These Dirty Lies Read online

  “Yo, assholes.”

  The sound of Kye’s voice loosened something inside of me.

  “Everything good with Clo?” I asked.

  “As good as it can be. She drives me in-fucking-sane. I wouldn’t be surprised if she turns up later, drunk off her ass. What’d I miss?”

  “Cherri tried to lock Nix down for the night.”

  “She’s not someone you want to mess with, Wilder.” Kye lifted a brow. “That girl is a different breed.”

  “Relax. I can handle the likes of Cherri.”

  “If you say so, man.” He chuckled, grabbing a beer. “So, school Monday. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Seniors.” Kye whistled between his teeth as he uncapped his beer. “Part of me didn’t think we’d ever make it here.”

  “Yeah.” I stared off into the distance.

  The final year of high school. When you attended a school like Darling Hill High, that was an achievement in itself. By senior year, half the class was usually knocked up, hooked on meth, or too hungover to show up for class.

  “Did you call Coach back?”

  “Nah. Do I look like the type of guy who goes to college on a full ride?”

  “Come on, Nix. You’re good enough, you got to know that. You could go all the way, and—”

  “Leave it, Carter. I came here to drown my sorrows, not fucking analyze the shit out of them.”

  “And I came here to get laid.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “So I’ll be seeing you two later.”

  “Horndog,” Zane grumbled, watching as Kye slipped into the crowd with ease.

  He was different to me and Zane. Lighter. More approachable. Like a chameleon, he could adapt to his surroundings and make himself blend in. Sometimes I envied him; his ability to walk into a room and have people gravitate to him. But not because they wanted something from him… because they wanted to be around him.

  I’d long forgotten what it felt like to have people genuinely interested in me. They were interested in my game stats, or my dick, or the fact I could hook them up with a keg or smoke.

  Wilder was a name that meant something in The Row, and ninety-nine percent of the people I knew wanted to exploit that.

  “Senior year, Nix.” Zane let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing his jaw. “That’s some fucked up shit right there. We’re at the top of the food chain now.” A feral grin tugged at his mouth.

  But I didn’t share his enthusiasm. Because the problem with being at the top—it was a fucking long way down.

  And the fall was inevitable.

  “After last year’s success with the Hawks, you know Coach is gonna be riding you hard this season.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “And if the call does come for college?”

  I snorted. “Seriously, drop that fucking shit.” Guys like me didn’t get out of a place like The Row.

  “It could happen, Nix. Coach said Albany U were interested.”

  I accepted the blunt off Zane, and took a deep hit, letting the smoke roll through my lungs. His premium weed was about the only thing that calmed me down these days. Until school was back and I could take out my aggression on the field.

  Summer practice had barely taken the edge off. I needed to be in the gym daily, running drills, and burning off some of the pent-up energy inside me. I needed the distraction. The tether to something real.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not,” I grumbled, taking another hit before handing it back to Zane. I didn’t want to talk about senior year, about what came after we graduated. Not tonight. Not ever.

  I had enough to deal with.

  “How’re things at home?” he asked, and I shot him a hard look. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t want to talk about it. But last time he—”

  “Drop it.”

  “We’re worried, bro.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “That’s what we’re worried about.”

  “Yeah, well quit it,” I grumbled.

  “Come on, Nix, it’s—”

  “FIGHT!” someone yelled, and the air shifted as kids rushed toward the commotion.

  But we stayed put. It wasn’t anything we hadn’t seen a hundred times already.

  “You know DA will be gunning for blood this season,” Kye said, referring to the private school on the other side of town. We had a long-standing rivalry with their football team, the Devils.

  Last season, we’d kicked their asses on and off the field. Rumor was Marc Denby was their captain this year and there was no love lost between the two of us.

  “He can bring it.” I shrugged, staring toward the tree line. Beyond it lay Old Darling Hill.

  One town separated by the reservoir and a mass of trees. Although they might as well have been two separate continents for the differences between them.

  Old Darling Hill was rich. Filthy fucking rich. A neighborhood of gated houses and perfectly tended lawns. Huge fucking estates with acres of land and housekeepers. Their kids attended Darling Academy and only ever wandered over to our side of town when they were looking for a fight or to live on the wild side.

  They hated us and we fucking loathed them. After the fights and revenge pranks, it was a surprise that the school board hadn’t already forced our teams into different divisions. We knew Coach Farringdon had repeatedly petitioned for it over the years.

  “Shit,” Kye appeared, a murderous expression on his face. “Why can’t she ever fucking listen?” He stormed off toward Chloe who was weaving through the crowd.

  “I’m so fucking relieved I don’t have to deal with that,” Zane said.

  The two of them started arguing, Chloe’s hands waving wildly in front of her while Kye glowered.

  “Yep. Rather him than me.” But as I said the words, an unwanted feeling rose inside me.

  I didn’t know what it was like to have a brother or sister to protect and watch over. But there had been a girl once.

  My best friend.

  Ex-best friend now.

  Harleigh Wren Maguire.

  Jesus. I didn’t let myself think about her often. Didn’t let myself think about her at all.

