583495793235

To: Madeline F. Whittier
Subject: (no subject)
Please don’t worry, Mom. And please don’t come here. I’m really OK and it’s my life too. I love you. I’ll see you soon.
I hit send and hand the phone back to Zach. He pockets it and stares at me.
“So you really bought pills off the Internet?” he asks.
I’m still so shaken up from my mom’s e-mails and worrying that Olly and I don’t have
enough time for each other that I’m not prepared to hear my lie coming out of his mouth.
I do exactly what you’re not supposed to do when lying to someone: I don’t meet his eyes.
I fidget and blush.
I open my mouth to explain, but no explanation comes.
He’s already guessed the truth by the time I finally meet his eyes.
“Are you going to tell him?” I ask.
“No. I’ve been lying about myself for so long. I know what it’s like.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you,” I say.
He just nods.
“What would happen if you told your parents?” I ask.
His answer is immediate. “They’d try to make me choose. And I wouldn’t choose them.
This way, everybody wins.”
He leans back in his chair and strums. “All apologies to the Rolling Stones, but my first
album’s going to be called Between Rock and Roll and a Hard Place. What do you think?”
I laugh. “That’s terrible.”
He grows serious again. “Maybe growing up means disappointing the people we love.”
It’s not a question and, anyway, I don’t have an answer.
I turn my head and watch Olly as he walks back toward us.
“Doing OK?” he asks before kissing my forehead and then my nose and then my lips.
I decide not to bring up my mom’s impending visit. We’ll just make the most of the
time we have.
“I’ve never felt better in my life,” I say. I’m grateful at least that I don’t have to lie about
this.