Kody Keplinger - Lying Out Loud

If Amy wasn’t going to play along anymore, I didn’t have a choice. I was going to have to come clean, and that meant I had no chance with Ryder. All of our progress had been for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“I understand,” I said.

And I did. As upset as I was that she was bailing, I knew why she wanted out. This scheme had gone on a lot longer than either of us had expected, and I’d known for a while she wasn’t happy about it. I’d just hoped that if I pressed on, things would get better.

They hadn’t.

“So … you’ll tell him?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I will.”

“Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and rested her head on top of mine. “Thank you for understanding.”

As we changed into our pajamas and climbed into the bed, I tried to look on the bright side. Everything was about to crumble with Ryder, but at least I had Amy back.

That’s what really mattered, right? It was like Wesley said. Amy and I had been together forever. We needed each other. It would be crazy to let a guy — even a great guy like Ryder — come between us.

That didn’t make what she was asking easy, though.

In the other room, Bianca and Wesley cheered as the television counted down. “Three! Two! One!”

“Happy New Year, Sonny,” Amy whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

I was dreading history class on Wednesday morning, the first day back from break.

Not only would it be my first time seeing Ryder since our almost-kiss in the Rushes’ driveway and my first contact with him since I’d promised Amy I’d tell him the truth, but we were also beginning our unit on World War I, which I — personally — found super boring.

I hadn’t figured out yet when or how I was going to confess my myriad of lies to the boy of my dreams, but I had a feeling that doing it at school, with everyone around, was a bad idea. While part of me was glad to have a little more time, another part just wanted to rip off the damn Band-Aid and get it over with. It was going to be ugly no matter when I did it, and I knew, without a doubt, that it would end any hope I’d had of winning him over in the long run.

Which was why seeing him smile up at me when I walked into class that morning was so incredibly painful.

“Hey, Sonny,” he said, swiveling in his seat to face me as I sat down behind him. He gave me a slightly nervous smile and adjusted his thick-framed glasses. “How was the rest of your break?”

“Good,” I mumbled as I pulled out my textbook. “How was yours?”

“It was fine.”

There was a long, awkward pause. I fidgeted in my seat and fiddled with the pages of my book. Finally, I looked up and caught him watching me. I expected him to ask about Amy, but he didn’t. “You okay?” he asked. “You seem a little … off.”

He was right. Sonny Ardmore wasn’t known for avoiding people’s eyes. Or for mumbling. Today I was definitely “off.”

I shook my head. “I’m good. Just … trying to get back into the swing of things. It’s always hard after a long break…. And you know how much I hate talking about World War One.”

He laughed. “Yes. I think the whole class does. You’ve been pretty vocal about it. You actually asked Mr. Buckley if we could skip the whole unit last semester.”

“And I’m going to ask again,” I assured him. “Persistence is a virtue.”

“I thought patience was a virtue.”

“A virtue I lack.”

Oh, no. I was doing it again. Sinking into the rhythm of our conversation, letting myself get swept up in it. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself fall any harder for him. Not when it was all about to go up in flames. Time to get started on that Band-Aid.

“Hey, listen, Ryder,” I said. “Are you … are you busy this weekend?”

He raised an eyebrow, and I realized with a jolt what my question must have sounded like.

“Just to hang out … as friends,” I added. I almost told him that I needed to talk to him about something, but I knew that would just solicit too many questions. I wanted to tell him on the weekend, sometime when he wouldn’t have to see me the next day. I figured it would be kinder to the both of us.

“Actually,” he said, brightening, “I was going to invite you to a party. I’ve somehow managed to acquire an invitation to Chris Lawson’s on Friday night. I guess my efforts to be less of an asshole have paid off.”

A party wasn’t exactly the scenario I’d had in mind — again, too many of our classmates would be around. But at least the music would be loud enough that, hopefully, no one would hear him screaming at me. Or maybe I could pull him into a bedroom or somewhere outside. Or, even better, I could get him drunk before I told him the truth.

Or maybe I just secretly wanted to go to a party with Ryder Cross at least one time before this all fell apart.

“That sounds great,” I said. But then, knowing what he might say next, I preemptively added, “I don’t think Amy can come, though. She’s got plans this Friday. With her parents.”

“Oh,” he said. But he didn’t look as disappointed as I’d expected. I tried not to read too much into that. “Well, that’s fine. We can still hang out, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. If you’re okay with that.”

“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 Sonny.”

“And by ‘Sonny,’ you mean delightful?”

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 gonna be okay, Sonny.”

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 connection. You’ve said so yourself. Maybe once he learns the truth, he’ll recognize that. Maybe he’ll understand and you two will finally —”

“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 annoying girl from history class? He owed me no loyalty.

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, Sonny.”