The Third Lie's the Charm (18 page)

I heard his sharp intake of breath before he approached the bed, and I wondered what it might mean. Was he still angry with me? Had he come to tell me he never wanted to see me again?

I kept my eyes closed and my breathing even. Turns out after all this waiting around, I wasn't quite ready to face him yet. I knew I had to apologize, but I had no idea how. Easier to keep my eyes closed a little longer. At least with my eyes closed, there was a chance that he might stop hating me. And right then, I'd rather have a chance than the truth.

Laundry detergent followed Liam wherever he went. I always joked that he had to have the cleanest clothes of anyone at PB, and it was no different now. I loved the way he smelled, like fabric softener and Tide. God, I really didn't want to spend the rest of my life without that smell.

He placed his palm on the side of my head like it was always meant to be there, smoothing my hair lightly. It didn't feel like the touch of someone who was planning on leaving.

His breath caught and his hand shook a little, tiny noises escaping in puffs of air, and I realized he was crying.

“Kate,” he whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut. It sounded like he loved me, but what if I had my signals crossed? What if he was just trying to be a good friend? Trying to forgive me for being so awful? I focused on making my breathing slow and steady.

“I've been watching everyone come in and trying to figure out what to say to you, because even though I shouldn't be, I'm so mad.” His words were barely audible, a confession more than anything else. He was here, but he was angry. “You just keep doing this. You keep self-destructing. It's killing me.”

I accidentally forgot to breathe, and Liam paused.

“You can turn over now.” There was a smile in his voice, so I risked cracking open one eye, then two, and then rolling to my other side…Liam.

I felt like I was seeing him again for the first time. Faded navy T-shirt, hair curling over his ears and down the back of his neck, his eyes blue instead of green today. And yeah, he was hot. Super hot.

But it was more than that. So much more. His mouth twisted up into a half smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he brushed his hand across my forehead, smoothing my faded neon red hair out of my eyes.

“Hi.” He still had that funny half smile, but his eyes were serious. Drinking me in.

“Hi.” My eyes didn't leave his. I felt like I could stare at him for days. Maybe if I looked at him long enough, hard enough, he'd understand how much I loved him and how sorry I was for what I put him through. Maybe I wouldn't have to say it, because I knew whatever slipped out of my mouth would never be good enough.

“Look, I'm not even sure you want me to be here right now.”

I
do.

“You scared the shit out of me, Kate.”

I
know.

“I'm sure you're going to need time to work through this, to figure everything out, but it's just getting too difficult to be around you like this.”

No. Please, no.

“I just want you to be happy.”

Yeah, right.

“So, I guess I'll leave you to it. Please just take care of yourself, okay? I couldn't…I just, I hate to see you hurt.”

Too
late.

Liam hesitated for a second but finally stood and began walking to the door.

I watched his fingers grip the handle. I watched him pull it open. I almost let him leave.

Almost.

“I love you. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

The words were thick and foreign on my tongue, one on top of the other. I wasn't even sure if they were intelligible.

But Liam must have understood, because he was back at my bedside before I could say anything else.

“You what?”

“I'm sorry. It was all my fault you got kicked out of school, and I tried to do everything I could to fix it…”

“No, not that.” He waved his hand. “The charges were dropped. I'm back in.” Liam walked back over to the bed. “The first part.”

“I love you?”

His lips were on mine before I could finish. His hands tangled in my hair, my fingers wrapped around his neck, and we kissed. This is going to sound totally cheesy, but he took a piece of me with that kiss. Or maybe I finally just gave it to him.

He pulled away after a minute and tipped my chin so our eyes could meet.

“I love you, Kate.” I was close enough to see the flecks of blue and green and brown in his eyes, the flecks that always made them change color on a whim. Today, more than anything else, I saw truth swimming between the swirling colors.

“I love you too.”

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to see Grace's journal sitting on top of my desk when I finally returned home from the hospital. I shouldn't have shivered when I ran my fingers over her name etched into the bright pink cover using an orange pen.

I have no idea who left it there for me. Probably Porter or Cameron. But my heart wanted to believe it was Grace.

I thought about opening it up. I thought about reading every word. But instead I walked over to my closet, ballet flats clicking and creaking on the wood floor, and pulled down the brown cardboard box on the top shelf. It was covered in dust, and I felt a sneeze tickling my nose as I balanced the weight in my arms.

I slid off the lid of the box, my fingers catching on the rough edges of the cardboard. The snapshots and notes and slam books were all jumbled together, and I carefully picked up my favorite picture, the one with Maddie and Grace that we took before upper school started, before the world swallowed up our childhood. Our faces were soft and dimpled, our eyes sparkling with possibility. Hope. I unfolded the frame and placed it gently on my nightstand. I wanted to remember the way we'd been, because I was ready to start being the person I'd become. But there was nothing wrong with a little hope.