  She was gone. Had been for a while.

  And she wasn’t ever coming back.

  But it didn’t stop me from dreaming, imagining what it would be like to see her again. To stare down into her bewitching green eyes.

  Nine months had passed since I saw her last.

  Nine fucking months.

  Some days, I didn’t know how I’d survived without her. But I was a fighter. A survivor. I didn’t need Harleigh or Cherri or anyone else except my best friends and my plans to make it through senior year.

  “Yo, Nix, where’d you go just now?” Zane asked.

  “Nowhere.”

  “Don’t do it to yourself, man. It isn’t worth it.”

  I didn’t need to tell him what I’d been thinking because he knew.

  He always fucking knew.

  “Yeah, I know.” I sighed, running a hand over my head and down the back of my neck. “Sometimes, it hits me.”

  Even after nine fucking months, it didn’t hurt any less.

  “Are you going to intervene in that, or should I?” Zane tipped his head toward Kye and an irate Chloe.

  Muttering a curse under my breath, I headed in their direction. “Clo,” I said.

  “Oh, hey, Nix. Can we—”

  “No, Chloe.” Kye leveled her with a death stare. “I said let me handle it.”

  “Handle what?”

  “Nothing, man. Come on, let’s get another drink and chill. It’s not important.”

  “He’d want to know, asshole.”

  “Chloe Mirabelle Carter, I swear to God—”

  “Want to know what?” My brows pinched as I glanced between them. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He deserves to know.” Pity glinted in Chloe’s eyes.

  My heart kicked up a gear, crashing against my rib cage, and I knew… fucking knew whateve
r she was about to say would change everything.

  I hadn’t realized how much five little words would rock me to the core until I heard them.

  “She’s back, Nix. Harleigh’s back.”

  Harleigh

  The blue and gray plaid skirt barely kissed my thighs.

  “Are you sure this is standard school issue?” I asked Celeste.

  “Right? I complained to Principal Diego twice last year. It’s so misogynistic to expect us to wear these miniskirts while the guys get to walk around in slacks. Hello,” she sang. “So much for equal rights.”

  “I think I’m going to put a pair of shorts on underneath.” I went to my dresser and pulled out some plain black bootie shorts.

  “I’m not sure Principal D will like that.”

  “Principal D can kiss my ass. Pun intended.”

  Celeste snorted. “Who are you and what have you done with the Harleigh I know and love?”

  I smiled, barely meeting her eyes. If she didn’t look too closely maybe she wouldn’t see that this was a front. Smile. Laugh. Throw out a sassy comment or two. Give off the impression that I wasn’t on the verge of puking my breakfast up over my pristine new uniform.

  The skirt was too short, the blouse too form fitting, and the knee-high socks were… Well, I didn’t have words to describe the navy-blue socks with gray trim. If Principal Diego had set out to make the female pupils of DA look like porn stars dressed up as high school teenagers, he’d succeeded.

  The whole thing bordered on indecent.

  But as I followed Celeste downstairs, none of the adults—my father, Sabrina, or Mrs. Beaker, the housekeeper—batted an eye.

  “My, my,” Michael said, folding his morning newspaper and locking eyes with me. “Now there’s a sight I thought I’d never see.” He winced at his choice of words, but I didn’t let him see my own surprise. “Sorry, that was—”

  “It’s fine. We should probably go,” I said, not wanting to drag things out any longer than necessary. “We don’t want to be late.”

  “Celeste, watch out for Harleigh please.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  Dad.

  I bristled.

  “Aren’t you waiting for Max?” Sabrina asked.

  “Nope. He can ride with the Vaughns next door.”

  “Celeste, you know—”

  “Bye, Mom. See you later. ‘Come on,’” Celeste mouthed at me, and we took off down the hall. She grabbed the keys off the sideboard, and we slipped outside.

  “We can wait for Max,” I said.

  “Are you kidding? It’s your first morning. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him ride with us.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smirked, yanking open the door to her car. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I climbed inside, smoothing out the hem of my skirt, or lack thereof. There had been no uniform at Darling Hill High so this was new. Although, I figured it was a damn sight better than having to play the designer label game with my classmates.

  At least in a uniform, I would blend in. With any luck, I would blend in so well I quickly became invisible.

  “Are you nervous?” Celeste asked as she turned on the ignition and started backing out of the driveway.

  It blew my mind that her car was worth more than anything I’d ever owned or lived in. It had been a seventeenth birthday present a few weeks ago. I didn’t know much about cars, but from the sleek lines and leather trim I could tell it was expensive, so I’d googled it.

  The custom Range Rover Evoque had cost a cool fifty thousand dollars.

  Fifty. Thousand. Freaking. Dollars.

  But it was a drop in the ocean for people like my father and Sabrina. During my time in Albany Hills, I’d learned a lot about my new family. Michael Rowe, only son to Thomas and Geraldine Rowe, was the CEO of Rowe Real Estate, a company dating back to the early nineteen hundreds. His grandfather and great-grandfather practically built Darling Hill and the surrounding townships. The Delacortes were as equally wealthy, Sabrina’s father a successful investor. Together, they were a local power couple.

