Page 39 of Reckless Liar

He nodded at me. Obviously torn at wanting to say more, but not wanting to scare me. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

I gathered my stuff together, throwing my jacket into the bag for later. I headed to the door, about to leave when I paused. I could feel his eyes on me as I stood there. I needed to give him more. He said he would be okay if we were just friends, but I knew we were past that point already. We had been for a while. I didn’t realize it until I was knee-deep in it. We might try to trudge back into a platonic place, but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t be “just friends” with Xander, not anymore.

I dropped my bag at the door, turning back. His eyes lit up when I faced him. I took the three steps to get to him and he met me in the middle. I reached down between us to take his hand in mine. I brought it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm. His callouses scraped against my lips in a way that churned deep within me, liquefying my insides. I breathed in the smell of sunshine and grass on his skin, savoring him. My eyes closed and I spoke into his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I need you to wait for me, okay?”

Slowly I opened my eyes to meet his. He was staring down at me. I felt my whole body unfurl in his gaze. The ground shifted beneath me and all that was keeping me upright was his gaze upon me, his hand in mine. His other hand came up to tangle in my hair, pulling my head toward him. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine. Our breaths were ragged. I struggled to get a hold of myself. We stood like that for a minute until our breaths synced together and I could open my eyes. He was staring at me with such intensity I gasped. Pulling away slightly, he brought his lips up over my nose to rest on my forehead, where he pressed a kiss to my hairline. Squeezing the back of my neck slightly, his touch sent shivers down my spine.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” he asked me. I nodded against him, as I closed my eyes, remembering what I never told Max.

Chapter sixteen

“I totally know how to cut hair.” -Scarlett O'Keefe before cutting Ana's bangs, age thirteen.

Inthesummerbeforeseventh grade, I returned to Ridgewood a week early from the summer camp I’d been attending for the fourth year in a row. Summer camp made me miserable. I was impossible on water skis. My decoupage was a sloppy mess that only a mother could compliment and even then, was relegated to the upstairs bathroom where no one would see it. I had no interest in any sort of competitions, opting instead to read thick Fear Street books in the bunker while all the other girls were playing beach volleyball. The last time I tried the game, someone yelled at me for not blocking a shot and I got so frustrated I walked off mid-game, calling the girl a bitch.

Despite my best intentions of avoiding camp activities, my downfall came in the form of a trust activity where we led a blindfolded teammate around the campground. My partner was a rail-thin girl from Utah. She led me off a small embankment where I tripped and sprained my wrist. She told me later she thought I could see out of the bottom of the blindfold like she could and assumed I’d see the drop-off before I stepped.

I spent the first two days home wearing an ace bandage and my mom bringing me lemonade. My time away from Ridgewood had done nothing to ease my issues with meeting new people and making friends. I longed for the comfort of being around Scarlett and Xander, but most of all I’d missed Max.

I called Max a few times but each time he was out. With different girls each time, according to his mother. I hadn’t realized how much it stung until I heard it myself. All that previous school year I watched as my classmates began to show signs of puberty and interest in the opposite sex.

From the moment I realized boys and girls were different, the idea of kissing a boy wasn’t completely disgusting to me and I knew I wanted Max to be my first kiss. I saw the way girls looked at him—the flirtations, chasing him around the playground, kissing him and then running away. I stood back and watched it all. I watched as Tracey Penrose pinned him against the recess wall and pushed her lips against his before turning away, giggling. I caught sight of the women on Max’s naked girl magazines that he hid under his bed—the puckered nipples and swollen breasts, the nipped waists, and long legs. All the things I could never be. While the other girls in class were allowed to wear short skirts, I was still in knee-length dresses with thick stockings. The other girls got to wear heeled jelly sandals while I had flat black Mary Janes. They got the chunky blonde highlights, straightened to a glossy shine. My mom still put my hair into two plaits each morning. Every day I felt as if I was getting farther and farther away from the other girls in my class.

Despite not hearing from Max since I’d returned, I made my way over to Queenie Hill Road once my mom begrudgingly gave me the go-ahead. I knocked a few times since the doorbell broke years before. After a few minutes and a loud crash inside followed by yelling, Dana answered the door. She looked me up and down, frowning.

“Liliana.”

“Hi Ms. Franklin. Is Max here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as polite as possible.

She pushed the screen door open further, stepping out onto the front porch. “No, sweetie, he’s not. He might be at Xander’s, might be with that tart, Hallie next door.”

I glanced at the house next door. Max mentioned there was a girl who lived there, but I couldn’t imagine why she’d want to hang out with Max. She was fifteen, a whole three years older.

“Okay, thank you” I turned to walk away before Dana coughed behind me.

“That boy has been a whole lot of trouble for me, you know that?” she asked.

I turned to face her, biting back a retort about her lackluster parenting in my throat. Max was always babysitting Eloise while Dana was out drinking. My years of lessons on manners stopped the words.

She kept going. “He keeps it up, he’s going to end up like all these other stupid kids out here. A loser. Or worse, like his good-for-nothing father.”

You’re one to talk about being a loser,I thought.

After nodding at her I made my way across the street to Xander’s house, hoping Max was there playing video games or something. Xander’s dad didn’t love having me in the house, but he didn’t seem happy about anything, so I didn’t take it personally.

I knocked on the door several times before giving up and heading to the other house. I could at least check and see if he was there. The peeling paint and cracked cement walkway were almost identical to Max’s house. Just as I was about to knock on the edge of the ripped screen door a girl opened it, her eyes getting big as she looked at me. Her eyes were dark with thick, smudged eyeliner and she wore a ripped T-shirt that hung off her shoulder and was tied right below her boobs showing off her stomach. Her jean shorts were so short the pockets hung out of the bottom. Behind her was Max, a bottle of something in his hand.

“Can I help you?” she asked disdainfully.

“Uh,” I stammered.

“Hey Ana! It’s cool, Hallie. She’s a friend.”

Hallie eyed me cautiously, obviously not liking what she saw. When I left the house, my flower tee and white shorts felt so nice. Now, standing in front of Hallie with her cleavage and curvy hips, I felt like I was a preschooler. Hallie gave me a chin nod that I assumed was a greeting.

Max stepped around Hallie and onto the front porch. “Uh, so Hallie and I were going to go...”

“Don’t tell her! God, Max, she’ll probably tell her daddy.”

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