I carefully lifted Grace's pearls from around my neck and snapped them into the large velvet box that Ms. Lee had presented me with after Grace's funeral. I loved the pearls, and I'd miss their cool reassurance on my neck, but it was time to retire them. Maybe someday I'd wear them again. Someday when they reminded me of something other than revenge.

I lifted the journal from my desk and stacked it carefully on top in the box. The pages felt heavy with secrets, and part of me wanted to devour them all. But a bigger part of me knew that I needed to let Grace go. I was happy to have her words, her thoughts nearby. But that didn't mean I had to read them. Dead or alive, every girl deserves to keep some secrets.

Besides, I had different plans for today. My bruises had mostly faded, and I had that familiar itch that always came with big changes in my life. Thankfully I planned for such occasions, and I had just the thing to scratch it.

I flipped open the small closet next to my bathroom and started digging around for some hair dye. The past seventy-two hours had changed my life. I felt different, so it was only fair that I look different too.

It wasn't easy to find the right box. I had a few stockpiled, a rainbow of colors I figured I'd need at some point. I felt my lips turn up in a smile when I finally uncovered the right color behind the packages of purple and platinum, blue and green. I ran my fingers over the model on the box, so pretty and happy, like she held the secret to it all. I could use a secret like that.

Because I'd changed. I was never going to be the Kate who rode her bike to the drugstore with her two best friends and stayed up all night laughing and eating Twizzlers. I was never going to be that girl in the picture, but I was ready to go back to being me. Well, the new and improved me, that is.

As I rinsed the dye from my hair, I let a few other things slip down the drain as well. Regret, guilt, revenge, sadness. I'd reserve the right to feel these things occasionally, but I desperately clung to hope instead. Because hope was what moved you forward.

The secretary did a double take as I signed my name on her clipboard, her thin lips turning up in a smirk. I'd dyed my hair enough times to grow accustomed to the extra attention, but I couldn't help but smooth the soft strands anyway, returning her smile as I took my seat.

Half a beat-up-looking magazine later, she ushered me into the familiar room where Dr. Prozac was typing something into his computer, his back turned to me. For some reason, anticipation bubbled in my stomach. Dr. Prozac was right up there when it came to people who would care about the color of my hair, and I had to admit I was excited for him to see my new look. My appearance was a hot topic of discussion during our sessions, and I couldn't wait to hear what he might conclude about my latest choice.

He turned around, and I waited for it…waited for it…and then, a flick of the eyebrows, wide eyes, blinking, and finally a smile.

“Kate!” He clapped his hands together, his face warm and alive. It was kind of a shocking reaction from a normally very composed person. I couldn't help but laugh.

I lifted a chunk of hair near my face. “Natural.”

“It suits you.” Dr. Prozac nodded to the ass-numbing chair and I took my usual seat.

I was finally back.

Tonight's the night. The bonfire. I've tried on about a million different outfits. Turns out it's kind of tricky to know what to wear when your life is about to change.

Change. God, sometimes I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I know the societies are important. I know we need to come together as one, but lately when I look at Maddie and Kate, I'm tempted to warn them. Maybe if I told them the truth, we'd laugh at how stupid the societies are and everything would go back to the way it used to be.

The
truth
is, I liked our middle-grade bubble. I loved riding bikes and staying up all night watching scary movies and writing our deepest, darkest secrets into a puff-painted notebook. I miss it. All of it. Especially my friends.

I
just
wish
there
was
a
way
to
stop
time. To stop everything. I know that probably makes me sound like a baby, but it's the truth. The problem is that you can't stop time. You can't stop change. Change is coming. Change is here. No more hiding behind Kate.

Oh, I hope they'll understand. I hope they'll be proud.

Last
night,
I
had
a
dream
that
there
was
an
earthquake
on
campus. And it was horrible. The ground shook and cracked, a huge fissure divided our school in half. I remember looking at the ground split into a cliff and seeing Maddie and Kate on the other side.

I
woke
up
crying.

I
hope
that
if
tonight
causes
an
earthquake, it will push us together instead of splitting us apart. I hope they'll forgive me.

A huge thank-you to our incredible editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, who knows exactly when to replace an exotic, private island getaway with sleepover camp. And to the rest of our fabulous Sourcebooks family—especially Jillian Bergsma, Cat Clyne, and the awesome publicity team—for taking such good care of our babies. Kate and the entire Liar Society gang have been in good hands.

We couldn't do any of this without our agent, Catherine Drayton. Her guidance, advice, support, and one-liners are imperative to our survival. Plus, she's always right, and that helps too.

The Liar Society series will always have a special place in our hearts, and we hope we've done right by Kate. Thank you to our family and friends for believing in us and her.

Lisa and Laura Roecker are sisters turned writing partners with a passion for good books, pop culture, and Bravo programming. Not necessarily in that order. Lisa has always been a phenomenal liar and Laura loves to write angsty poetry, so writing for young adults seemed like a natural fit. The sisters live in Cleveland, Ohio, in separate residences. Their husbands wouldn't agree to a duplex. Visit
www.theliarsociety.com
to find out more.