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Authors: K.A. Castillo

The Convenience of Lies

BOOK: The Convenience of Lies
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The Convenience of Lies
K.A. Castillo
Creativia (2014)
“It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong. All that matters is if you can. If you can do something, what difference does it make?" 
 Based on a true story, The Convenience of Lies is a novel that keeps readers up past midnight with its story of friendship, mystery, crime, sex, and betrayal. Set in a suburban town, this story is told through the eyes of a high school junior, Mackenzie, who describes her crush on a "bad boy," Ramon and her relationship with her best friend, Kira. 
 During the course of the story, Mackenzie does her best to attract the affections of Ramon while her friendship with Kira evolves. Eventually, the different characters' property starts getting vandalized and a mystery develops as Mackenzie and Kira try to get to the bottom of who is behind the vandalism.
Table of Contents

The Convenience of Lies

K.A. Castillo

Copyright (C) 2012 K.A. Castillo

Layout Copyright (C) 2014 by Creativia

Published 2014 by Creativia

eBook design by Creativia (www.creativia.org)

ISBN 978-952-7114-46-9 (mobi), 978-952-7114-47-6 (paperback)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Dedication

To anyone who has
just
wanted to be loved.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Sharon Kelley, Marina Nemchinova, and Jenica Harmon for their editorial feedback while writing this story. Without them, this novel would never have come to the form it is in today. I would also like to thank my husband Jason Castillo for supporting me during my writing process, and Miika Hannila with Creativia for believing in and publishing this story.

Introduction

2013

Dear Kira,

I have come to realize that I owe you an overdue apology. Everything that went down ten years ago was a real tragedy, and I can see now that you were always looking out for my best interests….

I pause from writing this email. My heart is pounding and my nerves are rattling my rib cage. I pray that somehow, in some small way, this email will make amends for what happened so long ago.

We were so young, and that asshole really did a number on our friendship….

Chapter One

2003

I feel a tear squeeze out of my eye, and my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. I double over and nearly fall on my face. But then, our hands brush together. I feel a jolt go through my whole body. I have to stop and gasp for air. I wonder if she is thinking the same thing I am. Does she want to hold my hand? Would she feel comfortable doing that? Do I want to hold her hand? My mind starts to feel like scrambled eggs. Our hands brush together again, and this time we clasp each other. My heart skips a beat, and my face starts burning red. I think my heart has just sped up. This is my first time ever holding a girl's hand. Are people going to think we are lesbians? I feel my eyes start to dart around, looking at the faces of everyone near us. Everyone is distracted, nobody seems to notice us. I feel my mind start to settle. Suddenly, I realize there's a new skip in my step. Kira has never ceased to make me feel appreciated and wanted, I realize, as I remember back to when I first met her….

 

We met on the first day of school, at Verdad High. My family had just moved from my home town to the city of Verdad. I couldn't wait for the new school year to start because I had been wandering around at home all summer with no friends to see or hang out with, and no driver's license, so no way to get out and explore this new city. I couldn't wait to finally interact with other people my age, aside from my sister. In my home town, I had been bullied more than I would like to remember, and so I saw this move as a fresh start. I also knew that first impressions are the most important, so I knew I needed to act open to meeting new people, and I had been preparing myself to act as friendly as possible. I was clinging onto the idea that my life would finally make the turnaround I had always wanted. The first day of school was going to weigh heavily on my happiness for the rest of my high school experience.

On this first day, I stride up to the first friendly-looking person I see, a guy who towers over me even though he slouches. I notice his eyes are narrow set and framed with small, square glasses, riding over a thin, pointed nose.

I ask him, “Excuse me, do you know where room B21 is?” The guy stops abruptly in his footsteps, and I see his brow furrow as he looks around the quad.

“I think it's over there, on the other side of the building.” He animatedly points north, at a building that's a faded yellow and looks like it hasn't been washed in several years. The restrooms are visible from where we are standing, and I take note of them, good to know for later.

“Thank you so much!” I say in the friendliest way possible. The guy smiles and bows his head before rushing past me. He seems to be escaping my presence as fast as possible. What did I do wrong? I try to shake him off, square off my shoulders, and walk with as much confidence as I can muster in the direction he had pointed.

Despite how uncertain Towering-Guy behaved, he gave me good information. I enter my first classroom of my new high school, and take in the scene. I am the first student here.

“What's your last name?” booms out a croaking voice. I look around and spot who it is coming from. It's an old, chubby lady, with short, nappy, grey hair, who quite remarkably resembles a frog. She waddles over to me on her short legs, and I wonder how they can support her weight. The large, gold, glasses she is wearing are magnifying her eyes, adding to her frog-like appearance. I can only assume this is my AP World History teacher, Mrs. Falks.

