Page 24 of Reckless Liar

“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Just stuff. I hit him, I said awful things. I left...” he paused, tears filling his eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to keep the tears at bay. “That was the last...” he huffed loudly—his breath ragged. “It was the last thing I ever said to him and the last time I saw him alive.”

I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arm around his waist. He hesitated for a moment before placing an arm on my shoulder. I leaned against him, fitting under his arm perfectly. “As bad as it sounds, I’m glad I’m not the only one with regrets.” I murmured.

Xander snorted at me. “I shouldn’t have punched him. I shouldn’t have pushed him to the edge like that. If only...”

“That seems to be my mantra.” I told him. “If only. If only I’d come home sooner, if only I’d talked him into staying sober. If only I’d been enough...”

“We’re a fucked-up pair of kids, aren’t we?” He tipped his head down and I could feel his lips on the top of my head, kissing my hair. Holding our bodies still, I savored the feeling of how good it felt to be loved in our fractured duplicity.

“Could you stay with me tonight?” I asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His lips moved out of my hair, his cheek pressing against my forehead. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Chapter ten

“I've never been in love.” -Xander Eberhardt, age twenty-two.

Oneyear.

Xander and I had made it through one whole year without Max.

We sat on the floor in front of the couch, a bottle of cheap whiskey and a two-liter of soda between us. I needed more of a chaser than Xander, but I’d always been a lightweight. The weather report forecasted an icy night, so we used up the last of our pellets in the stove. So far, the weather report seemed exaggerated.

Suddenly, I felt much more drunk than I did a few moments ago. The candles we lit in case of a power outage burned down lower, casting shadows on the wall as darkness fell outside.

“It’s looking allromanticalin here.“ I joked, reaching for the bottle of whiskey. The amber liquid still burned my throat, but it got easier the more I drank. I set the bottle down between us and wiped my lip with the sleeve of my sweater. “Do you want to call someone to come over and make use of the ambiance? What about that coffee-shop girl?”

I could hear my voice slurring the words, making ‘ambiance’ into an accented sound of pretension.

“Of course not, Ana,” Xander scoffed.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind.” Grabbing the hem of my sweater, I pulled it up over my head, the loose weave getting caught in my earring. My arms out of the sweater, I glanced at Xander as I set to untangling the earring.

He chuckled softly to himself but didn’t comment on my wardrobe challenges. Instead, he leaned forward, carefully pulled the dangling earring out of my ear and laid the sweater on his lap. He worked deftly to untangle the loose threads from the wire. “I haven’t even talked to Sherie since our date.”

A rush of warmth flooded through me, knowing he hadn’t called her. Bumping my shoulder against his arm, I said, “Well, you’re doing better than me on that front. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to date again.”

His jaw tensed for a moment, and he glanced away. “Let your mom know first. I’m sure she has all sorts of eligible bachelors to set you up with.”

“I’m sure she has a list. Probably several lists. I swear she’s omnipotent. Did you know the first time I tried to cut school she knew before I even got home?”

“I did.”

“Some lady from her book club saw me and called her immediately.”

“Yeah, I know. Remember? We were with you. It was you, me, Max, and Vanessa Charles.”

“Vanessa Charles. God that’s right.” I wrinkled my nose. “I hated her. She was such a bitch,” I grumbled.

“She wasn’t too bad.”

“She was awful—always pretending to be all tough, talking about all the skateboarding tricks she could do. I hate when girls do that—try to act all tough to impress a guy.”

“I don’t think she was trying to impress anyone. I think you were jealous because Vanessa had enormous boobs at fourteen, whereas you did not.”

“I was not jealous of her boobs.”

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