Part 12 (1/2)

”Fine,” I said. ”Think what you want to think.”

”I think that you're a mess. But not that kind of a mess. I like you. But I wish you wouldn't lie to me. You don't have to. You can tell me true things. You can tell me nothing at all. But I don't like you lying.”

”You want me to tell you a true thing? Okay, and I never told anyone this before.” I truly hadn't. I could feel myself holding my breath, getting ready to let it out. But Zach laughed.

”Never told anyone before? Tayshawn said that's what you said when you told him about being a girl and a boy.”

”Tayshawn told you that?” I asked, leaning against the wall, making myself smaller. Talking was making Zach not want to touch me. I wanted us to stop talking and start kissing.

”Tayshawn's my boy. You told him you'd never told anyone before, but then you went and told Chantal and Brandon and I don't know who else.”

”Well, they were giving me grief for pretending I was a boy. I wanted to shut them up.”

Zach didn't say anything but I could tell that he didn't believe me. Fair enough. It was a lie: I told them for the attention, for the pleasure of fooling them, for the look of shock on their faces.

Zach put his thumb to my mouth like he didn't want to hear it. My lips felt warm and tingling.

”How long you been lying for?” he asked. ”Tayshawn thinks you don't know how to tell the truth. Why is that?”

”How come you and Tayshawn talk about me?” I asked. I didn't want to answer his questions. ”I thought we were a secret!”

”We're guys, we don't talk about nothing. Not like girls do. I never told him about you and me. We're a secret. It was before, when everyone was talking about you.”

”Great.”

Zach laughed. ”Well, you pa.s.s for a boy, you lie inside out-people talk.” He held my face in both hands and then kissed me, a short closed-mouth kiss. Not the kind of kiss I was longing for. ”How long you been lying?”

”All my life,” I said, because he wanted honesty.

That's the truth. I don't know if Zach believed me, but I hope you do. Because you're the only one I've never lied to.

”What?” Zach asked, pulling his hands away. ”When you were a baby in your crib sucking on your pacifier you were telling lies?”

”Okay, so maybe I haven't been lying always. But from the time I started talking. I learned it from my parents. Well, my dad mostly. My mom's lies are white ones. 'You look fine.' 'Oh, is that what time it is?' You know.”

”Regular lies.”

I agreed. ”What about you? What kind of lies do you tell?”

”Regular ones. And as few as possible. I don't like 'em.”

”Why not?”

He shrugged. ”It's not right.”

”What do you tell Sarah when you're with me?”

”White lies. The kind that don't harm anyone. But your lies are crazy. Why would you pretend you was a boy? That you were born messed up? Why do you lie all the time?”

”If you've got a big secret it's best to paper it over with lots of little ones.”

”So what's your big secret, huh?”

The moment had pa.s.sed. I wasn't going to tell him about the family illness. ”I can't tell you.”

”I'll tickle it out of you,” he said, going for my armpits.

”No!” I yelled, trying to roll away, but I was against the wall. ”You will not!”

I grabbed for his wrists. He twisted away. He was on top of me and then I was on top of him and we were going around and around and there was less tickling and yelling and mouths were close and hearts were beating faster and I forgot what he was asking. Lost it in the taste of his mouth. The feel of his tongue and lips against mine.

”Micah,” Zach breathed, ”I don't care what you are.”

I did.

Do.

HISTORY OF ME.

You're wondering if we slept together, aren't you?

I know you are. It's what everyone wants to know. Did they?

Then there's me telling you about us in bed together. With no mention of whether our clothes are on or off. And we're doing what?

Talking.

You don't believe that's all we did, do you? Not with all that tickling and kissing and stuff. You want to know what else we did together. How far it went. First base? Second? Third? All the way home?

You know I'm on the pill so it's not like I'd get pregnant. You know I'm old enough. It wouldn't make me a s.l.u.t, would it? He was my only one. But then there's Sarah-Zach's real girlfriend. She's allowed to think that I'm a s.l.u.t, isn't she? I mean, it's her boyfriend we're talking about. If she's allowed, then everyone else can think it, too. Sleeping with someone else's boy is the definition of s.l.u.t.

Except that, as it happens-and not that this is any of your business-we weren't.

We didn't.

It was kissing and holding and hugging. Lots of kissing. But we never took our clothes off. Never got past that very first base. He didn't touch mine; my fingers got nowhere near his.

See?

I am a good girl after all.

I didn't kill him either.

AFTER.

For the first time in my life I want to be up at the farm, out of school, and out of the city. I want to go running with Hilliard. Have him show me some new tricks.

I know that after a few days up there I'll be longing to be back home, but right this instant it's what I want.

School is too much.