LIAR, LIAR: High School Bully Romance (Season One | Episode Two) Read online

  Her legs close a fraction before opening again. I take my time with her. A gentle kiss here, a small brush of my finger there, pressing my lips to her center through the fabric of her panties. Her hips lift.

  I pull the lace to the side and flick my tongue across her. “Shit, Kiah.”

  “Shh.” My tongue reaches for her again. Once. Twice. Then I close my mouth around her and kiss her clit.

  Kiss.

  Lick.

  Kiss.

  Lick.

  Her hands tangle in the sheets, her breath panting out in bursts. Running my finger down her wet fold, I ease the tip inside her.

  My phone rings across the room. I try to ignore it. It stops and then a second later rings again.

  Calli tenses beneath me. “Kiah.”

  I pull away for a second, looking up her long, lean body straight into her ocean blue eyes.

  “It’s your mom,” she says, and for a second, I wonder how the hell she knows, then I realize she recognizes the ring tone.

  I stand, grabbing my phone, and press Accept.

  “Kiah. You should come now. He’s awake.”

  My heart drops like a stone in the sea. Fuck.

  “Okay. I’m on my way,” I say and disconnect.

  Calli lying on my bed half naked is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen in my life. I want to crawl back in the bed with her and finish what we started, but this can’t wait.

  “I have to go.”

  “It’s fine. Be careful.”

  I dress in record time, then lean over the bed and press my lips to hers. “Hurry back.”

  Chapter Eight

  Half a truth is often a great lie.

  -Benjamin Franklin

  Calliope

  I lay there forever, fighting back emotions that I have no business feeling, anyway. I know Kiah didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t abandoning me the moment he got what he wanted, but at the same time . . .

  Stupid heart.

  Stupid head.

  It’d be nice if just once, they could agree on something and stick to it.

  My phone vibrates on the desk across the room, reminding me that I told Murphy to call. Jumping from the bed, I grab it and accept the call then start searching the floor for my clothes.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.” Murphy sounds distant and closed off. Nothing like her normal bubbly self, and I hate that. I hate that even if I didn’t mean to, I still had a hand in hurting her.

  “Are you out of school?”

  “Yeah. Driving home now.”

  “Do you want to come by so we can talk?” I ask.

  There is a long pause. I pull the phone away from my ear and check to see if the call has been dropped, “Murf?”

  She sighs into the speaker. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  She hangs up. I pull my shirt over my head and take my jeans with me to my room down the hall and toss them in the laundry basket by the door, then I dig out some shorts and change my sweater out for a long T-shirt.

  The mundane motions take my mind off what happened with Kiah for a few moments, but when I’m done, they bombard me again.

  I wanted him. I wanted all of him, and if his phone hadn’t rung, I would have gone all the way with him. I don’t know what that says about me, if anything. Hell, I still want him. My body aches in ways I’ve never experienced before, each movement sending tingles of awareness throughout.

  Downstairs, I grab two water bottles from the refrigerator and then sit on the front step waiting for Murphy to pull up. I barely hear her pull in. Any other time I’ve been with Murphy, her music has been blasting in her MINI, but this time, the only sign of her arrival is the slight crunch of tires on concrete. Her eyes meet mine through the window of the car, and then she squares her shoulders and climbs out.

  I wait for her to come to me and then ask, “Do you want to talk out here or go up to my room?”

  “Room.”

  I stand, opening the front door, and lead her inside and up the stairs. Kiah’s bedroom door is wide open, mocking me from down the hall. I ignore it and push open my bedroom door.

  “I don’t know where to start,” I say.

  “Did you do it? Tell me the truth. I can get over the truth, but I can’t handle lies.”

  “No. Nothing happened. I swear,” I say. “Well, not nothing, but definitely not that.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  I take a deep breath and jump in. “After you left, someone thought it would be funny to throw something in the fire. I didn’t see it happen, but then everyone was yelling to run so I did. Except I’ve never been there before so I didn’t know where to run. I took off and then landed face first in a pond or something.”

  “You fell in a pond?” She almost smiles. I can see her putting in a lot of effort to keep it away.

  “Yeah. And I was soaked, like dripping wet from head to toe. Sycilly offered me dry clothes, and I followed her to her house to get some. She had me take my wet stuff off outside and gave me a towel and told me where her room was. I didn’t think she was trying to trick me. I didn’t really think at all. I was wet and cold and embarrassed, so I walked down the hall and opened the door. I couldn’t find the light and I turned to ask her where it was.”

  “That’s when she pushed me onto the bed. Brax was there. At first, I thought he was drunk and passed out, but then he wouldn’t let me go and Sycilly was there in the doorway, videoing the whole thing and laughing.”

  “I finally got away and ran out the door. I stole Kiah’s car and came straight home.”

  God, that was hard. I open my water and take a sip while she digests the story I just told her.

  “So, you’re saying Sycilly and Brax did this on purpose. That they set you up and then what? Screenshot parts of the video to make it look like you were screwing him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you expect me to believe that?”

