Page 79 of Kiss Now, Lie Later


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My grip tightens on the mug the second he says her name. “Yup.”

“Why the hell would she do that?” Chris wonders.

I shrug again.

“Maybe it was a dare,” Josh speculates.

I look up at him and see Caroline studying me closely. I shift under her shrewd gaze as I finish my coffee and stand.

“I’ve got to get going, guys. My mom’s probably worried. Thanks for letting me crash, Josh.”

“No problem, Cole,” Josh replies.

“You’re around later, right?” Chris asks as I head toward the door.

I pause. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m planning a team meeting. To brainstorm on how to get back at Glenmont for the horseshoes prank. It’s perfect now that we have another week. But we’ve got to give them enough time to clean up whatever we do, since they’re hosting Friday.”

I chuckle. “Okay. Just let me know when; I’ll be there.”

It only takes me a couple of minutes to drive home from Josh’s. My dad’s car is missing from the driveway, but I spot my mom’s in the garage. I head in the back door, and she’s there. Waiting.

“You missed your curfew by ten hours,” she informs me.

I sigh. “I know, I’m sorry. I crashed at Josh’s after the party, and I forgot to text you.”

“Weston…”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I mean it. It won’t happen again.”

She finally nods, then studies me a bit more closely. “Everything okay, Weston?”

“Yeah, I just had a bad night,” I respond.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

I shake my head.

“Okay. This happens again, there will be consequences. Got it?”

“Got it,” I affirm.

“Too bad about the storm last night, but you played well.”

“Thanks,” I reply as I head toward the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower.”

The first thing I do when I get upstairs is pop a couple of painkillers, and then I step under the steaming hot spray. The vaporous mist helps soothe my pounding head.

Back in my room, I pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then flop on my bed.

I stand only a few minutes later, restless. I grab a sweatshirt from the hook on the back of my door and head downstairs, tugging it over my head as I do. I can hear my mom washing dishes in the kitchen as I tie my sneakers and head out the front door.

The air outside is brisk, but the sunshine helps to temper the chill as I jog along the sidewalk. Usually I listen to music when I run, but there’s something cathartic about hearing nothing except the pound of my sneakers against the smooth pavement.

I run for a long time.

Longer than I intended to.

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