Dirty Faces- Book 1

Chapter 33: Untruths

Chapter 33: Untruths

"More coffee, hun?"

The gravelly voice brought him back to the outside world he just seemed to keep slipping out of this day. Kody smiled and pushed the cup toward Peggy. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

He stared at the nicotine stains on the old waitress' fingertips as she refilled the chipped, white coffee cup, and thanked her again before she walked away because everybody knew Peggy didn't hear too well these days.

"Awful late in the day to still be drinking that stuff," said the pretty little thing sitting across from him. "Rough night?"

He met Leslie's gaze with a weak smile. "Something like that."

More like 'exactly like that'. If he'd slept at all the previous night, he'd forgotten. But when morning had come and Mama had offered to give him a ride into town, he knew he should take her up on it. He'd done a pretty fair job of keeping himself busy so far, but sitting still in the cool diner now made him miserably aware of the effects of his sleep deprivation. Tonight, he knew, he would sleep like the dead. That was something to look forward to.

Leslie's big, brown eyes studied him as she sipped on her strawberry milkshake. Any other day he'd wish he was the straw, but not this day. This day, he wished to be anywhere but here. It was baffling how that way she had of putting him at ease just by being near her was today working the exact opposite. Kody stared down into the coffee cup, all the while feeling her eyes on him. Without even saying a word, she was chipping away at the wall he'd put up, and that was terribly disconcerting.

Finally, she took her pretty lips off the straw and spoke. "You thinking about tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"I take it y'all will be leaving out pretty early in the morning?"

"Probably around daylight," he replied.

She bit her lip, absentmindedly stirring her milkshake with the straw. "You driving?"

"Yeah, I'll be driving Lilly."

"How long does it take to get there?"

He shrugged. "Several hours, I reckon."

She seemed satisfied with his answers and resumed quietly sipping her milkshake. He was relieved to find that she associated his distance today with the impending trip to Cleveland, that she hadn't read any further into it. That part of him that wanted to tell her everything wanted to tell her. Keeping anything from her seemed wrong, and he hated that it felt that way. He'd known he couldn't pretend nothing was wrong and expect her to buy it. Pretending was for kids anyway, but he realized he was going to have to get better at lying, or at the very least, playing dumb.

He had heard the stories about what didn't actually happen at the old foreman's house for as long as he could remember, and would continue to do so as long as he was stuck in this little town. But it would be different now. Now he was one of the few who actually knew the truth, but would continue having to let on like he was just as clueless as everybody else. Not to say that he'd ever had a problem keeping his mouth shut, because he hadn't. It was just that it was so wrong yet so necessary that it bothered him like it did. In truth, going to Cleveland was a blessing, because it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the dilemma for as long as they were there. 

There had always been something, something that he just couldn't put his finger on, that made him different from anyone he knew. Even around the few people he trusted, he still felt out of place. He didn't know if anyone thought he was weird; no one had ever told him he was, but he'd always felt a little bit weird inside. And now, knowing that his entire family was an accessory to murder, trusting and relating to people was just going to be that much harder.