Started With a Lie

Chapter Two

            After slipping between billions of people, we escape to the kitchen where there are only a few people lingering around. At least there’s room to breathe. The familiar face from lunch walks over to us.

            I think Betsy is her name.

            “Hey guys!” Betsy says. “You made it!”

            I nod while Candy exclaims, “Yep! It’s so loud and crowded!”

            “That’s why it’s fun though,” Betsy says. “Are you guys having fun?”

            Candy nods in excitement. “It’s great! Peter’s house is so big! And where are his parents? Shouldn’t they be around?”

            “Yeah, they’re on business like usual. Peter told all the servants and maids to take a day off so he could throw this party and get away with it.”

            Candy’s jaw drops. “Really?”

            “Genius, isn’t it?” says Betsy. She’s just about to yap some more when someone calls her name. “I got to go. Have fun! Let’s chat later!”

            “Okay,” I say. She disappears into the sweaty sea of bodies. I feel bad for her. “So, now what do we do?” I ask Candy.

            She’s perched on top of the island counter in the kitchen. “Let’s go dance!”

            I shake my head. “No way.”

            She pouts. “Please?” I shake my head. “Pretty place?” I still shake my head. “Fine. I’ll go dance alone.”

            “I’ll be over by the couches,” I tell her, smiling gratefully.

            She glares at me before disappearing into the same place Betsy had gone to. I stalk away from the kitchen and squeeze my way through slimy bodies to get to an open seat on the couch. I breathe a sigh of relief of being able to sit down.

            I look around.

            Girls are wearing some dresses and skirts while guys were casual clothes. At least I dressed appropriately, I think as I run my eyes over random people. I can’t see Candy at all from where I’m sitting.

            The music suddenly stops and feedback from a microphone echoes throughout the living room. Everybody groans at the screech.

            Someone taps the microphone. I look up. It’s Peter. “Hey everyone! Hope you’re having a good time! Thanks for coming out to my annual party! Enjoy you guys!” he says. “Alright, now I’m going to let the DJ bring it back up.”

            Everybody shouts and cheers and screams Peter’s name. He takes a dramatic theatrical bow and jumps off the DJ stand. The music pumps back up over the speakers. Peter looks over the crowd—maybe checking to see if anyone has broken anything yet.

            His gaze lands on me.

            I don’t realize I’m staring back until he’s walking over to me. I dart my eyes in panic and sweat fills my palms. What do I do? What do I do?

            “Hi,” he says as he plops down on the seat next to me.

            “Hi,” I squeak like a mouse.

            “I didn’t know you’d be coming,” he says, grinning. A grin that makes my insides turn. The same grin I’d used to fall for every time … and I still do.