The Lies we Steal (The Hollow Boys Book 1)

Briar

The month of October had begun to fade away as quickly as it arrived. The halls were decorated for the occasion, everything sporting something spooky or orange. Carved pumpkins in the commons, puny lines written on the chalkboards. 

Fall had fully wrapped its arms around seaside Oregon, making it impossible to walk outside without a jacket and as Halloween approached, the less excited I became. 

Finals were already posted for all of my classes, all of them somewhere in the first week of December which meant I was already studying for them. November would be nothing but flash cards and highlighters. 

I used to love Halloween. 

Not the dressing up, but because of the Syfy’s Thirty-One Days of Halloween. Curling up on the couch after school with my parents with a bag of candy corn and popcorn to watch old horror films. All of us laughing at the shitty graphics or the cheesy plots. There wasn’t much that could beat that. 

This year I’d barely watched any of them. 

My life felt enough like a thriller movie as it was. 

Then there was this ball that was coming up next week. I’d always wanted to try dressing up in a fancy dress, because it wasn’t something I’d been able to do before. But knowing I was only going to just disappear seconds after it started just to help four people I couldn’t care less about, well it took away the fun.

Even when Thomas gave me money to go shopping for a dress. Even after Lyra and I had picked them out, I still couldn’t make myself excited for this. Vindictively, I hoped I couldn’t get into the safe or there was an alarm so they would get caught. 

On the other hand if they got busted, so would I. They would get a slap on the wrist and I’d be expelled. Lyra had been right from the start, they were untouchable here. Years and years of reputation built off their last names made punishing them impossible. 

“True or false, a recursive function must have some way to control the number of times it repeats.” Lyra asks from across the library table, a Twizzlers hanging from the side of her mouth as she leans back in her chair, the legs lifting off the ground a bit. 

I rest my head on my hands as I look down at the table, “True.” 

“Correct! Another one right for the math whiz.” She announces, tossing the flash card onto the pile in front of us. We sat across from each other, both of us with open laptops and at least three books apiece open, notes, pens, highlighters. We’d thought mingling finals studies into our time made sense, until we were trying to focus on three things at once while trying to write four-page papers. 

How is it that I’m a math major and I’m still writing fucking papers? 

I pick up one of the blue index cards, “Tell me the lipids structure.” 

Lyra was majoring in entomology, of course, with a minor in biology. When she graduates she wanted to do clinical research on how certain insects may have potential medical significance. 

When she told me I thought she was a little crazy, but then I thought about how snake venom is used in some heart medications, so why couldn’t we use insects? 

“Monomer, glycerol and three fatty acids. Elements include carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen.” She chews a piece of the red twisty candy, swallowing, before I nod. 

“Do you even need to study?” I arch my eyebrow, smiling. 

“Probably not,” She shrugs, throwing her candy at me. It hits me in the chest causing us both to laugh. 

It was moments like these where I felt the most comfort. When my life had become everything I’d wanted. Study sessions with someone I could call my friend. 

Absent-mindedly, I rub my thumb over my middle finger like I’m playing with a ring. The slightly raised skin under my knuckle makes me look down. Still in shock that it’s even there to begin with. 

“Does it hurt?” Lyra asks curiously. 

The makeup I’d put over it, was starting to fade and I’d need to reapply it soon. 

“No. I think it would be better if it did hurt.” 

“Why?” 

“Then I’d be more inclined to hate it.” 

I’d promised myself that I’d be open and honest with Lyra about everything. Including the fact that the tattoo itself was beautiful. I loved the way the letters fit in the space of my finger, the A and C designed to swirl around like vines around rose bushes. 

I thought about getting it covered up with an actual rose when this was all said and done. Just to shove it back into Alistair’s face that anything he threw at me I could handle. 

Even if it was a permanent memory of him. 

“Should I be offended that I wasn’t invited to this study session?” Easton Sinclair’s voice reminds me of coffee in the morning. Smooth, warm, everything you need to start your day. 

I lift my head, looking over at him with a smile, “Extremely offended.” I joke, “I lost your number or I would have invited you.” 

Small white lie. I did lose it. After purposely throwing it away. Easton was nice, I’m sure he was a great guy, and given the opportunity I might accept a date offer from him, but not while he had a girlfriend. 

One from what I’ve seen is pretty nice. I mean, she looks at me like I should be shinning her shoes, but she still seems nice. And no one deserves to be cheated on, ever. 

