A Fabrication of the Truth (7 page)

I laughed. “I’ve always spun these lies and tales involving me and royalty. There’s this story I used to tell about a prince and a princess.”

“Really?”

“Do you want to hear it?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. It was so easy with Dalton. I didn’t have to hold anything back and the stories I told him were just stories, not lies, because he knew the truth.

“Of course.”

“I did a creative writing assignment in seventh grade about it,” I started, snuggling back into the plaid pullout couch. The brown from the plaid blended with the brown of the paneled walls, and with the lowered ceiling, it felt like a warm, safe cave down there. “There was a young prince and princess from two different kingdoms. The young royals couldn’t have had any more different backgrounds. The prince came from a kingdom of upstanding citizens where they held truth and kindness in high regard. They had strong family values and loved each other deeply. The young princess came from a kingdom where wealth mattered the most. They honored things like greed and gluttony and didn’t care how they gained things. Crime ran rampant in the princess’ kingdom. The prince and princess were warned to stay away from each other.” I stopped a moment and looked at Dalton. He nodded at me. I’m quite certain he knew who and what my story was about.

“Okay, I swear I’m not making this up. But what the Queen says is pretty much along the lines of what your lola said.”

“Really?”

I nodded and continued. “‘They’re just not nice people over in that kingdom,’ the queen would tell the young prince,” I said, glancing down at Dalton’s thigh. I wanted to place my hand on it, but shook away the idea and continued with my story. “‘You shouldn’t make friends with Royals from kingdoms so close. We don’t want them snooping around, now do we?’ the king said to the young princess. So they watched each other from afar. Until one day, the prince got up enough courage and went to the princess’ kingdom. Together, they had a day of delight and fancy – one of the best in all the time they could remember. Then the evil guard invaded the princess’ kingdom, led by a wicked witch who cursed the young prince, and he was never able to visit the princess’ kingdom again. The end. After my teacher graded the paper and handed it back, I told her it was all true. She looked at me and said, ‘That’s nice, honey.’”

“That’s a positive spin of events,” Dalton said when I finished.

“Yeah, I like that version better.”

“In a way, it was like a curse.”

“Yeah?”

“But the curse has been broken.”

“Not totally. We’re just working around it. I think it was also like part haunting.”

“But I didn’t die,” Dalton said, placing his hand on his thigh. I swore he knew what I was thinking. “Well…I take that back. Actually, I did. In the ambulance on the way to the hospital, I stopped breathing and on the operating table, I flat-lined. The surgeon stuck his hands in my chest and massaged my heart back to life or something.”

“Oh my god.”

Dalton nodded and looked down at his hand lying on his thigh, probably wondering if I would hold it.

“But I swear your spirit separated itself from you, maybe at one of those moments, and has been with me ever since.”

“So I’ve been haunting you even though I’m still alive?” Dalton asked with a tip of the head.

“Yes. Sometimes, I’d turn and see you out the corner of my eye, or my mind would just start thinking about you like I had no control over it. And all the questions I always had. You have been a part of me since that day and like you said, it’s like somehow I’ve been reaching my hand out to you ever since.”

“I think it’s pertinent that we never be separated again.”

“Dalton…”

“I’m sorry, but we need each other whether you want to admit it or not.”

“My life might fall to shambles because of you.”

“Well, I’ll be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

“We’re not dating or anything.”

“Okay, but you promise always to remain a part of my life?”

“I promise.” I wanted to scream out,
“No, what are you making me say!”
– but my heart knew that I needed to make that promise.

“I don’t want to haunt you anymore.”

“We’re going to have to work on that.”

Dalton lay his head on my shoulder, and I took his hand in mine. I had to show him at least I was there for him. We sat like that and continued talking about nothing important, like our classes and living with our grandparents – all the while his hand so warm in mine, sending tingles through my body that I tried desperately to ignore. I leaned my head on his, and I never felt so comfortable with another person before. After a while, he said he probably should be going, and he got to his feet with his hand still in mine, pulling me up to standing. We were nose to nose. I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in minty-apples – an odd, but wonderful scent for a sixteen-year-old boy. He took my other hand and looked down at me, and I looked up into his dark brown eyes and my stomach did a flip-flop as a small smile crept across his face. He squeezed my fingers and then let go. “See you tomorrow, Lexie.”

