Lies My Girlfriend Told Me Part 8

She starts sobbing again.

There's no way we're going to be able to talk on the phone. I say, "Do you want to meet?"

She blows her nose. "I have to work at two."

"Where do you work?"

"In Greeley. At the mall."

I check my clock and it's a little after ten. Mom and Dad will probably be gone until early afternoon.

"We could meet now," I say.

"Where?" She sniffles.

"I don't know."

"There's a McDonald's in Broomfield right off 287. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah," I say.

She adds, "It'll probably take me twenty or twenty-five minutes."

"If I get there first, I'll wait." I owe her that.

She stays on the line, like she wants to say more. Or is waiting for me to speak. This sensation floods through me like when a roller coaster begins its ascent and you can see the top of the rise and you know any second the bottom is going to drop out from under you.

She starts crying again and disconnects. I hang on a moment longer, regaining my equilibrium.

Chapter 9.

For some reason I take my time getting ready. Combing my hair into a ponytail the way Swanee usually wore hers, and then taking it down. As if it might remind Liana. As if I care. Putting on makeup. Trying different outfits.

"For G.o.d's sake," I say aloud. "It's not a date."

When I get to the McDonald's, she's huddled in a corner booth, hugging her knees, her face buried between her arms. There's a c.o.ke cup with a straw on the table in front of her, but nothing else. I approach and she lifts her head slowly. Her face looks drained and her eyes are red.

I slide in across from her and she hides her face again.

This is going to be a waste if she's not even going to talk to me. Suddenly, she twists her head so her cheek is resting on her knee and says, "When did you know?"

Know what? Oh. "The day she... it... happened."

Liana's eyelashes are wet and she wipes a tear from under one eye. Blinking up at me, she says, "Why would she tell me her name was Swanelle Delaney and that she went to Cherry Creek High?"

I don't want to touch that. "Why does-did-Swan do anything?"

Liana doesn't seem to register the remark. She looks off, out the window. "I called her Swan, too."

Oh, G.o.d. I fight for control over my emotions.

"Did she even live in Greenwood Village?"

"No," I say. "She lived in Arvada and went to Arvada High." My stomach rumbles and I say, "I need something to eat or drink."

Liana shoves her c.o.ke across the table. "Take mine. I haven't touched it. I'll buy you something if you're hungry. And pay for your gas, since I made you come."

"That's okay. You didn't make me." It's nice of her to offer. I don't want her to be nice. I want her to be a stalker. And a b.i.t.c.h. But I do accept the c.o.ke.

The cold, fizzy liquid feels soothing to my dry throat as I sip from the straw. She watches me intently with her big brown eyes and says, "Joss always hated me. Swan said she was prejudiced against Mexicans. But it goes beyond prejudice to text me for two weeks and make me think Swan was still alive. That's just cruel."

I choke. Set the cup down.

I've never known Joss to be racially biased. She pretty much loathes people across the board.

I open my mouth to tell Liana it was me, and I'm sorry, and I don't know why I did it except I wasn't in my right mind at the time.

"I didn't even get to say a rosary for her." Liana swallows hard. "Did she have a service?"

I nod. "More like a party."

Liana frowns. "Why would you have a party when someone pa.s.ses?"

My question exactly. "Jewell and Asher wanted to celebrate her life."

"Who are they?"

Is she serious? "Swanee's parents."

Her eyes widen. "You know them?"

"Yeah. They're cool."

She just looks at me. "I don't get any of this. Swan lies about her name and where she lives and goes to school. She tells me her parents don't know she's gay-"

I laugh a little. Liana's eyes harden. "They knew," I say. "She's the outtest person in the world."

Liana's head drops back against the seat. I swirl the straw in the c.o.ke and look at her. She's beautiful, even though she's wrung out. Liana lifts her head. "It says on your Facebook profile that you were in a relations.h.i.+p with her."

I can't hold her eyes. "I was."

"For how long?"

"Since Christmas break." I should've cherished every moment like it was our last. You never think... "How long were you with her?"

Liana watches me draw c.o.ke from her straw. "The twentieth of February would've been our six-month anniversary. We were planning to get married after graduation."

I cough and c.o.ke comes up my nose. "Joss said she broke up with you."

"Joss is a liar, in case you haven't figured that out by now." In a murmur she adds, "A heartless liar with no soul." She pauses. "I a.s.sume you found out about me through her. She must've been jumping with joy to let you know Swan was cheating on you."

The statement strikes me like a blow to the chest.

I say, "It wasn't like that. I found clues. Stuff in Swan's room. Your poetry book and your CD. I had to drag it out of Joss."

"Right," she says, like she doesn't believe me.

Our eyes meet again.

Liana's well with tears. "I can't do this." She slides out of the booth, racing to the exit.