My mama taught me that if he cheats with ya, he’ll cheat on ya. Cue the Texas accent. 

“No worries.” He replies smoothly, “Hey Lyra,” Waving softly to acknowledge my roommate’s presence. 

“Hello,” She flutters her fingertips in a wave back, picking up another piece of candy and chewing it. 

“I asked my dad about the fruit trees for next year and I think I’ve won him over with the idea of a cherry tree. No more waiting on shipments to the grocery store.” 

Lyra’s eyes burst with light, fireworks exploding inside of them. I crinkle my eyes at him suspiciously, winning over my friend was a smooth move. I’d admit. 

“That’s so cool, thanks Easton.” She replies, excitement in her voice. The ability to just walk outside her dorm and pick cherries off the tree was all Lyra needed to be happy. And bugs, obviously. 

“I’m actually glad I ran into you, I wanted to ask you something,” He returns his attention to me, placing his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels a bit. 

“Sure, what’s up?” I close my applied mathematics book, giving him my attention. 

“The All Hallows Eve ball next Friday, if you haven’t already sworn off going, I wanted to know if you’d go with me. I’ll even make sure to let you poke me with the corsage my mother will inevitably buy for us.” His floppy blonde hair falls in front of his face a bit, blue eyes confident. 

He knows I’ll say yes. 

I mean who would say no to Easton Sinclair? 

I wasn’t sure if I found the confidence attractive or annoying. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“I’m shocked, I mean, flattered.” I laugh out, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, “But aren’t you going with Mary? I’m pretty sure I voted for you two for Hallow Queen and King.” 

“Mary and I broke up last week.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “It just wasn’t working out, we felt it would be best if we were just friends.” 

“So you’re single?” I stall. 

“As single as one could be. Is that a yes?” 

Did I want to go with him to this? Possibly. Easton was cute, he was likable, and everyone loved him. I’m sure he’d be a perfect gentleman, hold the door open for me, call me pretty when he saw me in my dress. 

There wasn’t a reason to say no, not anymore. 

Yet, I still wanted to say no and not just because I’d have to ditch him once we arrived. I was attracted to Easton, I just didn’t like him. Not enough to date him. When you think about guys you like, you are supposed to think about what it feels like for them to kiss you, how your body will fit with theirs, the way they make your heart race. 

All I think about with him is platonic friendship. 

“I’d love to, but I—” 

“She already has a date.” 

The squealing of chairs ring in my ears, the one directly beside me gets pulled out roughly before someone’s weight is dropped into the wooden seat. Rook, slides into the chair next to Lyra, a smirk on his lips as he rolls the match around with his tongue. 

My shadow returns behind me, casting over everything else around me. He absorbs it all, stealing all the light and pulling me deeper into the dark with him. That’s where he wants me. Right there in the shadows with him. They always said in movies the light defeats the dark. That good wins over evil, so why is it that he is able to destroy anything that even tries to challenge him? 

Good, light, it was no match for him.

“Ladies.” Rook offers with a sly wink. I watch Lyra, look at him out of the corner of her eye, picking her chair up and moving it farther away from him.

“I’m sorry, what?” Easton asks trying to play catch up with this situation. I’m sure when he thought about asking me, Alistair Caldwell and his friends were not a part of the equation.

“I said,” Alistair grabs the edge of my seat, tugging it closer to him, pulling me further into his web, “She already has a date.” 

I feel his head, right next to my head. The way he leans into my body smelling my hair and I only make it worse by falling into his chest. Completely by accident of course, the jolt of sudden movement rattles my balance. 

His toned arm slinks over the top of my shoulder and around my neck, dangling over my body, his fingers swinging confidently right above my belly button. 

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek, “Easton this isn’t, he,” I wave my hands softly, trying not to make this look any worse than it already is. 

“He isn’t what? Your boyfriend?” He spits out, disgusted that I’m even allowing Alistair to touch me. Even though he probably has more money than Easton could imagine, he still looked down on the man behind me. Like he was somehow better than him. 

“No, he’s not,” I grind my teeth, turning my head a bit to throw a sideways glance over my shoulder. “We are just…” I drag out the word tasting funky on my tongue, “Friends.” 

I feel his lips move against my hair, tilting up into a smirk. 