At lunch, Caroline threw herself down in the seat in front of me. She blew her hair up out of her face and plopped her bag onto the table.

“You don’t have lunch this period,” I said.

“Minor details,” she said, eyeballing my lunch tray. I knew at least half of my food would be surrendered to her. I didn’t mind, though. One, because she was my friend and we always ate each other’s food, and two, because the cafeteria was filled with an awful stench of something that had burnt. A burger catastrophe, perhaps. I usually ate burgers for lunch, but none were available that day, so I ate what was on special – some sort of rice and meat casserole. Combined with that stank, I willingly pushed my tray toward my friend.

“Just minor,” I said as she picked up my spork and dug in.

“There’s a sub in my physics class,” she said with a mouth full of food. She claimed her mother was a terrible cook, so she could pretty much eat anything because it tasted better than what her mom made.

“They still take attendance.”

“Like I said…”

“Minor details.”

“You’re catching on, but really I wanted to ask you something. A very cool opportunity has come your way.” She pointed the spork at me and gave a slight nod.

“Oh no, you didn’t meet a prince from Nigeria online, did you?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “You know how I did that car dealership commercial?”

“Yeah.”

“They want me to do another commercial, this time for their ‘Hey It’s Winter, Buy a Car’ Savings Event.”

“That’s great,” I said as a tray across the cafeteria crashed to the floor. I looked up with pretty much everyone else in the crowded cafeteria – only I didn’t snicker and point or holler like many others.

“It’s about me and my best friend. She’s picking out a new car, and I told her grandpa had some good deals for her.” Caroline looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Ha, that’s Dane. He’s in my history class. Going to have to give him crap about that later.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Dane?”

“Ha, ha.”

“But seriously, they asked if I knew anybody.”

“Who needed a car?”

“No, who wanted to be in the commercial.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t they have talent agents for stuff like that?” I asked, taking the spork from Caroline and trying a bite of what I thought was goulash. It was awful. The school followed healthy dietary guidelines, therefore making all the food taste like butt. Yet, they still served burgers – my lunchtime saving grace. Well, normally.

“They don’t want to have to pay the actors too much, and when I got the role, I just answered an ad in the paper. I didn’t go through my agent. You gonna finish that?”

I gave Caroline back the spork. “And what does this all have to do with me?”

“You’re the friend for the commercial.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I showed them a picture from my phone, and they about flipped. They think you’re perfect, and probably kind of hot.”

“I don’t know. People might like see and recognize me from the commercial.”

“Probably not.”

“Are you sure? They recognize you.”

“Of course I’m not sure. I just want you to do this with me.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, looking back to the tray fiasco across the cafeteria. The red-headed Dane flailed his arms around and explained something to the custodian, who leaned on a mop.

“Think right now.”

“I should have said I’ll sleep on it.”

“No, please, just say yes.”

“When is it?”

“This weekend.”

“Fine.”

And so I would be in a car dealership commercial.

***

I was taking out the trash when Dalton appeared out of nowhere. While I was dressed like a shlub—old worn-out sweater and slippers—he wore a snug thermal and a knit beanie. I tried not to let my mind wander to how good he looked.

“Hey,” he said, looking up at me from under his lashes and digging the toe of his shoe into our driveway.

“Hi,” I said, glancing down at my slippers. Why, oh why, of all days did I have to dress like that? I shouldn’t have been concerned with how I looked in front of Dalton, but I really was.

He sucked on his lip and stood up straighter. “I was going to offer you help, but it looks like you have it covered.”

“My grandma is leaving for bingo soon, and she’d probably just shit, seeing you out here.”

“Is that a normal reaction for your grandma or is shitting reserved just for me?”

I sighed. “Dalton, we’re going to get in trouble, or more like you’re going to get in trouble.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Your family wants you nowhere in the vicinity of me and my family. My grandma told me about the restraining order the other day. They can’t see us together.”

“Oh.”

“See what I mean?”

“Well, my family doesn’t have to know,” Dalton said as he grabbed my hand and swung my arm. He had this mischievous grin on his face, and then it dawned on me that we were holding hands for the fourth time. I wanted to say I wasn’t keeping track, but I was. I wanted to let go, but I just tried to pretend that I didn’t notice. But dear lord, did I. His hand entwined in mine seemed so perfect, and he gently squeezed my fingers as if to say,
“Hey, we’re still connected. Don’t let go
.
”
I tried to let go for years, but deep down, I knew it was impossible, despite all of my protests. God, I liked him. I liked him so much – it even felt like more than that. We had some sort of bond that couldn’t ever be broken, but I had to try my best to keep that bond apart. Then the front door opened. Dalton jumped back and darted across the lawn.

My grandma came out of the house and locked the door behind her.

“Win me lots of money,” I said as she opened the car door.

“I’ll see what I can do. Leftovers in the fridge,” she said.

I waved as she pulled out of the driveway and drove off down the street. I walked back up to the house, where Dalton stood at the top of the driveway.

“How long does she usually stay away?” Dalton asked, his shoulder leaning up against the house.

“Somebody will see you,” I said, standing in front of him.

He straightened up and stepped in close. “This doesn’t have to be so difficult,” he said, taking my hand again while totally invading my personal space, which I didn’t mind much really. I looked up into his dark eyes.

“Dalton,” I said.

“It’ll be okay,” Dalton said.

“Maybe when we were eleven, whatever this is between us would have worked out, but it’s not going to,” I said.

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m not going to let it,” I said, even though I really liked being around him.

“You can’t deny what we have forever, Lexie,” Dalton said, taking a step closer, causing me to step back against the house.

“I’m a strong-willed girl. I think I can.”

“You sure?” Dalton put one hand over my shoulder, our bodies so close to touching. This overwhelming urge to be in his arms overtook me. I wanted his lips pressing hard against mine, taking my breath away.

He leaned in closer. I could feel the warmth of his mouth, so close to mine, and he tilted his head. I closed my eyes, waiting for the kiss. My breathing quickened and then softly, he said, “Good-night, Lexie.” I slowly opened my eyes, and he walked away. I swore I saw a smirk on his face.

I fell back against the house, feeling like something needed to be fulfilled. I was left with this disappointment and this tingly feeling throughout my body. I slid down the house and dropped my arms to the side. Dalton Reyes was such bad news for me, yet I wanted him so badly.

The next day at school while I did my morning ritual—standing at my locker and talking to Caroline—Dalton walked past, lightly brushing my shoulder and grabbing my wrist, ever so gently rubbing his thumb on the inside of it, then slowly pulling his hand away and continuing down the hallway.

“Holy shit, what was that?”

“What am I going to do?”

“Have an orgasm in the hallway?”

“You’re bad.”

“Seriously, though, you closed your eyes and inhaled. The whole thing was pretty hot.”

“You’re delusional, but what am I going to do?”

“Dalton Reyes.”

“I’m not going to do Dalton Reyes.”

“Give it time. You will. But seriously, what is with you two and why would going out with him be so bad? I’d go out with him, but he only wants you.”

“My whole life is a sham, and by going out with him everybody will figure it out.”

“So, what does it matter?”

“It matters. It matters to me.”

***

That night, as I got ready to work on a new shirt, I just happened to look out my window to see Dalton doing chin-ups in his lola’s spare bedroom. He wore a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top. He had himself some very nice muscles – long and lean, not overly muscular or anything. I wanted to run my finger down his bicep. I tried to snap myself out of it and focus on the shirt I planned to work on, when I heard Dalton’s window open. He called my name, and I did my best to ignore him. I needed to have some control over the situation.

“Lexie,” he said one more time.

“Yes,” I said, giving in way too easily.

“What are you up to?” he asked as I opened my window.

“I’m about to cut out a pattern for a shirt.”

“Oh,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

“Did you want something?”

“I told my sister I was going to spend the evening at the library. She’s the only one home tonight. Meet me there?”

“Hmm.” I tapped my chin with my pointer finger.

“She’s dropping me off, so we can’t go together.” He frowned and blinked his eyes.

“Fine,” I said. “See you in a bit.”

I grabbed my school bag and headed downstairs.

“Grandma, I’m heading out,” I shouted because I wasn’t sure where in the house she was. It was a small split level, so if I stood in the living room and said something loud enough, she’d be able to hear me wherever she was. She emerged from the basement with a laundry basket.

“Where are you going?”

“Library.”

“You never just go to the library.”

“Well, now I am.”

“You need to stay away from Dalton.”

“I’m not going anywhere near him.”

“You got a dreamy look on your face when you said you’re going to the library,” my grandma said, sliding the laundry basket onto the kitchen table.

“I did not!”

“Were you looking in the mirror when you said it?” she asked, pulling out a pair of her oversized underwear and shaking them before folding them.

“No.”

“So, then you couldn’t see, but your head tilted a bit, you blinked, and got a slight smile.”

“Stop it, Grandma.” I could feel my face turning red.

“You’re going to get him in trouble. Besides, he’s trouble.” She pointed at me with her now folded briefs.

“No, he’s going to get himself in trouble. I have nothing to do with what he does.” I crossed my arms.

“You have everything to do with what he does.” What did she know about what he did and how it involved me?

“I have to go study, Grandma. I’m meeting my friend, Caroline.”

“If I called her phone would she corroborate your story?”

“Grandma, I rarely ever go anywhere or do anything. Can’t you just let me peacefully go to the library?”

“I’ll be here when you need a shoulder to cry on, when his sister and lola find out you two are sneaking around.”

“We’re not!” I suspected someone saw us the other day and said something to her.

“Go to the library, Lexie.”

“Bye, Grandma.”

“Bye, baby girl.”

***

Dalton sat outside the library on the same bench he was last time, reading by way of a streetlight overhead.

“What is it this time?” I asked. He held up the book for me to see.

“Dying Too Young,” I read. The cover pictured a teen couple sadly embracing. “Depressing?”

“Severely.” He shoved the book into his backpack and stood up.

“Why are you reading it then?”

“Helps keep things in perspective,” Dalton said with a shrug.

“Because you didn’t die?”

“Kind of,” he said, bobbing his head back and forth a little.

“Are we really going to hang out at the library?”

“Do you want to?”

“Not especially.”

“I have two hours.”

“Eat?”

“Sure.”

“Mount Holy Burger?”

“I’d actually prefer a healthier option. If that’s okay.”

“Um, sure.”

“There’s this pita pocket place that’s pretty good.”

“Let’s go.”

“Hold on one second,” he said. “There’s a hair.” He touched right next to my mouth, and I swore I felt a little electric shock from where he touched my skin. “It was stuck in the corner of your mouth.” Two of his fingers stayed next to my lips.

“Thanks,” I said, darting my eyes to the ground because I knew if I made eye contact, I’d probably lean in and kiss him, still reveling in the feeling of him lightly touching my face. As I looked back up, he smiled and slowly dropped his hand.

“Welcome,” he said. We started walking down the sidewalk to get to the pita place. It was almost dark out and the streetlights were all lit, traffic swishing past on the busy street. It was a little cold and I didn’t wear gloves, so when Dalton took my hand in his and it felt so warm and wonderful, I didn’t pull my hand away. Neither of us said anything about being interlocked by way of hand holding—it just was—and we talked the three blocks down that we had to walk.

“Are you a good student?” Dalton asked out of the blue.

“Why do you ask?”

“You seemed pretty desperate not to study.”

“I’m okay – not the worst, not the best. Enough to get me into college. What about you?”

“I’m trying.”

“Trying?” I asked, looking up at Dalton. For a second, his face fell into a frown, but then went back to his usual serious mask.

“I’m forever playing catchup. I’m still technically a sophomore.”

“But I see you near the junior lockers all the time.”

“They were nice and put me in a junior homeroom, but credit-wise, still a sophomore. Been taking a class each summer to catch up.”

“Did you miss that much school?” I asked, stepping over a large crack in the sidewalk where a tree’s roots pushed up through the cement.

“Yeah, it ended up being a big, complicated mess.”

“Why?”

“Another story, another day.”

“But you will tell me?”

“Soon, very soon.”

“You’re very cryptic.”

Dalton shrugged and held the door open for me as we arrived at the pita place. A big orange sign that read
Fresh Pocket
hung above the door.

We found a booth in the corner and sat down with our food. Everything in the restaurant was orange and green – even our booth. The colors of freshness, I guess.

“Okay, I know we keep talking about that day, but like you said, I never really had anybody to talk about it with. I mean, I have my grandma, but that’s more like her going, ‘Everything is just fine, honey. You’re safe.’ She says that part a lot. And being with you…it’s…uhh…,” I said.

“You know, just one day, just one moment in history can change your life forever. That day permanently altered our course in life. It’s trying to figure out how to live this new course…that’s the hard part.”

“Are you saying your life is hard?”

“I think it would have been easier if I never got shot, but it’s the life I have now so…,” Dalton said, putting his pita down and shrugging.

“What if you didn’t want to accept it?”

“Then I’d just have to give up because I’m pretty sure they haven’t invented time machines yet, so there’s no changing what happened.” Dalton took his pita wrapper and scrunched it up in his hands.

“There’s just living.”

“Exactly, you just have to choose to live it,” he said, looking at the scrunched up wrapper and placing it next to his pita pocket.

“I think I’m still on the figuring it out part of that.”

“Sometimes, I don’t think it will ever all be figured out. Somehow you have to, I don’t know, like learn to accept it or something. Make peace with it.”

“Have you?”

Dalton sucked on his bottom lip and shrugged.

I sighed and Dalton nodded, then we finished our food and headed back to the library. As we walked, Dalton reached over and took my hand in his. Holding hands became our thing – it felt so nice just holding his hand, walking in the cool night air, and talking about whatever came to our minds.

“When I was seven, I was obsessed with making things out of paper,” Dalton said.

“Really?” I asked, a night breeze blowing over us. I shook my face in the wind and looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, but since we were so close to the city, we never saw too many stars.

“Yeah. I had homemade paper folders, swords, hats, stuffed animals….”

“You made homemade stuffed animals out of paper?”

“Yep. I would tape the edges with masking tape and stuff them with toilet paper. My mom used to get so mad at me.”

“Why?”

“For wasting toilet paper, tape, and regular paper,” Dalton said, licking his lips. He really needed to stop licking his lips around me. It drew all my attention to his face and his beautiful mouth, which in turn meant that I was most likely staring.

“But it’s cute.”

“She pretty much saw the mess I left everywhere. Scraps of paper, failed experiments, my completed projects which I could never throw away.”

“Kind of sounds like my bedroom now.”

“You make paper creations?”

“More like fabric ones. Clothes.”

“That’s cool.”

“It might be.”

“The library,” Dalton said as we approached our starting point.

“Sister picking you up?”

“Yeah,” Dalton said, walking over to the building. “Let’s wait over here in case she comes early.”

“Okay,” I said, letting him lead me to a corner of the library that was partially covered by a bush. I leaned back against the building and glanced up at Dalton. He looked down at our linked hands and, with a step, closed some of the space between us. I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He dropped his hand from mine and put it on the building right above my shoulder. Our eyes met, and we looked at each other, perhaps wondering where we should go next.

“You know what?” he asked.

“What,” I whispered.

“Sometimes, I would incorporate tinfoil into my paper creations.”

“Really,” I said, placing my hand on his chest. I had this sudden urge to touch him and couldn’t resist. Even though he was layered, I could feel his hard chest beneath. He took in a breath when I touched him. He then took me in his arms, a gentle hug. We didn’t say anything as we stood there holding each other. His hands slowly started to travel south, and I enjoyed the trip they took. Our bodies drew closer together.

Dalton pressed up against me, his hands on my hips. My arms hugged him, my face buried in his chest. He nuzzled his face into my neck.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve known you were the one since I was eleven years old.” He softly kissed my neck, his breath tickling my skin.

“Dalton.”

“We just have to try. So what if the circumstances aren’t what we want them to be?”

He continued kissing my neck, holding me close to him. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to. I experienced so many new feelings. My heart beat wildly and my hands slightly shook. I think that was because they didn’t know how to deal with the excitement I felt. He tucked my hair back and kissed behind my ear. I gripped him tighter and let out a breath.

“Mmm,” he said, nibbling on my ear, one hand sliding up my back and the other moving to my butt. I leaned into him, his hard body against mine. Then I felt his excitement for the situation and it brought me back to reality.

“I have to go,” I said through a deep breath as he started to kiss under my chin.

“Lexie,” he said.

“I have to go.”

“Please don’t say that.”