Page 134 of Web of Lies
“Likely story,” he mumbles.
“I’ll wear your jersey. I’ll even paint my face. Do people do that?” I ask, looking at the smirking boys.
“Oh, yeah, they sure do,” Zepp says, kissing my cheek. “Now, let’s get some rest before we have to worry about, well—everything we need to do.”
Lucas Van Buren doesn’t exist.
Well—that’s a lie. He exists—somewhere on some planet. But not here. Not even the internet had much to say. Closed adoption. Parents deceased. The only newspaper clipping I found was a tiny excerpt regarding his birth parents. Silvia and John Van Buren died in a massive car accident—a huge, big, giant explosion of a car accident with no survivors. Unfortunately for the Van Buren family, they lost a child in the crash. They didn’t release the child’s name in the statement for their privacy, and no other information was given. Not even an obituary or memorial service. Why did this family hide everything about themselves?
Something more happened. They gave Lucas up for adoption. The other reports I read sent me to Greta Van Buren—the grandma. She owned the grounds we walked on, the house the twins bought for parties, and then she didn’t. Dante Van Buren, described as a delusional madman, gave it to her—his daughter. After his death, Greta inherited all one-hundred million dollars from his estate. The houses, the grounds, and the money all went to her and her alone. But after that? The paperwork gets muddy. She lived until ninety, giving away every cent she inherited from her father to charities and built the school. She also donated the school’s land, so an academy could continue and become what it is today. And that’s it. There’s no more information about her. Or him. Or if he had any siblings.
Lucas Van Buren is a ghost—figuratively. He exists because Victoria/Piper exists. So, Victoria, who roams the halls of this school, is a descendent of Greta via Lucas. So, what does Piper know? She knows who Lucas is—sure. He checked her into the hospital after her parents’ divorce. But does she know he’s her father? I need to get back into her room or tail her. Maybe I should join the FBI someday because this investigation is invigorating. I also want to tear my hair out or bash my head against the wall because of the lack of information. If I could find one thing.
My cuties:
Chase:
Who is ready for the Pep rally??
Kaycee:
Picture included.
Seger:
Fuck. Are you wearing pants under that?
I snort, pulling up a pair of black leggings. I pull down the Benoit jersey Chase gave me at the beginning of school and start painting each of their numbers on my face in red paint. One for each cheek and another on my forehead: twelve, sixty, and ninety-nine. Ninety-nine sits on the back of my jersey, too. I have to represent all my boyfriends, after all.
Zepp:
Please wear pants… I can’t handle looking at you from across the gym, knowing that.
Kaycee:
Meh, no promises.
Seger:
Baby…. Don’t tease us. We’re in a disgusting locker room full of half-naked dudes…
Chase:
So… what color is your underwear?
Zepp:
Ffs Chase…
Kaycee:
Well, I’ll give you a peek. Just look for me when you parade in. Go Panthers!
Seger:
No. No, no. Fuck no. That’s my pussy.
Zepp:
