Liar Liar Read online

  My face must have betrayed me because he studied me for a second, and his smirk dropped. “I’m not talking about me. Trust me.” His gaze hardened. “But not everyone in CH is a complete dick. People just tend to stick to their own. All you have to do is figure out where you belong. See you around, new girl.”

  Math guy slipped into the crowd as it dispersed at the sound of the principal’s voice. I probably needed to get out of there too, but with my heart in my shoes, I was pretty much rooted to the spot. When he'd spoken to me, a part of me had hoped he might be taking pity on me. People had been less than welcoming since I arrived. No one went out of their way to be mean or anything—yet—but, in a way, that stung even more. Throwing insults and stabby looks my way would have at least meant people noticed me. At the moment, I was barely visible. Sure, I never expected it to be easy, but I didn't expect this either. Maybe Math guy was right; I just needed to find my people.

  And in Montecito, my people had been the popular kids.

  In a moment of fresh determination—or complete insanity—I didn't slink out of the cafeteria at lunch. Instead, I gripped my tray and weaved through the tables until I reached the last cluster at the back of the room.

  “Are you lost?”

  Everyone stopped talking and turned to me. It felt like the whole room had quieted. Maybe it had. Maybe this was the most stupid idea I’d ever had. But it was too late to back out now. I was here, and they were all watching me. Swallowing down the nerves clawing up my throat, I smiled and said, “Hey, I'm Becca. I just transferred to Credence.”

  “We know who you are,” a dark-haired girl with a short pixie cut answered, her narrowed eyes sweeping over me. Her lips pursed as her steely gaze landed on the charm bracelet wrapped around my wrist. She looked fierce; the harsh kohl outlining her eyes matched the irritation in her voice and the black boots covering her feet. We were like polar opposites—she was intimidating and alluring in that sexy-vixen kind of way, and I looked like I was going to have afternoon tea at the Yacht Club in my cropped jeans, navy striped tee, and pristine white sneakers. What the hell was I thinking?

  Ugh. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. But I couldn’t show them—her—that. Not now that I’d made my bed and entered their world. So I did the only thing I could. I met her severe glare with a brighter smile. “I wondered if I could join you for lunch?”

  Sliding her foot over the chair, she leaned forward onto her knees. Not bothering to smooth out her skirt, she flashed her black panties to everyone. “Do you see any spare seats?” Her eyes moved over the tables her friends occupied, and someone snickered, causing a red flush to work its way up my neck.

  I tried my best not to look at the two empty seats right in front of her. “Maybe another time.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t stick around to break down in front of them. That would have to wait until I was somewhere private like the girls’ bathroom. Clutching my tray, I spun on my heels and started walking away. As if my embarrassment wasn’t enough, she had to kill the last shred of hope I had at having any kind of social life at Credence High.

  “By the way, love the outfit.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Eyes set ahead, I fought the urge to throw my tray and get the hell out of there. Back in Montecito, I was popular, but I was never mean. Sure, some of our group thought being at the top of the social ladder gave them the right to do whatever the hell they wanted, but it wasn't my style. I was friends with everyone. The Pixie had looked at me as if I was nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of her boot. Way to go, Becca.

  As I crossed the room, I felt their eyes—their judgment—burn into me. But it was nothing compared to the whispering I heard as I dumped my tray and hurried out of the cafeteria.

  How pathetic.

  Who does she think she is?

  Didn’t she get the memo that this isn’t the 90210?

  Rushing out of the door, I almost collided with someone. Math guy stepped into my path, and I ground to a halt. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” I clutched a hand to my racing heart, gasping for breath.

  “Piece of advice. Stay away from Kendall and her crew.”

  “W-who?”

  “The evil pixie who just handed you your ass in front of everyone.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyes lingered on me as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't. Running a hand through his hair, he swerved around me and headed into the cafeteria, while I stood there wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Something changed after the cafeteria incident.

  For the rest of the week, wherever I went and whatever classes I found myself in, the low rumble of voices and snickers followed. I tried not to let it get to me—I was the new girl, after all. Until people gave me a chance, I was an outsider. Acceptance had to be earned. Sure, my little run-in with Kendall was a temporary setback, but I could still make it work … Until I discovered that the Evil Pixie was Kendall O’Hare, Queen Bee and Head Bitch of Credence High. She wasn’t going away anytime soon, and because I had some bad karma biting me in the ass, last period on Friday she walked into English with her friends. Their eyes fell on me for a second before they continued to their desks like I was nothing. Nobody.

  Invisible.

  “Way to go, new girl,” a guy said beside me, and I turned, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you did to piss off Kendall but smooth, real smooth.”

  “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?” I hissed back.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger. I’m just saying … you picked the wrong girl to mess with.”

  Mess with? I hadn’t done a damn thing except try to sit with them at lunch. And I wore that stupid outfit.

  “Whatever,” I replied, angling myself away from him. My eyes found Kendall a couple of rows in front of me with her arm wrapped tightly around the huge arm of the guy seated beside her. She laughed at something he said, ducking her head into his jersey when the teacher threw them a scowl. Too busy watching them, I missed the paper projectile headed for me until it landed on my desk. I glanced around in hopes of catching the offender, but no one was looking my way.

