Lost In Lies (3 page)

              We pack our things back up, hide our bags in a gathering of tropical trees, and prepare to head toward the mainland. Aiden, Eiden, Peter, and Justin all grab their swim trunks, something I have to assume is just standard attire they keep around.

              Curious, I lean over to Belle and ask, “Why don’t they just use fairy dust to change?”

              “How do you know they can do that that?” Belle raises her neatly painted eyebrows. Nervously biting on my bottom lip, I neglect to answer, which causes her to shout, “Justin!”

              Startled, he drops his swim trunks, “Peter said you wouldn't miss it!”

              Taken off guard for a second, her previous train of annoyance is cut off, “Miss what?”

              “The last breath mint. You know how I hate my own morning breath.” My head tilts at him in confusion as Belle's does in annoyance. It's hard to believe at time he's more high maintenance than we are. It feels so backwards. Justin's face seems to catch on that's not where he irritation came from and continues with, “But by the look on your face I take it that's not why you were yelling.”

              “You wasted fairy dust on a wardrobe change?” she scowls at him.

              “One,” he wiggles his finger at her as her parenting face continues to look down at him. “We were in a crunch! And that was last night when I thought we were going straight home! And, well, let’s face it, we all know that I enjoy getting dressed. I wouldn’t waste fairy dust. You know that.”

              She points at him motherly and then acknowledges that he should continue to change, which is when she turns back to me. “Just so we’re clear, the big deal about fairy dust is that it’s illegal in Neverland.”

              “Highly,” Peter calls over to us as he strips down behind a tree.

              “Why?” I croak, concerned.

              “Not a door to be opened right now,” Aiden calls over, interrupting our conversation.

              “We are, however, the biggest dealers in it,” Eiden says, changing as well.

              “Top of the pyramid, baby,” Peter strolls around, sporting his green-and-white plaid swim trunks.

              “You have to be the best at all times, don’t you?” The question causes Peter to smile.

              “Now you’re learning,” he shoots me a nauseating wink.

              “Fairy dust is not to be used so frivolously,” Belle says, handing me an extra swimsuit from her bag. “Are we clear?”

              I simply nod. Quickly, I slide my bra off under my shirt and the pink bikini top on underneath. Hiding behind a tree, I slip on the bottoms and place a pair of jean shorts over them. I toss on a white, off-the-shoulder top, looking a little more beach friendly than before. Belle and I follow behind Justin and Peter, who seemed to have calmed down into a more civilized conversation, one with simple chuckles and jokes that aren’t stabs at one another. It feels slightly heartwarming to hear them engaged like friends instead of enemies, creating the feeling that this might be a family instead of just a gathering of misfits.

              Landlin is a beautiful coast town with the three gorgeous Bs—beaches, boats, and babes. My eyes glance around the girls in bikinis strolling around the boardwalk so early in the morning, ready to party, ready to mingle, ready for an endless day in paradise. We continue passing girls with sun-stroked tans, makeup perfected as if pieces of artwork in museums, and bodies so toned that I feel my insecurities creeping to the surface. I fold my arms across my chest to block parts of myself from view.

              I watch as girls giggle at Justin, who is flirtatiously tipping his hat their direction, striking a small nerve of jealousy in me.

              “Don’t worry,” Belle slips her arm around mine, pulling me in closer to whisper. “It’s all a part of the plan. It’s how he flushes out information. Just watch.”

              We lag back and linger by a frozen yogurt shop, while Peter and Justin wander off toward a group of females who seem slightly lost but are dolled up with intention. My eyes wander down over the menu board filled with delicious choices that are so close yet so far.

              I turn just as Justin gets his arm stroked by one of the girls, while his smile sparkles in the early sunlight, “Do you ever get used to watching that?”

              Belle paints a smile on her face, glances over as Peter touches a girl on the cheek, raises her eyebrows, and sighs, “No.” After a pause, she looks back at me, and says, “I try not to stare. It’s kind of like a car wreck, I figure. If I stare, I’m probably not going to like what I see and just make the situation worse.”

              My lips press together as the guy running the shop saunters over to us with two shot-glass-style frozen yogurt samples. He smiles softly, his mocha skin contrasting in an enticing way with his yellow uniform shirt.

              “Ladies, treat?” The offer seems like the universe’s way of trying to balance out the boys getting hit on by letting this guy hit on us. This, I am OK with.

              “Sure,” Belle answers, accepting her chocolate and vanilla-swirl yogurt.

              I thank him in return, giggling to myself that, my first day as a Lost Boy, I’m eating frozen yogurt for breakfast. Is this some sort of preface to what I have to look forward to? Deliciously misplaced fun?

              He smiles and begins flirting with Belle, complimenting her choice of colors, her fantastic eyes, her sweet laugh, all while admiring how her beautiful body stacks up. I try not to focus on the fact it’s her he’s ogling over, creating even more anxiety inside of me.

My attention slips over to the boys, who are of course hard at their job. Justin throws his head back in heavy laughter at something Peter says before they give each other a playful high five. Well, there’s a sight I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed aside from the first time I met Peter—the two of them getting along. Interested in the interaction, I continue to watch as the two of them elbow each other between jokes, painting the portrait of friendship I assume must have been more common before I came along.

              Suddenly, a hand touches my arm, and I flinch, “Excuse me.”

              Looking at Eiden, slightly confused, I say, “Yeah?”

              “I was just wondering if you and your friend would be interested in joining me and my brother for a party,” he tilts his head the direction of Aiden, who is stationed close to Justin and Peter.

              I glance over to the group to see Justin’s arm wrapped around the shoulder of a bikini-clad brunette girl wearing a bobbed haircut, long in the front, short in the back. Peter, being the selfish jerk he is, has the three other girls fawning over him, tripping over themselves to hold his hand or stare into his eyes. If they only knew.

