The Lies We Tell

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A/N: Well that took long enough, huh? I'm finally back! I wish I could say that the quality of this chapter makes up for how long it took me to write it, but alas, I'm not too pleased with it. I hope you still enjoy it though, and please don't hate me for its sadness and lack of Tyler. I promise I will make up for it next chapter. I would love to hear some feedback in the comments, good or bad. Thanks so much for reading lovelies!

Warnings: This chapter contains mentions of sex, dubious consent, and alcohol

This chapter is dedicated to payniss. The way she writes Troye and Tyler is fantastic, and her dialogue in particular never fails to impress me. It always has a perfect balance of cuteness and awkwardness and humor, that absolutely embodies Troyler. Go check out her story! Do it!

November 2013

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair for what was probably the fiftieth time, watching my reflection as it stubbornly flopped back to its original position. Logically I knew it didn’t matter. No one else would notice that my quiff was slightly disheveled, or the faint bags under my eyes, or the place where the sleeve of my patterned t-shirt refused to stay folded. And even if anyone did notice, who was I trying to impress anyway? Even so, I readjusted the shirt one last time before my phone buzzed where it lay on the side of the sink, the vibrations twice as loud against the marble.  I picked it up, already knowing that it would be a text from Kayla letting me know she was here.

Get in loser, we’re going clubbing 

I chuckled at the reference, and with one last dissatisfying glance in the mirror left my bathroom, heading upstairs and taking the steps two at a time. My parents were reading in the living room, it was nearly their bedtime, and they looked content and relaxed cozied into separate armchairs, bathed in pools of warm light from their respective lamps. Some part of me longed to stay there with them; a night out surrounded by sweaty strangers, none of whom were Tyler, sounded distinctly unappealing. But I had promised Kayla, and we didn’t see much of each other these days as it was. My mom looked up as I passed them. 

“You headed out, sweetie?” 

“Yeah,” I responded, pausing for a moment by her chair, “Kayla just texted me.” 

“Have fun,” my dad offered, not looking up from his book. I smiled and my mom chimed in quickly, 

“Be safe!” I bent to kiss her on the cheek. 

“Yeah, I will. ‘Night!” She patted my cheek fondly before I straightened up, heading towards the door. Right before I left my dad rumbled from his chair, 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” I left the house laughing, glad I was past the days of having to lie in order to go out at night. Kayla’s car was gleaming silver under a streetlight, headlights and engine on. I could see her in the driver’s seat and she was gleaming too. 

I slid into the car and was immediately enveloped by Kayla’s sweet scent and music streaming from the radio. She grinned at me through dark eye make up, leaning over the seats to hug me tightly. “It’s good to see you,” she whispered in my ear. I pulled away and sucked in a breath, making a face.

“I wish I could say the same…” She laughed, and soon I was laughing too. There is nothing like a friendship that has lasted too many years to be worth counting. It goes beyond finishing each other’s sentences; it’s more that we just don’t bother finishing most sentences at all. There’s no need to. We fly quickly through too many topics at once, making jokes that only would make sense to us, pausing to laugh at a song that plays on the radio, connected to some memory neither of us bother to give words to. There are silences too, sometimes long ones, but they don’t feel silent. Being with her is more effortless than being alone. 

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