  My stomach bottomed out, and I looked around out of the corner of my eye again. Balling the note back up, I slipped it into my pocket, acting as if nothing had happened. The teacher issued more instructions, and I followed along, answering each section from the textbook while paying no attention to my racing heart. It was just a prank, just something to shake me up.

  And then another ball landed on my desk.

  Whipping around, the girl seated directly behind me arched her eyebrow, clearly annoyed that I dared to look at her. I moved my gaze to the guy seated beside her, but he was paying me no attention, busy writing his answers. My fingers trembled as I smoothed out the paper.

  My eyes widened the same time my heart catapulted into my throat, and a gasp escaped my lips. What the hell…

  “Miss Torrence, is there a problem?” the teacher boomed across the room, and I slouched down in my seat trying to avoid a scene.

  Too late.

  Everyone looked at me, but no one’s eyes burned into me more than Kendall’s did. It was impossible that she’d thrown the notes, but the look of smug satisfaction on her face told me she knew exactly what was going on.

  “Miss Torrence?”

  “Hmm, no, sir,” I stuttered, pressing further into the chair while wishing the floor would swallow me up.

  “Good, well, if I may continue.”

  Dropping my eyes, I inhaled a sharp breath. One week in this place and I was already falling apart. I needed to get a grip. But it was a double blow to start a new school and be an out-of-towner. I don’t know how my classmates knew. Mom drove me to school in the used Ford Mac arranged for us. It wasn’t anything special, and I’d left most of my old clothes behind. A fresh start hadn’t only meant a new town and new house. The old Becca was gone. Now, I was jeans-wearing B
ecca. Okay, so most of my jeans were True Religion, but surely, I wasn’t going to be hated on for my choice of designer?

  Who was I kidding? I knew what kids could be like, and once they made up their mind about something—someone—it was almost impossible to change it. The sound of the bell was a welcomed noise. Grabbing my bag, I filed out of the room along with everyone else, not sparing my classmates a second glance as I made my way out of the building and to the parking lot.

  “Hey, baby, how was your day?”

  Peering through the window, I muttered, “Okay.” Opening the door, I slid inside and dumped my bag between my feet.

  “Uh-oh.” Amusement laced Mom’s voice. “Who pissed you off?”

  “Mom!” I gasped. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  She laughed. “We both know no one cussed better than your grams did, God bless her soul. Now, talk to me, Becca. What happened?”

  “It’s nothing.” I turned my head away from her, hoping to hide the thickness in my voice.

  “It’s not nothing.”

  “It’s just different is all.”

  “We knew Credence was going to be different, baby. We just all need to give it a chance. It’ll take time, but I have a good feeling about this place.”

  That made one of us.

  Mom was ever the optimist, but when life handed you everything you’d ever wanted, what was there to be jaded about? I’d been the same—before—but now, it felt like finding my way again was an insurmountable task. I didn’t fit in at Credence High, that much was clear. And the notes in class confirmed my fear … I stood out more than I hoped I would.

  But they didn’t know the sacrifices my family had made to give me a second chance.

  What I’d been through.

  They didn’t know a single thing about me.

  “Becca?” Mom’s voice pulled me from my depressing thoughts. “You can tell me if something happened.”

  I turned to her and let out an exasperated breath. “It was nothing really, just guys being guys. You’re right; it’s just going to take time. I’ll get there. I want to make this work, Mom.”

  She reached over and squeezed my knee. “That’s the spirit. Now, what do you want to eat? Dad and I thought it might be nice to go out and explore. Find a nice restaurant maybe.”

  “Sure, Mom, sounds good.”

  It wasn’t as if I had any plans or anything.

  Mac recommended a cute little Italian place downtown for dinner. Parking had been a nightmare, but we had finally found a spot on a one-way street, and we walked the rest of the way.

  “This is nice, don’t you think, Geary?”

  “It’s…” He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “Different.”

  I spied Mom elbowing him in the ribs, and he gasped, clutching his side. “Melinda, what in—”

  Throwing him her best ‘mom stare,’ he cleared his throat, spluttering, “Oh yes, yes, it’s very nice. I think we’ll settle quite well here.”

  “You guys,” I said. “You don’t need to do this. I’m fine, really. School is fine. Credence is fine. Everything. Is. Fine.”

  The only thing Dad wasn’t wrong about was that Credence was worlds apart from Montecito. With its Mediterranean-style buildings and palm tree lined streets, it made this place look like the ghetto.

  “Becca, baby.” Mom linked her arm through mine and nestled close. “We just want you to be happy. After everything ...” she trailed off, and I leaned my head against hers as we walked arm in arm down the street.

  “I know, Mom, but you don’t need to tread on eggshells around me. I’m fine, really, or at least, I will be. This is my fresh start, and I intend to make the most of it.”

  If I kept lying to myself, then maybe, one day, I’d believe it.