              “We’d love to.” The words do their best not to come out tainted in irritation, but they’re having a hard time. “Belle ...”

              She kisses the yogurt guy on the cheek, grabs my hand, and begins slowly licking her portion of breakfast. Once we make it over to Aiden, Belle slides her arm around his as she instructs, “Take Eiden by the hand.”

              After doing so, I glance down at the uncomfortable combination we’ve created and look up, “No offense, Eiden, you’re a great guy to hold hands with, I’m sure. But, why do I need to right now?”

              “The con is simple. Peter and Justin find where the party is by manipulating some random group of beach trash,” she points at the next generation of NFL cheerleaders we’re following. “We follow behind them as the girls that Aiden and Eiden picked up. Once we’re at the party, they ditch the beach bunnies and return to us ... theoretically.”

              “Why is it theoretical?” My fingers touch Eiden’s, which are fatter than Justin’s. Doing my best not to judge, I can’t help but notice his hand is colder as well.

              “That’s the way it’s always gone, getting me into a party without having to worry, but Justin’s never had a girlfriend, so I’m just assuming he’ll return.”

              “Oh,” I try not to sound concerned. “Good assumption.” Though, I don’t know if I can stomach the embarrassment of being left by the guy pretending to pick me up as well as the one who is supposed to return to me.

              Suddenly, something hits me, something that I was thinking about on the ship, something that we probably should’ve discussed last night instead of just passing out—our relationship. I know Justin cares about me. He’s rescued me, supported me, and even told me the truth against his better judgment. His feelings for me are absolutely clear as far as I’m concerned, but how do I feel? I mean, obviously, you don’t just go giving up the chance of growing up and your family for a guy you have lukewarm feelings for, yet I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is love. I’m sure part of it is, and that’s why I couldn’t help but do what I did, but the other part of me wonders, can I ever really trust him? Should we rush into this, especially if we have more than a lifetime to figure it out?

              Making a firm decision, I sigh, “But, I’m not his girlfriend ...”

              Aiden, Belle, and Eiden turn to look at me with unsure looks before Belle responds with, “That’s not the way he tells it.”

              “To anyone,” Aiden clarifies.

              Before I realize it, we’ve walked a good distance away from where we set up camp to a different part of the beach that seems to be right up Peter’s ally. My eyes wander around at the girls barely wearing bikinis as they drink from cups overflowing with some sort of alcoholic substance. Most of them are wearing big-name labels, and those who aren’t openly wearing them on their chests are openly wearing them on their handbags. Just as I thought I had escaped this kind of world, here I am landed right back in, still on the outside looking in.

              The four of us head through a crowd of people toward a luxury beach home, where even more people are lingering. Eiden smirks at girls tanning, their strings untied but the material left on just enough to keep the imagination from having to work too hard. Moments before my feet hit the inside of the house, an amazing aroma hits my nose indicating to my stomach not to fear—food is indeed near. Once we’ve crossed the threshold and through to the other side into what I assume is the backyard, if you can call it that, I see a DJ on a deck mixing music, teens dancing wildly in the pre-noon sun, and food being grilled and served next to a buffet of treats that could easily suit anyone’s taste. There are benches, tables, and to no surprise, a pool area closer to the DJ, where even more people are gathered.

              “Looks like we hit the mother lode,” Eiden mutters in my ear.

              Suddenly, Belle and Aiden come to a halt, and I nearly run into them. Barely able to pump my breaks in time, I mumble over her shoulder, “Why’d you stop?”

              She nods her head forward, and I see a very brief hand motion before Justin and Peter part ways from each other, still holding the females’ attention. Belle leans back and she sighs, “This is the part where I follow Peter and become his new girl of interest. Excuse me.”

              Belle struts off, her don’t-screw-with-me attitude radiating enough to intimidate a clear path through the first part of her journey. I turn to where I thought Eiden was standing, only to realize that he’s disappeared. Jaw open, I turn back to Aiden to ask him where his brother slipped away to, and he’s vanished too. Geez, it’s like everyone in this group is really good at that Houdini trick except me. Note to self: Get better at that.

              My stomach growls, and immediately, I make my way toward the grill area, where I grab a fresh-made hot dog, a skewer, a small salad, some fresh pineapple, and a cup of water. Pleased at the sight overflowing on my plate, I escort myself over to an unclaimed high-top bar table, where I waste no time destroying the hot dog and damn near chug the water.

              Right as I’m about to bite into a piece of steak on the skewer, someone slides over to me, a little out of breath, snatches off his black fedora, and tosses it to the ground beside his feet. I can picture the warm, yet devious smile spreading across his lips. With a smile of my own I glance down at the fedora, flattered that Justin would want to relive our first meeting with a reenactment—a cute yet simple way to add a little romance to the day.

              “Do me a favor?” The boy ruffles his dark-brown, professionally blond-highlighted hair. “Pretend I’ve been here the whole time?”

              I blink twice trying to adjust to this unexpected, unfamiliar face. The last time a handsome stranger came up to me and asked me to do him this kind of a favor, it turned out to be a con. Now, mind you, what are the chances that this could happen twice in a person’s life, let alone twice in a few months? But, that’s not a question I want to risk getting an honest answer to.

              What is this guy up to? Knowing I should brush him off, knowing I should tell him to be gone, knowing I should just tell him no, I fall into his soft, honey-brown eyes that seem so harmless. They seem hopeless, sincerely desperate for a brief breath of help—willing just to take an inch, not steal a mile.

              Fighting deja vu, I croak out, “Where’d you get that hat?”

              He smiles, flattered by my response, and says, “From—”