  “I’d hoped you would, but I understand if you can’t. I’m new here. You barely know me, and these are people you grew up with. I get that, but it’s the truth, Murphy.”

  “The photos—”

  “Look really bad, I know. I only saw them on your phone once, and I know how it looks, but I was terrified. I didn’t know what he was trying to do.”

  Murphy grabs her phone and pulls up the photos. I watch her, my breath held hostage in my lungs.

  “Your hair is wet. I didn’t see that before.”

  I release the air. “Stupid pond.”

  “And in this one, you do look scared. Why is he holding your wrists?”

  “He wouldn’t let me up. I know he was your boyfriend and you cared for him, but I honestly thought he was going to rape me or something. It’s the only thought that kept running through my head. He can’t have my virginity. He can’t have my virginity.”

  “You’re a virgin?” She asks, and I nod.

  “Me too. He’s been pushing to have sex for a while now, but every time I thought about it, he’d do something stupid like sleep with Sycilly and I’d strengthen my resolve.”

  “Why the hell did you stay with him?”

  “I don’t know. I told myself he loved me. I guess . . . I don’t know.”

  “I understand,” I say, even if I really don’t.

  “This is so fucked up. We need to set the story straight.”

  “Honestly, I don’t really care. As long as you and Kiah know the truth, that’s all that matters to me. Let them believe what they want.” I take another sip of my water.

  “You believe me, right?” I try to keep the desperation out of my voice, but I’m not sure I succeed.

  “Yeah. I do,” she says. “It’s so messed up, though.”

  “I know.”

  We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of us in our own thoughts. I wish I knew the reason for their attack. I mean, I’ve done some petty hazing before, but this wasn’t fun. It was mean and
terrifying.

  “I still can’t believe you fell in a pond.” She laughs when she says it, and the tightness in my chest eases.

  “It was so cold! And muddy! I couldn’t even get out.”

  She falls back on my bed in a fit of giggles. I lie next to her, and for the next ten minutes, we laugh at my epic failure of an escape.

  After about thirty minutes, she stands and tells me she needs to get home. Then she pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you and believed you could do something like that.”

  “It’s okay. I probably would have, too.”

  I walk her down the stairs and then wave goodbye as she pulls out of the driveway.

  Chapter Nine

  Art is a lie that makes us realize truth.

  -Pablo Picasso

  Kiah

  Half the drive there, all I want to do is turn around and go back home. The image of Calli lying in my bed all alone will torture me forever. Of all the times he could wake, it had to be now.

  My thoughts and emotions fluctuate back and forth like a toddler on a seesaw. One second, I’m glad, relieved, and then immediately after, I’m pissed all over again. Underneath it all is fear.

  Fear of what he will say. Fear of hurting my mother, of failing her in some way. Fear of his hurting her with his shortcomings once again.

  When I pull into the hospital, my relief is shadowed by my rage at him for doing this and at myself for my part in it. It never should have come to this. We all saw the signs. For years now, we’ve ignored his lewd comments and outburst. He’s hardly ever home since his company requires travel. At most, I see him four days a month.

  It’s not always easy, but it beats having him around every day.

  I text my mother to let her know I’m here and then lock the doors to my car and step through the doors of the hospital. It smells like bleach and something else, something strong and clean. At the front desk, I give my name and then follow the long hallway to the elevator.

  The door opens. I step inside and lean against the back panel. Taking a deep breath, I try to steel myself to see him again.

  I almost have my shit together when they open on the fourth floor. My hands shake a little, so I tuck them in my front pockets and step off the elevator.

  Fourteen steps.

  That’s how long it takes to get to his room. I push open the door and step inside. Mom is beside his bed, feeding him ice chips and asking if he’s up to eating. His eyes meet mine.

  “Kiah?” He doesn’t sound angry. More curious than anything else.

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  The doctors warned us that he might not ever wake up, and if he did, they couldn’t guarantee that he would be the same. A part of me hoped he wouldn’t wake. What kind of son wishes his father would die?

  A shit one.

  The same kind of son who puts his father in the hospital.

  “He’s been asking for you,” Mom says, putting the pink cup of ice back on the table.

  I nod, expecting that.

  “Give us a minute,” Dad says. My mother doesn’t even think to deny his wishes. She grabs her purse and kisses him on the forehead then leaves the room.

  Leaves me alone with him.

  I stand across the room. I don’t think I’d hurt him, but you can’t be too sure, right?

  “What the hell happened? Your mother said you were there.”

  His question shocks me. Does he really not remember or this some sick joke? I watch him, trying to figure out which it could be. He stares back at me, his face open, curious.

  “We were out back, by the pool. We were arguing and you took a step toward me then lost your balance and fell. Your head hit the edge of the concrete stairs and you went underwater.”

  He nods, adding the details to memory.

  “And you pulled me out?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t mention that it took me half a minute longer than it should have to jump in and grab him. Or that he wouldn’t have lost his balance if I hadn’t shoved him. He doesn’t need to know that right now. No one does.

  That kind of information could see me locked up, my pick of colleges snatched away at the utterance of a single word. I swore Calliope to secrecy.