Cocky fucking bastard. When Easton walks away I’m punching him right in the dick for this. I knew we had to look friendly so it wasn’t strange to anyone why we were together at the ball, but this was crossing a line. 

“Come on, Little Thief. We’re more than friends,” he whispers for only my ears, “You haven’t told the golden retriever about how your little pussy was dripping on my knee the other night? Practically begging me for it.” 

I shiver and not because it’s cold. 

“She’s mine, Sinclair. I’m sure you can find another hopeless girl you can con with your whack ass knight in shining armor act.” Alistair says loudly, never moving his head from next to mine. 

Easton’s eyes have become a hurricane of anger. The once light blue color that looked like happy skies, have become dark, veracious warning signs before a storm tears through the land. 

“This is the kind of guy who you want to spend your time with, Briar? A fucking asshole with no morals? His own family can’t even stand him, he’s a nobody.” Easton slings the harsh words out like a whip, hoping to clip someone in the process. 

I didn’t know much about Alistair in the family department, but I also didn’t think it was Easton’s place to be judging other people. He has no idea what goes on behind the closed door of the Caldwell home. 

Was Alistair a hellion with anger issues that made me what to run far away from him? Yes. 

But I doubt he became that way after being raised by a loving family. 

Everyone has secrets. Everyone has a story. 

Even the heroes. 

Even the villains. 

“A nobody who’s fucking the girl you’re drooling over.” 

I gasp at his response, ready to deny that immediately, but Easton is already firing back. Shaking with disbelief, a switch flipping in his demeanor, 

“Drooling? Please, she’s a new girl with a nice ass, but not even that is worth dealing with you or your deranged friends.” 

I shouldn’t be surprised. 

But it still stings. 

Boys like Easton are a dime a dozen. The pretty ones who seem to have it all, who smooth talk their way right into your heart only to step on it when you don’t give them what they want. 

I could at least respect Alistair and the fact he was upfront about what an asshole he was. He never tried to be something he wasn’t. What you saw is what you get, even if you didn’t like it. 

“You probably weren’t even a good lay anyways.” He grumbles, looking down at me like I was dirt beneath his shoe.

“I thought we were friends.” I say a little loudly, causing the librarian to shh me, her eyes slitted and filled with aggravation. I glance around at the other students watching us, my cheeks warming up.

“Friends? You looked gullible and like an easy lay. You’re just a girl from the gutter.” He states, “There’s no Prince Charming for you. Welcome to your life, Briar, one-night stands and quick fucks, it’s what you were made for.” 

I don’t get a second to even think of retaliating because Lyra has already jumped to my defense, 

“Eat a dick. Take your bruised ego somewhere people give a shit.” 

He leaves without another word, letting all of us settle into what just happened. 

I spin around, facing Alistair, “And you,” I point my finger at him, “I’m doing this one thing for you. That’s it. We are not friends, we sure as hell are not fucking. You cannot come around pissing on me like you’re marking your territory.” 

It seems I’m failing miserably at being serious from the looks of it. I swallow nervously as he slants his head, arching an eyebrow up at me as if to ask without words, what did you just say to me? 

My pointer finger retracts, just as he curls his hand around my wrist. The lights in the library illuminate his eyes, showing me the chocolate swirls inside of them. I’d become so used to the midnight black shade, that the newfound color was a shock. 

He inclines forward, his breath skating across my skin as he keeps our eyes locked together. Surprising me, he slides my middle finger into his mouth. 

A gasp flying from my lips as I watch him. The way his warm mouth encases my finger and how his soft tongue swirls around the base makes my toes tingle. I bite down hard on the inside of my lip.

Leisurely, he removes his mouth from me. Dropping my wrist and swiping his thumb across his bottom lip, 

“Don’t cover that up,” He looks down at the tattoo on my finger, “and I won’t have to go pissing anywhere.” The floor groans as she pushes his chair away from me, standing up to tower over me. 

I try to ignore how attractive he is in the daylight. How the sun almost makes him seem normal. The way it reflects off his tanned skin and highlights the edges of his lean body. 

Balling my hands into fist, before briefly looking down at where he’d licked. The makeup that was once there is gone, thanks to his saliva that had dissolved the product. Which was what he wanted to happen of course. 

Fucking prick. 

The sounds of his boots fall away on my ears, signaling his departure, but not before he turns around to face me, walking backwards as he speaks, 

“And Briar,” He starts, “make sure you wear something pretty for me Friday.”