  “We’re damn proud of you, Becca.” The emotion in Dad’s voice surprised me. He’d found the whole ordeal difficult to deal with—watching his daughter go through something like I had, having to listen to me admit everything—but he’d been there for me in ways I would never forget. If it wasn’t for him, life could have turned out very differently for me.

  “Mac said the place is called Amalfi’s, right?” I pointed at a place across the street. A huge glass window with white lettering and thick red velvet curtains pulled back gave way to bistro-style tables and chairs.

  “Ooh, it looks wonderful,” Mom crooned. A little taste of Montecito and she was easily pleased, but I had a feeling it was going to take Dad and me longer to adjust.

  About to agree, I found my gaze landing on a building further along, and the words died on my tongue. It stood alone on a lot between two side streets. The typical-looking diner had a sign hanging above the door flashing Shake ‘n’ Pass, only the P was out, so it read Shake ‘n’ ass. But the unfortunate name wasn’t what drew my attention. It was the crowd of people gathered around a bench outside. Kendall O’Hare was hanging off the guy she’d been with in class. He leaned over her almost pressing her flat onto the bench, kissing her hungrily. I dropped my gaze, but it was too late.

  “Do you know them? We could go over and say hello?” Mom said.

  “W- what?”

  “That group of kids over there.” She nudged her head in the direction of the diner as we crossed the street. Kendall no longer had her tongue rammed down the guy’s throat. Instead, she was looking right at me. Although look didn’t do justice to the death glare she was sending my way.

  What the hell is her problem?

  “Do they go to school with you?”

  “Something like that,” I murmured, dropping my eyes again.

  “We could go and say hello. Maybe after we get finished, you could go and—”

  “No, no,” I said a little too sharply. “They’re just some guys in my class. I don’t really know them. It’s fine. Let’s go eat; I’m starving.”

  “Oh, okay then.” Mom didn’t hide her disappointment well. All she wanted was for me to settle in—to find new friends and find myself again—and part of me felt bad for not making more of an effort. After all, she and Dad had given up everything—their whole lives—for me.

  Because of me.

  We walked in thick silence the rest of the way to the restaurant, the last few months weighing heavily on us all.

  “Welcome to Amalfi’s, do you have a reservation?” the host asked as we entered. Dad stepped forward and replied, “Yes, it’s Torrence, table for three.”

  “Excellent.” He checked us off his list. “This way please.”

  Mom pressed her hand into my back, urging me forward as if she was worried I might bolt. I understood her concern, but I was done hiding. Almost three months in therapy, trying to come to terms with everything, had been enough. I really did want to make Credence work. I just wasn’t sure it was going to be that easy. Not now that I had spent a week at Credence High.

  We settled into our seats, and Dad ordered our usual drinks. “So, Becca, how’s school?” he asked.

  Since arriving in town, he hadn’t been around much. After turning over his gun and captain’s badge, Mac had given Dad a job at his local private investigator’s office. It wasn’t the same as police work, but he had many transferable skills, and Mac assured Dad there was plenty of work around these parts. Apparently, much to Mom’s disappointment, PI’s worked just as many hours as cops did.

  “Geary,” Mom warned, but I shook my head. “It’s fine, Mom. School is …” I swallowed hard. “Different.”

  Dad’s eyes softened. He got it. He’d said the same thing earlier. “We knew it was going to be a stark change to Montecito.”

  “I know. It’s just going to take some time.”

  Dad changed the conversation after that, and I was grateful. I didn’t want to ruin dinner by admitting that I had yet to make a single friend. That I spent the whole week ducking and dodging Kendall and her friends. They wouldn’t understand.

  “Well, we have forever.” The look on Mom’s face told me she meant it as a positive remark, but I c
ouldn’t help but wince at her words.

  Forever.

  My forever was supposed to be senior year with my friends. We were supposed to graduate together and spend hot sticky summer days at the beach before parting ways to head off to college.

  “Excuse me,” I said, fighting back the tears. Don’t let them see you cry. “I’m going to find the restrooms.” My feet carried me toward the back of the restaurant on autopilot, away from the stares of the two people who had proved their unconditional love for me in ways no parent should. I couldn’t fall apart in front of them. Not again. Not after everything. I had to be stronger. To find a way to can my feelings, just like I’d talked about with my therapist.

  “Whoa, there.” Strong hands steadied me as I all but stumbled through the door to the restrooms.

  “Math guy?” spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

  “Math guy?” He gripped my shoulders for another second, his lips quirking up, before he released me. I stepped back, putting some distance between us.

  “Well, yeah.” I hugged myself tight. “We’re in math; you’re a guy … Math guy.”

  “Right,” he drawled in an amused tone, and my whole body burned with embarrassment … and something else. Something I absolutely did not want to acknowledge. He was too … too everything. Brooding. Mysterious. Everything about him screamed bad boy, and I did not need that in my life right now. Not again.

  Not ever.

  “What are you doing here?”

  His eyebrows knitted together, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Getting pizza. What are you doing here?” It sounded almost accusatory.

  “My parents brought me out for dinner.”

  “Cute.”