. Just … let me finish.” She tugged on a curl and stared at the wall for a second, silent. “I know you like him,” she said again. “But I don’t think I can do this anymore. I can’t keep lying. I’m not good at it the way you are. And I don’t like being rude. And I don’t like him thinking I’ve been sending those texts —”

“I told you. I don’t do that anymore.”

“But it’s already been done,” she said. “And he thinks it was me who sent them.”

“So … what are you saying?” I asked.

“I guess I’m saying that I want out,” she said. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“But you said you’d help me.”

“It didn’t feel like I had a choice,” she admitted. “And I didn’t think it would go this far. I’m sorry, Sonny. I just … I can’t.” She wrung her hands in her lap and took another deep breath. “And … and I want you to tell him the truth. That none of it was me.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t seen that last part coming.

“I just … I think he should know,” she said. Every word seemed to cost her something. “And I need him to know. It’ll be better for all of us.”

I nodded, but inside I was a mess of feelings. Anger at Amy, guilt, regret, heartbreak. Because for all the good things Wesley had said on our hike that day, about Ryder maybe surprising me, I knew it didn’t matter now.