Page 81 of Little Lies


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He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Really? ’Cause you’re losing it over the idea of someone you apparently can’t stand getting action. Look, man, I don’t know what the deal is with you and Lavender, or what happened between you to make things how they are, but you need to stop torturing her. This is not you, man. You are not this person.” He motions to me. “She doesn’t deserve whatever this is.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He throws his hands in the air. “You’re right. I don’t know. No one does because the two of you talk around shit and say nothing. What happened when you were kids? Better yet, what happened two years ago at Christmas? And why are you so determined to make her miserable? Hasn’t she already been through enough?”

I can’t answer any of those questions. Not with any kind of honesty. So I don’t. Instead, I turn around and head for the stairs.

“You’re such an idiot,” BJ grumbles, but he doesn’t stop me.

I pause outside my bedroom door. I should leave it alone. Leave Lavender alone. But I can’t stand the idea of her up there with that guy. If I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone else to have her either. And that’s really what it comes down to.

I made it this way. It’s my fault.

I move toward the stairs leading up to Lavender’s bedroom. Her ivory tower. The untouchable princess. I take the stairs slowly, avoiding the ones that creak. Because I’ve come up here so many times since I moved in—sat outside the door, wanting to tell her the truth. Listened to the sound of her sewing machine humming, her soft voice when she sings her favorite songs.

It’s almost a travesty that so few people know what a beautiful voice she has. Almost. But I like that I still know so many of the pieces of herself she keeps hidden.

When she moved into the dorms, I broke down again and picked the lock so I could marinate in my own misery like I deserved.

I wrap my hand around the doorknob and press my forehead against the wood. The familiar scent of lavender permeates through. She’s always searching for the calm that’s so hard to find and hold on to, despite her name.

Her soft laugh makes my heart ache.

God. When was the last time I heard that sound?

Years, I’m sure.

It’s followed by silence, and a million scenes float through my head like a flipbook—all of them ones I don’t want to be real.

I turn the knob, and the door flies open. This should be the first sign I’m overreacting, but I’m already in panic mode, and rational thought has completely deserted me. All I want is to stop whatever this is—the spinning in my head, the fear that the damage I’ve done, and continue to do, has become completely irreparable.

Lavender is sitting on her bed, legs crossed. She’s lost the sweatshirt, leaving her in a tank top that shows way too goddamn much cleavage. Her back is to the headboard and Josiah mirrors her, elbows propped on his knees, their heads bent together. Her hand on his knee. Touching him.

“This is not happening!” I bark.

Lavender gives me a look like I’ve gone insane. “What the hell, Kodiak?”

“This right here is bullshit.” I point at Josiah. “You are so out of your league, you’re not even in the same fucking time zone.”

Lavender gapes at me. “Have you lost your damn mind? What do you think you’re doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I flail like an idiot, motioning between them. On her fucking bed.

She lifts up her textbook. “Studying for a test, so you should take your meltdown elsewhere.”

“Bull-fucking-shit, Lavender.” I take another step into the room, submerging in her scent, in her everything. I need him gone, and I’ll do just about anything to make it happen. I sneer at her. “Does he know what you’re really like?”

“What’re you talking about?” Red creeps into her cheeks.

“Does he have any idea what you do when you’re alone?” I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, other than being pissed off and highly irrational.

“Other than sew and avoid you?”

Damn, I love how sassy she can be now. I scoff and hate myself before I’ve even had the chance to speak, this time to Josiah. “She’s not as innocent as you might think, are you, Lavender?”

It looks like his eyes are going to pop out of his head, and his hands are raised in the air, as if he’s being held at gunpoint. Lavender just looks confused.

My next course of action is damning in so many ways. For her. For me. I stalk over to her bed and stop beside the nightstand.

“Seriously, Kodiak, get out of my room.” Her voice wavers, a nervous edge to it.

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