Believe Me, I'm Lying

:Believe Me, I'm Lying: 12

"Do you think Oliver will tell?"

Melissa raised her eyebrow; setting down the milk carton she had been just about to drink from. "Oli? No, I don't think he will. He may be a jerk, but he's not that much of a jerk."

"Really?"

Melissa hesitated, making me sigh again. I turned back to my tray of food, mashing my mashed potatoes flat with my fork and then scooping some up into my mouth. They weren't half bad for school food.

"It's kind of hard to believe you're my age," Melissa whispered, leaning closer to me. "You definitely look it, but I believed you when you said you were twenty-one too. But I have a question..."

"What?"

"How can you be a teacher?" she asked. "You're way too young to know anything."

"I worked in a bakery for about a year," I told her, "so I know how to cook. And my uncle is the principal of this school, so that's how I got hired."

Melissa nodded. "I knew that part. What about school?"

"I'm home-schooled."

"Oh, you must be one busy person then."

"You don't even know," I told her with a sigh, swirling my fork around in the mashed potatoes again. "Will is very helpful though."

"Who's Will?"

"Um, my neighbor."

"Is he old or young?"

I raised an eyebrow. "He's in his twenties, why?"

"Just wondering," Melissa responded, shrugging her shoulders. "Is he cute?"

I laughed. "Yes, Melissa, he's very cute. But he's also very fatherly."

"What about your real father?"

My eyes dropped to the floor and I bit my lip. Did I want to tell Melissa? I knew I did. I had a feeling she would be my best friend in no time. But even though I thought that, my stomach twisted uncomfortably. It wasn't even that big of a deal. I should just be able to say it!

"My father... um...." I began to pick at the hem of my shirt, trying to decide how to say it. "He's..."

"Harley, are you going to eat your apple?"

I looked up at Melissa in confusion, narrowing my eyes. "No, do you want it?"

"Yes."

"Okay... here," I said, handing the apple over to her.

"Thank you. So how are you liking the school?" she asked, putting the apple on her tray.

I stared at her in confusion. Wasn't she just asking about my father? Why the sudden change in topic? Melissa raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for an answer.

"It's not that bad," I finally responded, shrugging my shoulders. "Especially compared to what I expected it to be. You know. Fights, fires, that kind of stuff."

"Fights and fires?" Melissa asked with a laugh. "There are a lot of fights, but since I've been here, I haven't seen any fires."

"How long have you been here?"

"Just two years," she told me. "Freshman, and now sophomore."

"If you don't mind me asking... why are you here?"

Melissa smiled slightly. "Oliver."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oliver?"

"Yeah. I didn't do anything, but Oliver did. So when Oliver was transferred here, my mom made me transfer as well because she didn't want to drive to different schools every morning and afternoon."