Started With a Lie

Chapter Seven

            I sit up causing my head to pound with pain. I wince. I rub my eyes open. “Mom, I’m awake. Shut up already!”

            You can imagine what a surprise it was to see Lee there instead… without a suit on. No, it wasn’t like he was naked—unfortunately. I wonder what he looked like under his shirt.

            I shake my head free from these thoughts. It’s too early to be thinking about such things. I scrunch up my face, disgusted with myself. Lee’s standing there in a normal t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He almost looks normal.

            I notice I’m partly naked—still wearing the dress from the party. I scream, covering myself with the covers. “Lee! What’re you doing?!”

            “Waking you up,” he yells back. “It’s almost noon! Wake up. You’re so unladylike for a lady. Who sleeps this late? Don’t you have to catch up with your class or something?”

            “So unladylike for a lady,” I repeat, mimicking his tone. Lee sends me a glare. “Whatever. I sleep this late. Now, leave me alone.” I pull myself back to the bed, covering my face in the pillow.

            Lee pulls my legs and I’m dragged out of bed… literally. It’s like one of those horror movies where the stupid female lead is hiding in the most obvious place and gets dragged to her death by the killer.

            “How can you sleep after last night?” Lee asks, still shouting and pulling me out of bed. I sit up, kicking his hands away from my legs.

            I freeze. Last night? What happened lazy night? Something happened. What was it? I can’t remember but I know it’s important. Something important. I can’t remember. I groan in frustration.

            “Why can’t I remember?” I ask Lee, confused.

            “Well after taking the many drinks that you did, of course you can’t remember,” Lee explains, crossing his arms. He rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you underage?”

            “Shut up,” I tell him, getting up. I shove him out of my way. I hear him mutter something like “rude.” I walk to the kitchen, barefoot and still in my dress. I fix it so it’s not hitching up my legs and chest. Getting a glass, I pour some water for myself and finish it.

            Something pops out of nowhere in my mind. A memory—tons of memories: a kiss, flashes of cameras, lies, smelling some nice cologne, hugging someone to sleep—hugging Lee to sleep.

            I gasp, dropping the glass.

            It doesn’t break, though. The glass drops to the table sideways. Maybe expensive glasses are sturdier, I think.

            Lee is standing behind me with a smirk plastered on his stupid, shiny face. “So, you remember?” I stay completely still. I don’t breathe. I feel like he can smell my fear… or that’s just the alcohol from last night.

            “I-I don’t remember.” There goes another lie.

            “Really?” Lee says. He pulls out something out of his pocket of his plaid pajamas and lays it on the table. They’re pictures. Does he usually carry random things in his pajamas?

            The pictures are of us kissing.

            I need to mentally tuck this moment under “another awkward moment with Lee” in my head. It’s always awkward with Lee. I slowly pick up the pictures and go through them. I’m speaking in some, Lee’s glaring at me in others, but to others it might look like an affectionate look.