Page 1 of Bitter Lies

Chapter One

Love really does fucking hurt.

“Ijust don’t see why I have to stay here,” I mutter glumly, staring out the window at my new home, complete with falsely cheerful white shutters and a rocking chair on the front porch, all of which belies the wickedness that lives inside.

“Because it makes me feel better knowing your brother and Griff will be around to protect you,” Mom says softly, patting my hand.

More like watch me like a hawk.

The unspoken words hang between us, creating a bitter taste in the air, and with a sigh, I lean my head against the glass and watch as Max greets Griff with a manly chin lift and chest bump. The sight makes me smile before it fades under my reality.

In an innocent bid to keep me safe, my mom has cast me into my own living hell, which is saying a lot considering where I just came from. But how can I explain to her what I can’t put into words myself?

Griffin Hathaway, my new roommate and my brother’s best friend since the sixth grade, is my kryptonite, and if she thinks I’ll be better served here, she’s woefully misguided.

How she can be so oblivious is beyond me. Griffin hasn’t so much as cast me a kind glance since…well, I don’t remember.

Although, to be fair, he excels at being the shiny golden boy when he wants to be, and for her, my mother, he shines so bright rainbows come out of his ass.

Max is talking animatedly, his excitement to be free of parental monitoring apparent as Griffin nods his head in amusement. In a different world, I’d be standing there also, and watching them together, I ignore the pulse of longing that so often I can’t suppress because once upon a time, Griffin was my best friend, too.

He was the sunshine I craved, the laughter I couldn’t contain—my first thought when I woke in the morning and the last image I had before I went to bed.

It’s hard to believe now, but we were inseparable, closer even than Max and me, born less than a year apart. Griffin and I knew everything about each other, and there was nothing we couldn’t do because we had each other, or so it seemed at that age when the world is an adventure.

We spent many a lazy afternoon sharing our dreams, frustrations, and feelings, pretending to be who we thought we wanted to be, and even sleeping under the stars and making wishes we foolishly believed would come true.

Griff was my first real friend, besides my brother. He was also my first kiss, and if my heart has anything to say about it, my first and only love.

Those days when everything was perfect were the best moments of my life, but now they’re just that, memories, because we lost our direction somewhere along the way. Now he can barely look me in the eyes, and when he does, it’s with a coldness that chills me through.

I’ve spent countless hours searching my soul, trying to find the one moment that changed everything, but it’s not there. When I’m at my lowest, I attempt to recreate those lovely memories because the further we get from those days, the more they seem as though they are mere constructs of my mind.

No matter how hard I wish for it, I can’t go back, although frankly, I don’t think it would matter anyway. We were headed for this before I understood that eventually, everything would change. How could it not when the things that made us different would be too apparent to hide?

He’s the golden boy who can do no wrong, and I’m the fuckup who crashed and burned.

No, I couldn’t outrun the events that happened any more than I can talk my way out of this present.

Griffin Hathaway hates my guts, and now he’s my roommate.

∞∞∞

Griffin comes from money—his daddy owns oil wells, or some shit passed down from father to son since probably the fuckingMayflower. Still, he never lorded it over us and acted no different from the rest of us back in the day. He even seemed embarrassed about his riches at times and downplayed them which makes the differences in our socioeconomic status more apparent now.

Where before he was just one of us running around with dirt-stained knees, now he’s a homeowner in his own right at the tender age of eighteen.

Carrying in the first of my boxes, I glance around curiously at the home Griffin’s parents bought him over the summer since he’ll be here for the four years required to earn his degree.

The place isn’t overdone, but it’s clear to see in the upgrades to the fancy kitchen with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and the sparkling pool just beyond the arcadia doors that he’s blessed.

To top it off, he’s on a full ride to State for football and doesn’t have to pay a dime for tuition as long as he keeps his grades up. Meanwhile, Max and I planned carefully for this and may still have to consider part-time jobs and a shit ton of loans we’ll be paying off until we’re eighty.

Our parents aren’t poor, but they definitely don’t have the means to put us both through college.

“Your room is here,” Griff says to me coolly, his features etched in distaste as he points toward the door while studiously avoiding my eyes.

This is not new, but I feel the pulse of pain just the same, which makes this fucked-up situation all the more confusing. Why did he agree to my mother’s request to begin with?

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