I'm paralyzed. Not only was Swanee dating Liana behind my back-cheating-she told me I was the love of her life and that we would always be together.

My cell rings on my way home, but I know better than to answer while I'm driving. The ringtone indicates it's Mom or Dad, so no emergency, other than checking up on me. I hope to G.o.d they didn't call Betheny's house.

I pull into the garage and check my voice mail. It's Mom telling me they'll be home around five and to please figure out something for dinner.

Swanee never had to cook dinner for her family. I don't know of one time they even ate dinner together as a family.

Swanee.

I'm so baffled now I'm not even sure who's lying to who. If Swanee had given Liana her real name, she'd have known about Swanee's death. I wonder if Swan gave a single thought to how much pain it would cause both Liana and me if either of us found out about the other.

Why I care about Liana's feelings is a mystery. Except I know how much I've been hurting since Swanee died, and I'd only been going with her for a few weeks. We hadn't even slept together.

Mom calls again and I answer, feeling numb. She says, "Did you get my message?"

"Yes." Marching orders received.

"How was Betheny's?"

"Fine," I say.

"Did you finish the project?"

Rather than lying, I say, "I better get started on dinner. Do you care if it's edible?"

I hear amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice when she replies, "You're a great cook and you know it."

At least I like to cook. Betheny and I used to watch the Food Network a lot, so I've developed a small repertoire of recipes. In the freezer I find a package of chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s, which I microwave to thaw, and all the makings for panko-crusted chicken and scalloped potatoes. After I a.s.semble everything and get it in the oven, I realize I'm starving. I grab a bag of Double Stufs to take to my room.

Swanee loved Oreos. We had this s.e.xy way of eating them where she'd separate the halves, take a long lick of the frosting, and then hand it off to me to do the same. We'd repeat this until all the frosting was gone. Then she'd cover her eyes with the cookies and say, "Kiss me, Cookie Monster."

I almost laugh at the memory, but it catches in my throat.

I make myself a PB-and-banana sandwich for lunch and throw in a handful of Oreos. Then I take the Oreos out and stack them back in the package.

At school, as I'm about to enter the media center to eat, the librarian is locking the door.

"Oh, Alix," she says. "You can't eat lunch in here every day. I thought you understood that."

I did, of course. I do. It's the rule.

I could eat in the restroom, I guess. How gross. As I trail a herd of students into the cafeteria, I see my regular spot is empty-the place where Swanee and I used to take up residence. Someone has even confiscated the chairs and left the table deserted. I look around as if I'm seeing the cafeteria for the first time. How all the cliques sit together. The jocks and the cheerleaders, the stoners, the loners, the Hispanics, the blacks. How depressing. So much for diversity training.

I hear the gays laughing and joking around, and I know I could go sit with them. But I haven't been to the GSA in so long I sort of feel like an outsider now. Raucous laughter a few tables over draws my attention. Betheny's eyes catch mine and hold. I wish I could go back in time to when we were BFFs. She glances away before I can even toss her an offhanded smile. That bridge went up in flames because of me. Relations.h.i.+ps can't be reconstructed from ashes.

I can't stay here. I go to my locker, take out my coat, and eat outside at one of the picnic tables where all the smokers gather.

My fourth period is English and Mrs. Burke a.s.signs a persuasive paper on the topic "Ignorance Is Bliss." I'm so distracted I miss the part where she asks for volunteers to take sides so we can discuss it next week. "Alix," she says, "would you mind taking the opposite position?"

I'm jolted awake by the sound of my name. "Which is what?" I ask her. Ignorance is ignorance?

"Yeah," someone else says. "What is opposite?"

"You'll figure it out," Mrs. Burke says.

Ignorance is bliss is easy. Until I knew about Swanee's death, I was ignorant of the true depth of pain a person could suffer.

Like Liana. She had two more weeks thinking Swan was alive. Maybe what I did wasn't so horrible. Saving someone the agony of loss can't be all bad.

Back home, as I'm lying in bed listening to music, my cell rings. No ID. It must be Joss, calling to ask if I've found Swanee's cell.

When I answer, Liana says, "I a.s.sume you know where Swan lives." She sounds p.i.s.sed off. She has no right to be mad at me; I didn't do anything-that she's aware of. In fact, if I'd known about her, I never would've started dating Swanee. That's not the kind of person I am.

"Would you take me there?" It's more an order than a request.

So that means she was never in Swanee's room? Never stayed the night? It's a stretch, but maybe they didn't do it?

"Alix?"

I'm torn. I understand her needs, and wish I didn't. She has to touch and smell and sense what's left of Swanee. If I were selfish, I'd say no, what's left of Swanee is mine. But what does it matter now?

She adds, "We don't have to go inside or anything. I just want to see how far her lies extended."

How far is heartbreak and back?

"If you don't want to-"

"It's no problem," I cut in.