Page 14 of Reckless Liar

Even in the dark, I knew everything about the photo. How I’m tucked under Max’s arm, looking up with a small smile playing on my lips. Xander to the side, looking over the photographer’s shoulder, a big smile on his face. Between us is Max, his head thrown back, laughing at some joke he’d made. We were at Scarlett’s for a barbeque. The weather acted up halfway through, so we had to rush under the large awning that jutted off the side of the O’Keefe house. My hair is plastered to my head, raindrops hanging off the flat curls that hours before I’d spent so much time twisting around a hot iron. I didn’t have the chance to wipe the mascara from under my eyes. Xander and Max’s T-shirts have darkened shoulders from the rain. I couldn’t tell you the joke Max had cracked. Only that we’d barely made it out of the rain before Max said it, throwing his arms around us both. Scarlett snapped the picture as Max got to the punchline. No one was laughing harder than Max.

The day that picture was taken, Max was recently released from jail on an assault charge. He got into a fight with a classmate of mine he thought was hitting on me. The guy pressed charges and Max was gone for three months. I ended things between us and tried to move on without Max. I’d tried to distance myself from him, but weeks after he got out, he found me again.

Until hours before that party, I told myself that it was better for me to be apart from Max. Then he showed up at my parents’ house with a bouquet of stargazer lilies. He begged me to take him back, promised he’d never hurt another person again, that he was going to stop drinking so much, and he would trust me when I said I was just friends with someone. He swore I was the only one he’s ever wanted to be with, that I was the only one who could understand him. He talked about how he wanted to take care of me, how he was going to make it all better.

That was the last time we broke up.

Staring at the picture, I thought about Xander’s face when we walked into the party, hand in hand. Xander was standing beside his girlfriend Tianna, waving his hands in the air, telling his story about when a customer’s mini pinscher had attacked him while he was trying to weed their rose garden. He told me the story weeks prior. The dog bit into his arm and Xander had to shake his arm up and down until the dog released his jaw.

Xander’s arm was frozen halfway up as he caught sight of us. His brow furrowed, and his arm slowly fell to his side. Beside me, Max was surveying the party. Xander bent down to whisper in his girlfriend’s ear and before she could respond, he jogged toward us.

“So, you guys are back together?” he asked with no preamble, pointing at our clasped hands.

Max smiled big at Xander. “Yeah, well, you can’t keep a good man down, can you?” He smacked Xander on the shoulder hard enough Xander took a step back. Max didn’t seem to notice as he looked across the lawn. “Now, where’s the keg at?”

Xander hooked his thumb behind him on the lawn. Max nodded, “Thanks man, you want to play beer pong later?”

Xander took one last look at our hands together before nodding. “Sure bro, find me later.”

Max pulled me away. Wordlessly, I followed him as he led me through the party. I spared one glance back at Xander as we walked away. He had thrown his arm over Tianna’s shoulder but was watching us, a frown on his face.

I hadn’t thought about that moment for so long. I was so caught up in starting over with Max. Soon after that party, Max and I moved in together, despite my parent’s vehement objections that they weren’t paying for my boyfriend to crash at what was effectively their place since I was currently without an income.

After that moment, I don’t think I gave Xander’s reaction another thought. He never brought it up. It was even Xander who asked us if we wanted to move into the duplex with him.

After tonight I couldn’t help but see those moments a little different. Was there something else in Xander’s reaction?

With his breaths evened out, I leaned closer and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, his blond stubble was coarse against my lips. He smelled the way he always did—of sunshine and grass. Of calm. Breathing him in deep, I settled beside him, closing my eyes.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” I spoke, my whisper filling up the darkened room.

I awoke before the sun came up. At some point, we’d turned to each other. His arm was slung over my hip, his feet wedged between mine. Xander’s face was inches from mine in the light of the moon. As delicately as he’d touched me, I traced the shape of his lips with my finger. They were inexplicably soft. In his sleep, his lips curved into a small smile, and I let my hand rest on the pillow between us. The silk of his lips scored into my skin.

Chapter six

“She's just a friend.” -Max age twenty-two.

AftermuchcajolingfromScarlett, I agreed to a haircut. Scared I’d change my mind, Scarlett got me an emergency appointment at Bei Cappelli, an upscale salon facing Freedom Bay. While we waited, the receptionist brought me a glass of champagne, that I drank faster than I meant to. By the time I had my shampoo, the tension in my shoulders was fading. Scarlett sat in the chair next to mine, not bothering to ask for permission. She chatted with my stylist, Beth, telling her all about her new crush, Emma. A name I’d never heard her say before. Or did Scarlett tell me, and I didn’t remember?

A pit formed in my stomach as I thought about how neglectful I’d been with our friendship over the past eleven months. Before, I was always the first one to know about Scarlett’s new relationships. Now, I’m hearing about it by eavesdropping on a conversation she had with her hairstylist.

Beth ran her fingers through the bottom of my hair. “Gorgeous. Could use a deep conditioning at the ends, but it’s such a lovely shade. Do you color it?”

“No, not for years. That’s all my natural color,” I answered. Through the years my hair had lightened but kept its copper tones. Max loved running his hand through my hair, flipping bits around in the sunlight, watching how the light reflected off it. He loved when I wore my hair up in a high ponytail. Grabbing the bottom of my hair, he’d twist it around his hand to pull me closer, tugging enough to get my attention. He loved my long hair.

She held up pieces in the light coming through the window. “People would kill for this thickness and color. This is the type of hair those companies use for wigs.”

I caught her eye in the mirror. “Like for kids with cancer?”

She continued to comb through my hair. “That, or there’s one for kids with severe alopecia.”

“Do you know how to send them hair?” She stopped combing through, her hand stilled mid-brush stroke.

“I do.”

Without looking at Scarlett, I squared my jaw. “Then cut it off. I don’t want it.”

She balked for a moment. “How short?”

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