“Fairbanks. I'm Mackenzie Fairbanks.”

“This is your seat.” Mrs. Falks points her finger to a chair on the left side of the room, and I can't help but notice her arm fat jiggling under her molted skin.

I take my seat, sitting up straight, leaning on my elbows, with my hands clasped against my heart. I am short for my age, only about five feet three inches. I have very thick brunette hair that comes just below my shoulder blades. It is layered and has loose, natural curls. My eyes are brilliantly green, representing the little bit of Irish I have in my family, even though I am mostly German. From my mom's side, I have inherited what we call a “marble in the nose,” or a very round, and in my opinion cute, nose. From my dad's side of the family, I have inherited my curvy figure. I don't have extra weight on me. Rather, my chest is very nicely developed, and my waist is tiny. Think of the hour-glass figure, and that's me. I am a ballerina too, and so I have a bit of a dancer's body.

I watch as my peers trickle into the classroom. Everybody seems to know each other; the girls scream and run together for ginormous hugs. You would think these people hadn't seen each other in five years. The boys stroll in, some of them wearing their caps backwards, all of them with floor-length jeans despite the August heat, and they throw their backpacks next to their chairs nonchalantly before sitting down with an air of resignation. How am I going to fit in with these people?

Just as everybody gets settled, the bell rings. I nearly jump out of my seat because I had no idea how piercing the bell would be, and it seems like I'm the one sitting closest to it. As I try to collect my composure, Mrs. Falks starts talking to us from her desk, which is behind us. We all turn around, craning our necks, to get a look at her. “Seeing as it's the first day of school, and so none of you have your textbooks yet, I think it would be best if we start with you all heading off to the library to get your books. We can't accomplish anything until you have them. I'll expect everyone back in fifteen minutes.” The class stares at her, waiting to see if she has anything else to say. “You all know how to get there, now go!”

The class jumps at her sudden assertion and starts migrating towards the door. I notice that Mrs. Falks isn't joining us to the library, and figure that she doesn't want to exert herself enough to walk there. Since I have no idea where the library is, I let some people pass ahead of me before leaving so that I can follow them. This plan turns out to be a success, and before I realize it, I am checking out my book.

As it turns out, Kira's elective period is at this time, and she is working in the library, helping the librarian check out books to students. As I approach Kira to check out my book, I notice that she is about three inches taller than I am, has pale blue eyes and thin blonde hair. She has trouble making her shoulder length hair look full, so she has it all pinned to her head. Her face is more round than mine, but she has a slender body.

“Are you new to this school?” she asks me. Wow, everybody really must know each other here. I must be sticking out like a seagull in the desert.

“Yes, it's my first day,” I reply.

“And you're taking AP History?”

“Yes, I am.”

I smile at her, but quickly forget our conversation when the librarian yells, “Don't you guys have to get back to your class!?” I hurry off back to the frog-lady's room.

The rest of the day goes by like a whirlwind. Every period I ask for directions to my next class. All of the students I ask seem unsure about where anything is. I can sense a feeling of family between all of my peers, and I am clearly the odd man out. Everyone is a blur of faces and names. I have trouble keeping track of who I've met, and wonder if I'm looking like an idiot introducing myself to the same person twice. When lunch time rolls around, I don't know where to eat. I don't have anyone to sit with. I don't want to take anybody's territory. I settle with walking. I eat and walk. I explore the campus. I feel the California summer heat beating down on me, and I start to sweat. I try to identify where my last two classes will be. I do my best to not look like I have no friends.

As the bell rings at the end of lunch, I am already sitting next to my fifth period chemistry classroom. And so, once again, I am the first person to take a seat. Kira turns out to be the second person to arrive in the classroom; she zeros in on me, and sits right next to me. I can't believe that anybody is seeking me out.

“Hi there!” Kira says enthusiastically.

I'm thinking to myself, '
who is this person?
' as I try to search my mind for everybody I've met today, and so I give her a less enthusiastic greeting.

“Don't you remember me?! We met at the library this morning when you were getting your history book.”

I dig this incident out of the recesses of my memory, “Oh yeah! What is your name again?”

Kira introduces herself, and we get to talking. She tells me about all of the different people in our class, who she thinks is hot, and what other people have said about our teacher. Kira is the first person who has taken notice of me all day, and it looks like I finally have an “in” to this community.

