You're No Good At Lying

“Thank you,” a girl said politely, handing Spencer a crisp twenty-dollar bill in exchange for a t-shirt. Spencer forced a smile to her face, and when the girl walked away she slumped back into the plastic chair. Selling t-shirts for the band had been harder work than she thought it was going to be, especially since she had only gone back to her brother’s bus at about one thirty last night. Jack and Alex had to walk her there because she had no idea where she was going, and while she expected Morgan to forgive her for what she had done and said to him, he didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Still, he had never been mad at her for more than a day, and since Spencer wasn’t sure exactly what she had done to bother him (her outburst on the All Time Low bus was no different than her outbursts at home) she figured he’d come around on his own.

“Maybe you should apologize,” came a voice suddenly, and Spencer didn’t recognize it until she saw Zack standing in front of her. He was shirtless, like he was last night, and a couple of girls stopped about fifteen feet away to whisper to each other if it was really him or not. “You know, so he’ll forgive you.”

“Why?” Spencer asked calmly, eyeing the boy in front of her with caution and skepticism.

“Because it’ll make you feel better, and because you embarrassed him.” He pressed, his tone just as relaxed as hers.

“Why should he be embarrassed?” Spencer questioned, pushing back a piece of brown hair that had escaped her loose bun. “There were condom wrappers in your trash.” When Zack didn’t reply, Spencer continued, “Along with beer bottles and cigarettes.”

“You went looking in our trash?” Zack asked, a soft smile coming to his face. But Spencer didn’t smile; she didn’t see what was so funny at all.

“No, I saw what was in your trash. I didn’t go looking. Like how I can see you have your phone and some keys in your jean pocket right now.” Zack touched his front right pocket gently, as if reminding himself that he did in fact have those previously mentioned things on his person.

“Well if you’re such a little know-it-all, where do the keys unlock?” He pressed, his eyes glaring down at Spencer.

“I’m smart, not a mind reader.” She said flatly. Zack didn’t respond at first, and then a small smile showed up on his lips. “Why are you smiling?” She asked, her brow creasing in confusion. “I just got the last word, you didn’t.”

Zack drilled his fingers against the plastic table before quickly removing his hand. “Because you make me laugh, Spencer.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he turned and walked away before she could, leaving her more confused than ever.

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“Oh, it’s you again,” mumbled Spencer as she began to pack up the shirts that she hadn’t been able to sell today. “What do you want now?”

“Nothing,” Zack replied, leaning against the table and toying with one of the hems of the left over shirt. Spencer gripped the collar of the shirt and ripped it away from his grasp forcefully. “How was your first day on the job?”

It was long, hard, hot, and annoying. But Spencer wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “It was fine.” She finally responded. Spencer glanced up at him again, realizing that, like always, he still had no shirt on. “Would you mind putting a top on?” She asked.

“Why?” Zack questioned.

“Because it’s –“

“Distracting?” He laughed at his own joke, infuriating Spencer even more.

“No, because it shows how you’re not comfortable enough with your own personality or intelligence level, and feel the need to gain attention by showing off your body.” Her tone wasn’t harsh like her thoughts were, instead flat and expressionless. Spencer tossed the last shirt into the cardboard box and began attempting close the box, but struggled when one shirt kept popping out.

“Here,” Zack mumbled, walking around the table and closing the cardboard box with ease.

“Thank you,” Spencer responded, wondering for a second if she had gone too far. No, she hadn’t. It was obviously true that Zack didn’t feel confident with his own personality or intellect, and Spencer could never lie like that just to make a person feel good about themselves. That would be setting them up for defeat.

“Look, what are you doing tonight?”

“Sleeping,” Spencer responded without so much giving it a second thought as to what he was talking about. Her hand froze as she nearly finished labeling the boxes, wondering if he was asking what she thought he was asking. “Why?” She asked softly, refusing to look up.

“Because I want to hang out with you.” He responded, and when Spencer shifted her gaze up she could see he was smiling.

“Like… you, me, and everyone else in your band?” She replied slowly, enunciating her words carefully.

“Spencer,” Zack said, suddenly bursting into laughter that made her cheeks pink, “You don’t go on dates with groups of people. So do you want to go or not?”

“S – sure,” she stuttered out, and while Zack may not have been able to catch it, Spencer certainly could. Stuttering and not knowing how to respond to a person, those were things that never happened to Spencer. Why was this happening to her? Sure, Spencer had never been asked out on a date before, but that didn’t mean she was a total lost cause around guys. What kind of powers did Zack hold over her, and how could she get them back?

Zack grinned, his fingers brushing softly against hers as he recalled his hand from the table. “Awesome,” he replied, looking down at the silver watch on his wrist. “I’ll pick you up at your bus in two hours. You don’t have to get dressed up all fancy and stuff – I have other plans in mind.”

“You – you do?” Spencer asked, but it was too late. Zack had already turned and began walking back towards his bus, and once again, he had gotten the last word.

Damn.