  “Harleigh?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you were nervous.”

  Nervous didn’t really begin to cover how I felt about starting senior year at Darling Academy. I’d grown up despising the kids across the reservoir. It wasn’t a silly little rivalry between Darling Hill High and Darling Academy, it was a deep-seated hatred. A history steeped in inequality, injustice, and prejudice.

  The families living in The Row were long forgotten by their richer counterparts on the other side of the reservoir. Over the years, Old Darling Hill had flourished. Thrived. It had received constant investment and renewal. While The Row had been left to rot.

  And now I was one of them. Plucked from my life of poverty and strife and planted into this… this rich man’s paradise.

  It made my skin fucking crawl, shame constantly coiled around my heart like a barbed wire. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t like Celeste or Max or their obscenely rich friends.

  I was from The Row. I knew struggle and hardship. I knew what it was like to starve because there was no food in the cupboards, or to sleep cold because your mom couldn’t afford to have the hole repaired in the trailer roof.

  So no, nervous didn’t begin to describe how I felt about being stuffed into this pristine uniform, riding in Celeste’s fifty-thousand-dollar car to one of the most expensive private schools in the state.

  But I didn’t say any of that.

  Not a word.

  Because although I didn’t belong here… I didn’t belong in The Row anymore either.

  “I’m fine,” I said, rubbing my hands down my skirt again. Repetitive actions… the feel of the soft filaments under my fingers grounded me. Held me in the moment.

  “If anyone says anything—”

  “Celeste, I said I’m fine.” I snapped.

  She let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m only trying to help. I know this can’t be easy.”

  Glancing over at her, I forced my lips into a smile. “No, I’m sorry. You’re right, I am a little nervous. But I’ll be okay.” I’d survived worse. Far worse.

  But Darling Academy came into view, like a hidden castle bursting out of the swathe of chestnut oaks.

  I’d been here once before. To watch the Darling Hill Hawks football team play the Darling Academy Devils. But the school bus had driven in through the separate entrance for the football stadium, so I hadn’t really gotten a good look at the school buildings.

  “It’s beautiful, right?” Celeste said, and I nodded, still gawking at the scene before me.

  Darling Academy was a collection of pristinely restored old buildings surrounded by oak trees. It reminded me of Harvard or Princeton.

  “It’s not so bad, I promise. Strip away the Prada handbags, sports cars, and trust funds, and you’re left with a high school full of kids just trying to figure out who they are and what they want to do with their lives.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t voice my disagreement. This was an entirely different world to the one I’d grown up in.

  Celeste followed the stream of expensive cars into the parking lot and found an empty spot. “Okay.” She cut the engine and looked over at me. “Ready?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “You’ve got a meeting with Principal Diego first, right?” I nodded and she went on, “So I’ll walk you to the administrative building and then Mrs. Farrell will show you to your first class.”

  “Got it.” I clenched a fist, willing my hand to stop trembling.

  It was just school.

  Senior year.

  Nine months before I could walk out of here and never look back.

  I could do it.

  I could.

  Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

  I had nothing left to lose.

  “Ah, Miss Rowe, come in.”

  The word clanged through
me like the slam of a door or the shatter of glass.

  Rowe.

  Rowe.

  Rowe.

  He’d called me Miss Rowe.

  “It’s Maguire. Miss Maguire.”

  Something akin to surprise flashed over his expression, but he quickly forced his mouth into a smile. “Yes, of course. My apologies, Miss Maguire. Please, take a seat.”

  Principal Diego was exactly as Celeste had described him. An older man with bushy gray eyebrows, a thick neck, and a leering gaze that seemed to run over my body like a hundred tiny spiders crawling over my skin.

  A shudder rolled through me as I pressed my hands over my knees in an attempt to better cover myself.

  “How are you feeling? Any first day jitters?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good, that’s very good.” He steepled his fingers and sat a little taller. All the better to see me with, no doubt.

  “I understand from your father that you are much better now and ready to embark on your senior year with what I hope will be a smile on your face and a spring in your step.”

  Was this guy for real?

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, instead counting the circles on the geometrical print hanging on the wall behind him. So many circles looped together, in and around each other.

  One… two… three… four—

  “Miss Maguire?” He cleared his throat, those bushy brows drawn tightly.

  “Sorry, yes. Absolutely. Smile and spring.”

  His voice was a nasally drawl as if he had something stuck in the back of his throat. “Yes, well, I’m sure you’re going to fit right in here at DA. We’re one of the best schools in the state and our extracurricular program is quite impressive. Do you play any sports, Miss Maguire? Or perhaps you’re more of a creative? Art? Drama? Maybe even the debate team? If you’re anything like your father, I’m sure you’d be an—”

  “I’m not. I mean, I’m sure I’ll find something.”

  “I have no doubts.” He smiled but it did little to ease the tangled knot in my stomach.

  “If you have any problems settling in, you can come directly to me or visit our guidance teacher Miss Hanley. She’s down the hall.”