She pulled back from the guy’s face but kept her hands on his cheeks as she turned to look at me. Her smile grew wide, and I took a step back.

“You wanna join?” Her high‐pitched laugh turned my stomach, and I shook my head as I spun around, nearly running into Abel. “I knew you weren’t completely worthless.”

“It’s the drugs. Just ignore her,” he whispered, but I even as I tried to feel anger instead of sadness, tears filled my eyes. It was an odd relief for the dryness of my high, and I wanted to let everything out but not in front of this guy. I refused to look like any more of a fucking loser. I didn’t need to do anything, though; Trish took care of that for me. It was high school all over again.

“Whatever. It’s not like Brock would care anyway. He never even calls you.” She made a snorting sound as she laughed, and I found it fitting that she sounded like a pig as she made fun of me. The guys on the couch didn’t seem to care about the ugliness she spewed, because she was pretty on the outside, and that’s all that ever mattered.

I pushed by Abel and stopped in front of the door. I couldn’t just leave her there. I wasn’t that kind of person. Instead I turned toward the other archway and walked into a small kitchen.

My eyes fixed on a tan piece of trim that looked severely out of place in the dilapidated house. I glanced at the refrigerator, and my stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Abel’s voice was hushed, and the smell of weed and his cologne filled the musky room. I nodded, feeling like a fool for not leaving.

He walked around me and pulled open a cupboard. Inside was a plastic grocery bag full of goodies. He placed it on the island and smiled as he looked at me.

“Always be prepared.” He pulled out a box of cookies and a bag of chips.

“You’re a Boy Scout. I think I liked you better when I thought you were crazy,” I joked, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I never said I wasn’t crazy.” His eyebrows rose as he held up the cookies. I nodded, and he slid over to me as he pulled a small bottle from the bag. He twisted off the cap and popped a pill into his mouth.

“She’s not normally like this.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain Trish to Abel.

“I know what she’s like.” He didn’t elaborate, and my heart sank as I realized he probably knew Trish very well. Everyone did. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that she was preparing for a gang bang in the next room either.

I took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, my eyes falling closed as I savored the deliciousness.

“Good, huh?” He grabbed one from the pack and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t intend for the question to sound rude, but my filter seemed to flicker on and off.

“Same reason you are.”

“I didn’t know this was where I was going, or I probably wouldn’t have come.”

“Well…” His eyes shimmered as the moonlight caught them. “I’m glad you didn’t know.” My heart thumped double time in my chest before he continued. “It can suck baby‐sitting those assholes alone.”

“I know the feeling.” I rolled my eyes and finished my cookie as Trish called out from the other room and the music grew louder. “Help yourself to the snacks.” He sat the bottle on the counter, and the pills rattled.

He smirked and left the kitchen to see what she wanted. Morbid curiosity wanted me to follow, but I took another cookie and waited, not wanting to be tormented by Trish.

Abel was a good guy, here for his friend, just like I was. I let my imagination drift as I pictured him lying on a surfboard, his hands dipping into water that matched the color of his eyes. He seemed like he had no cares whatsoever. I wondered why he’d ever need to see a shrink. It didn’t make any sense. I picked up the pill bottle and read the label. He was on Vicodin now, and I knew I’d just become his baby‐sitter as well. The giggling and cheers grew louder, and I grabbed a cookie as I walked past the stairs to the living room. Abel was on the love seat, where I’d seen him when I’d first come in. Now Trish was straddling his lap and dancing to “Boom” by Anjulie.

It clicked. In that second it made sense. Abel didn’t seem like that type of guy because he was pretending, just like I was. He was a lie. Or maybe I wanted to see kindness in someone else because it was so rare in my life. Not that I could blame or judge him. I was no different. We were the same and so very, very different.

“Stop being a whore, and come play a game with us,” Trish said.

“Wouldn’t want to give you any competition.” Hilarious choice of words coming from a girl who’d made out with three strangers tonight. They weren’t strangers to her, though. I was the stranger. I was the one on the outside. My mind drifted back to truth or dare with Brock.

“What game?” I asked, hating myself for following the crowd, but what choice did I have? This was Lie, the popular girl. I wasn’t a loser anymore and could prove it.

“Spin the bottle.” Trish glanced over her shoulder and winked as Abel’s hands slid over his hips.

“That’s a kids’ game.”

Chapter Three

Stutter

“Have you ever even kissed a guy, Lie?” Trish was running her hands over Abel’s chest.

“You kn‐know I have,” I replied quietly as Adam stepped closer to me and brushed my hair over my shoulder.

“I’ll kiss you.” He took another step, his hand gliding over his stomach and down over his jeans.

“You’re gross,” I snapped, and Abel laughed, loud and deep.

“Leave her the fuck alone, Adam. She’s not interested in you.” His eyes met mine, and it felt like something was implied by his statement, and it pissed me off. “She has a boyfriend,” he said with a sarcastic smirk.

Thank you, Trish, for bringing up Brock.My insides boiled. I just wanted to escape my past for one damn night. Was that too much to ask?

“I’ll play,” I said, my voice coming out strong and confident. All part of the lie. I felt like an idiot for trying to fit in with these people.