“Can I hang out with you and your friends at lunch tomorrow?” I tentatively ask, as Kira applies her lip gloss and checks herself out in a hand mirror.

She stops and looks at me, “Sure! We hang out by the stage in the quad.”

The rest was history. Kira and I became lab partners in our Chemistry class, we hung out during lunch time, we discussed our crushes together, and we laughed together. Once I got my driver's license, I drove her home from school every day, and we spent hours talking about whatever was on our minds, and on the weekends we would hang out so late that my mom would yell at me when I got home. People who knew us at the school would call us two peas in a pod… which, we really were. I felt like Kira understood me better than anyone else, that I could have quality time with her regardless of what we were doing, and that I could make her laugh. It got to the point where we didn't have to say anything; we could both look at each other, know what the other was thinking, and burst out into laughter.

I loved everything about Kira. She had lived in Russia for the first half of her life, and I enjoyed listening to her accent. She had a unique sense of humor that really tickled my fancy. She would drop everything to be there for me when I needed her. She would drop everything for me even when I didn't need her, just so that we could be together. Kira had become the kind of best friend I had always wanted.

 

I am brought back to the present, where Kira and I are still holding hands in the mall, as a cloud starts shading my thoughts. This is the last definitive chance I am going to have to see Kira before she leaves tomorrow to visit Russia for two months. This will be her first time returning to Russia since she moved to California. I don't know what I am going to do without her here in California. Who am I going to talk to when I need a listening ear? When am I going to get the chance to relax and really be myself?

There has been talk amongst our families about the possibility of me going to Russia with Kira. She can act as my translator. But, we didn't come up with the idea in time for me to get a VISA before she leaves. We have been discussing the idea that I could join Kira in Russia later, after I have gotten my VISA. But this is still uncertain. The prospect of meeting Kira in Russia is my glimmering ray of hope to save this summer.

“Kira, how am I going to tell you when I'm coming to meet you in Russia?”

“You can just call my parents and let them know. They'll pass it on to me.”

“Can I just call you?” I don't see the point of having her parents as the middle man.

“Well, my relatives in Russia are poor, so they can't afford many long distance calls,” she says, hesitantly.

“It would just be one phone call,” I point out to her.

“They have a system worked out so that my parents pay for the calls,” she informs me.

I'm starting to feel road blocked. “I can't even, like, email you?” I can hear a little whine in my voice.

“I'm afraid not…. My relatives don't have access to the internet.”

It always amazes me to hear about how different things are in Russia. “Wow, are you serious?” I ask incredulously. Kira nods, reflecting my amazement back to me on her face. “Ok, I guess I'll call your parents then,” I assent, realizing there truly will be no way for me to communicate with my best friend for the next two months.

Pulling away from the curb in front of Kira's house after I drop her off is just about one of the hardest things I have ever done. All I want to do is turn around, kidnap her, and drive off on an adventure. But sadly, I can't spend any more time with Kira today because she has to pack to leave, among other things. What am I going to do with myself while my best friend is in Russia this whole summer? What will have happened by the time I see her again? Is this summer going to be like my last one, wandering around my house with nobody to hang out with?

Rather than sit at home and waste away the first Friday evening of the summer feeling sorry for myself, I call up Ramon on my cell. He is what I would call my best guy friend…who I also happen to have a crush on. I know this is a bad move on my part, having a crush on someone who is “just my friend,” but I can't help it. I just like him. Ramon just graduated yesterday in the class of 2003, and I'm going to miss seeing him around campus during my senior year. He is Hispanic, but has a very light skin tone. He has moss colored eyes, a long neck, and a flat forehead and nose. He is about 5'10” and a good weight for his height. He has thick hair that almost reminds me of fur, which he keeps shaved at about half an inch.

“Ramon, what are you doing?” I can feel my insides are shaking in anticipation of his answer.

“Nothing.” I can't believe what I'm hearing.

“Could I come over?” My voice is shaking as it trails off.

“Okay. Sure.” A grin spreads across my face.

I am over there in five minutes. That's one of the blessings of Verdad…it is tiny. Ramon is in his room playing a video game on his TV. He has the sound on, and it keeps beeping in response to whatever he's doing. Every time the game beeps, it feels like something is crawling under my skin.

“Can you stop playing that?” I can hear a whine in my voice.

“Why?”

“Because… it's annoying.” Ramon doesn't respond. I roll my eyes, realizing that asking nicely isn't going to get me anywhere. Pretty soon, I am tugging at the control to get it out of his hands.

“What?” It sounds like he's trying to mock me.

BOOK: The Convenience of Lies
11.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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