  That’s why it took me a minute to drag him out of the water. I was making her promise not to tell a soul.

  So far, she hasn’t.

  Chapter Ten

  An unexciting truth may be eclipsed by a thrilling lie.

  -Aldous Huxley

  Calliope

  Kiah’s been gone for over six hours. I try not to think too much about it, but secretly, I’m going crazy.

  I’ve never been one of those girls who gets hung up on a guy and goes crazy when they leave them on Open in Snap Chat or doesn’t text right back. Still, this is different.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself every time I race up the stairs to check my phone. Of course, it would have been easier to just bring my phone with me, but then I would check every two minutes or worse . . . message him.

  No, this way is better. Besides, I’m not some lovesick chick who needs a man. Really, I’m not.

  I cook dinner, a couple of taquitos in the oven, and then run some bath water. And maybe I check my phone one more time when I grab night clothes, but no one is around to see so it doesn’t count. Right?

  I pour some rose petal scented bath soap into the flowing hot water and strip out of my clothes. This is just what I needed to relax. A little time alone to center myself.

  When I finish with my bath, I wrap a towel around my chest, even if it reminds me of Sycilly and her cruel joke, and then I make a deal with myself. If he hasn’t texted by the time I finish applying lotion, then I’ll message him and I won’t be nice and needy. I’ll be firm. Just checking on him, making sure he’s okay.

  With a firm plan in mind, I pull the towel away and wrap it around my hair then sit on the edge of the bed and start with the lotion. I purposely take my time.

  I shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily for being a dick the last week. I know that, but Kiah is one of my best friends, and staying angry with him seems wrong. When I thought he believed the rumor Sycilly was trying to spread, it crushed me. His opinion matters to me more than it should.

  I probably could have forgiven him without the blow job, but at the time, it felt right. Hot and sexy, and I liked the power it gave me over him. For a few minutes, I was in control. I’ve missed that, the being in control part, not the giving blow jobs part since that was technically my first. Although there was that one time I kissed a guy’s dick. I don’t think that counts.

  I lie back on my bed remembering the way he felt in my hands, in my mouth. His silky soft skin covering a rock-hard erection. It was fun. My hand wanders to my stomach, my fingers trailing feather soft across the smooth lines, down my hip, and along the front of my thigh.

  My legs fall open, and I touch myself there with the lightest of touches. It’s nowhere near the same as when he kissed me there, but it still feels good.

  Closing my eyes, I imagine him there now, his warm breath on my skin and slide a finger inside.

  Shit.

  I’ve masturbated before. I don’t think there are many girls my age who haven’t, but usually, it’s done with a silver bullet and over before I have a chance to pull my pants all the way down. This feels more personal. More seductive.

  I slide in and out, imaging Kiah pushing inside me. My heart races, my breath escaping in short burst of panicked exhilaration. I play with myself, learning my body all over again. I think I like what I’ve discovered.

  Chapter Eleven

  And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but the truth in a masquerade.

  -Alexander Pope

  Kiah

  It’s been a hell of a day. First with Calli outside the school, and then later with the incident in the cafeteria.

  When Mom called, I was ready to call it quits and run off to the Bahamas or something. Anywhere but here.


  The last few hours have taught me more than one thing, but I’m pretty positive the universe is telling me to stay the fuck away from Calliope Warren.

  I beat the hell out of my friend earlier today because of her, and the moment I dropped my guard and let her back in, my dad woke up. It’s like a flashing red light screaming STOP, don’t go there, and I keep testing the limits.

  Even now, climbing the stairs to check in on her. I almost messaged her a dozen times, but each time I typed something out, it didn’t seem good enough. How am I supposed to tell her he’s awake? ‘Oh, and I think you are ruining my life.’

  No. I couldn’t do that. Besides, it’s not her fault. Not really.

  I check my room first since that’s where I left her, and when I find it empty, I head down the hall to hers.

  When I near the door, I hear a low moan, followed by a breathy exhale of my name.

  “Kiah.”

  She moans into the still room. I twist the knob and push the door open a crack. I see the sheet shift and her bare leg sprawled across the bed. I push the door as easily as I can and hold my breath as it glides open. I can see more of her now.

  The silky soft sheet is bunched around her waist and dips across her hip to cover one leg, leaving the other completely bare. I watch as she takes one of her breasts in her hands and squeezes it before pulling on the taut nipple. Her eyes are closed and her head is tossed to the side. She is so fucking beautiful. I could stand here and watch her for days.

  Her other hand is tracing feather light touches across her clit. My cock is hard as a rock just watching her. I want to replace her hand with my own and take over, but something about this is so intimate, so provocative that I can't move. I can only look.

  She dips lower, raising her leg when she does so, and slowly slides one finger into her glistening pussy lips. Another moan escapes her beautiful lips, this one deeper, more like a growl of pleasure. She slips back out and rubs the wetness across her most sensitive spot again. Her legs twitch, and my breath hitches in my throat. I want to be the one to make her twitch and scream with pleasure.