“That’s my girl!” Trish slid off Abel’s lap, and he ran his hand along his strong jaw before sliding off the couch and sitting across from me. Adam was at my side, and Trish was on the other. The other guy was relaxing on the couch, his hand still in his pants as he stroked himself. I wanted to vomit.

I grabbed the empty vodka bottle from the floor and laid it on its side. I tried not to look at Abel as I spun it. It rotated endlessly, and I felt like an idiot for spinning it so hard. When it stopped I glanced up at green‐blue eyes, and Abel smiled as I looked over at Trish, and my heart sank a little.

“Get over here, you little slut!” She pushed to her knees, nearly falling over as she scooted toward me. I swallowed hard as I met her halfway and pressed my lips against hers. Her gloss tasted like cherries and cigarettes. I tried to look unaffected as she slid the tip of her tongue over my bottom lip to elicit cheers from the guys.

“I knew you had it in you.” Trish swiped her thumb below her lip to fix her makeup as she winked and sat back next to Abel.

Trish spun next, and the bottle landed on Adam. He smirked as his hands slid into her hair. Their kiss was loud and sloppy, and I blushed as I glanced at Abel. The air in the room was changing, charged with sexual tension.

Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable as they clawed at each other’s clothing. Abel cleared his throat, and they broke apart.

“My turn,” I said, and grabbed the bottle. I spun and tried my best to keep my gaze off the stormy ocean eyes across from me. As the neck slowed and stopped in front of Abel, my heart thudded against my chest like it was trying to break free. I rose to my knees, but Abel didn’t move, and I was losing my nerve. “You could at least meet me halfway.” I didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but if he expected me to throw myself on him like Trish did with Adam, he was going to be disappointed. He just watched me. I was humiliated.

“Ugh. You’re such a child,” Trish groaned.

As I watched her leg slide over Abel’s lap and her nails slide through his messy beach hair, I realized I’d never be her. I wasn’t that good of a pretender. Her lips pressed hard against Abel’s, and I felt my stomach turn. Why did everyone like her so much? What was so good about Trish Wentworth that I didn’t have?

I got up from the circle and made my way into the kitchen. I vaguely heard Adam moan about not getting his chance with me, and I rolled my eyes as I stood in front of the kitchen island. This was supposed to be different, and I was being the same old Delilah. I grabbed the pill bottle and dumped a few in my hand before popping them into my mouth and dry‐swallowing them. A pill lodged in my throat, and I dug around in the bag until my hands landed on a bottle of Gatorade. I chugged it down, freeing the pill from its spot.

I was a doormat on a bad day and a baby‐sitter on the few good ones. Trish didn’t view me as an equal, and I never saw her as being mine either. We used each other like everyone else on the planet, and I just took a while to see it. I grabbed the box of cookies and made my way to the front porch, where I sunk down on the old wooden steps and stared up at the moon. It wasn’t quite full, but it was enormous.

I ate a cookie as I thought about Marie. I could see the disapproval in her face now as I told her all about this night. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t see that look from her. She was the only one I truly had, and even that was just means to an end. I needed to get over Brock, or his memory would kill me. Marie was using me as well; I was a paycheck.

“You should see what the hell is going on in there.” Abel stumbled out of the door laughing, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he sat beside me, using my knee as a brace so he wouldn’t tumble down the rest of the stairs.

I glanced over at him, now shirtless. His skin seemed to glow under the moon, and my eyes focused on a thin white scar that ran over his ribs.

“I’d rather not,” I said dryly as he lit his cigarette, inhaling deeply and groaning as he released the smoke.

“Yeah.” He shook his head and laughed as he pulled another drag. “Probably too X‐rated for a girl like you.”

I didn’t like the way he said “girl,” like I was a fucking child. I grabbed his cigarette and took a drag, my eyes locked on his.

“You don’t look like the type,” he said, as he took it back and pressed it between his lips.

“Looks can be deceiving.” I stared off into the night, the pills slowly starting to dull the anger that throbbed in the back of my head. I wobbled, unsteady, and leaned back on my arms. The cracked wood dug into my elbows, but I was too focused on the wave of euphoria that was slowly licking at my toes and weaving its way through my veins.

“Like this house. It looks like it’s not worth shit, but there are memories here. Old ones.” He looked at me again. “New ones. You have to look past the chipped paint and creaky floorboards, but it’s there.”

I nodded, but my mind was pulsing in waves, and I lay on my back, the splintery wood poking me through my shirt. Abel did the same, and we stared out at the moon as he pulled another drag from his cigarette. The night was quiet, just the sound of our deep breaths as we got lost in our own thoughts. He began to ramble, picking up where he’d left off, but his sentences ran together, and he never seemed to complete a thought.

“You can’t change what’s on the inside…inside people, not the house. The house can be changed.” The cherry from his cigarette blew brighter as he took a long pull and exhaled slowly. “Not really true, though. I changed. Things changed. My whole life…” He tucked his arm under his head to angle his face toward the moon.

“I’ve changed but not really. Changed a lot in some ways, others not at all,” I offered, but my words got caught on my tongue, and I stuttered as I tried to push out a thought. I felt deep, but the translation was lost on its way from my brain to my tongue. I felt like I was sinking into the old wood of the porch, becoming the decrepit house that had been forgotten.