Believe Me, I'm Lying

"She has to point out every little mistake I make! For example, if I spell waste— as in trash— instead of waist— as in your midriff— or if I accidentally forget to write the d in ‘and’, she points them out and scolds me. She doesn’t give me a break! It’s not like I’m the perfect speller. People make mistakes! Besides, fixing my mistakes is what my editor is for."

"Mhm…"

"And not only that, but if italicize a word that doesn’t need to be italicized, she gives me a whole lecture about when to italicize. She doesn’t know when I want to stress my words! She’s just… are you even listening?"

"Mhm…"

Will yanked the magazine I was reading out of my hand, and frowned at me. "What was I saying then?"

"You were complaining about Sherry… again," I responded, trying to grab my magazine.

Will shook his head. "She gets so annoying sometimes."

"I’m sure she’s only trying to help—"

"I don’t want her help," Will snapped moodily. "If you were a writer, you’d understand how annoying it is when people point out your mistakes and laugh."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You know how you get her to stop that?"

"How?"

"Don’t make mistakes."

Will smacked me over the head with the magazine. "Impossible."

"Then don’t complain," I snapped.

Will pursed his lips at me. "When are you going to work?"

"Whenever Oliver gets—"

The doorbell rang, cutting my sentence off. Will raised an eyebrow, and I quickly hopped off the couch.

"Is he your chauffeur?"

I ignored Will, hurrying towards Elliot’s room. "Elliot! Come here!"

My brother poked his head out of his bedroom door. "Pig?"

"Eli, go answer the door," I ordered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Do you remember Oliver?"

Elliot gave me a blank look.

"Olive?" I tried.

Elliot nodded in recognition. "Olive!"

I nodded my head. "He’s at the door. Open it for him."

Elliot nodded, and hurried towards the front door. I couldn’t help but grin in excitement as Elliot fumbled with the door handle for a moment, and then pulled it open. Oliver was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression bored. Then it turned to confusion as he realized no one was at the door. He lowered his gaze, and when his eyes landed on Elliot, they widened.

Just as Oliver opened his mouth to speak, Elliot spoke.

"Pig doesn’t like Olive! Go home!"

With that, Elliot slammed the door in Oliver’s face. My jaw-dropped in shock as Elliot proudly started striding towards me. Will started guffawing from the couch as I hurried towards the door in horror. Elliot watched me curiously as I brushed by him and swung the door open. Oliver stared at me, looking shocked.

"I’m so sorry," I apologized quickly. "Ignore Eli, I don’t know what he was—"

"Go away, Olive!" Elliot cried, pushing past my legs. "Pig—"

I put my hand on Elliot’s head, silencing him. I gave him a small smile. "El, it’s okay."

Elliot looked at me for a moment in confusion. "But Pig…" He then turned to Oliver, a frown on his face.

Oliver stared at Elliot for a few moments, mimicking his expression. Then Oliver looked away, shoving his hand into his pocket. "You ready?"

I blinked at him, a little disappointed in his response. Was I wrong? Did he actually not like children? I could feel myself pouting. "Yeah, let me just grab a jacket…"

I hurried to the living room where my peacoat was, frowning. A part of me wasn’t surprised by Oliver’s reaction— I was in a good mood earlier, and I was half teasing him. The other half was upset, because I thought maybe, somehow, if he liked children, we could become closer.

My peacoat wasn’t on the couch were I left it. Sighing lightly, I glanced at my coat rack. It wasn’t there either.

"Here."

I turned just in time to catch my peacoat Will had thrown at me. "Thanks."

"So, I’m curious," Will started, taking a few steps closer to me. He lowered his voice. "Is Oliver your boyfriend?"

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I quickly shook my head. "No, he’s just… an acquaintance.

Will nodded. "Good."

"Why?"

"I feel like I’ve seen that guy somewhere…"

I raised my eyebrow. "And why does that matter?"

"Wherever I saw him, it wasn’t good," Will clarified, furrowing his eyebrows. "But I can’t remember where…"

I blinked in surprise. What was Will talking about? He’d seen Oliver before? And it wasn’t good? An uneasy feeling washed over me, but I quickly forced it away. Oliver was a delinquent— Will probably saw him name and picture in the paper for something he did. That was all.

"Gotta go to work," I said quickly, moving around Will. "Make sure Elliot actually does work today…"

"Coming from the person who hasn’t done her school work in a week," Will called after me tauntingly.

I paused, whirling around to give him a sheepish grin. "We should probably catch up…"

"Tomorrow," Will assured me. "Now go."

With a nod to Will, I turned back around, heading towards the door again. Oliver was squatting at Elliot’s height, talking to him, a small smile on his mouth. When I grew closer Oliver’s eyes snapped onto me and he quickly stood up, looking away. A grin spread onto my face as I stopped just behind Elliot.

"Getting along?" I asked.

"Look!" Elliot cried, holding up a bundle of lollipops. "Olive gave them to me!"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Oliver, who was glaring at the wall. "Oh, did he?"

Elliot nodded vigorously. "Yes!"

So maybe my original thought wasn’t that far-fetched after all. Maybe Oliver really did like little kids…

"Let’s go," Oliver snapped, sounding irritated.

It took all I had to keep all my teasing comments to myself. "Alright."

"Wait!" Elliot cried, pushing past me, and grabbing onto Oliver’s pant leg. "Olive, will you come play Wii with me soon?"

Oliver’s hard expression immediately dropped as he looked down at Elliot. For a split second Oliver looked forlorn, but that expression was quickly replaced by a friendly smile. "Maybe one day."

"Pig? Can Olive come play Friday?"

Oliver glanced at me as I looked at Elliot in surprise. "Friday?"

Elliot nodded. "It’s okay, right? And Olive wants to too, right?"

Oliver and I exchanged a look. I grinned at him, and for a second he started grinning back, but then he quickly shifted to a frown. I immediately dropped my grin, a little dejected by his attitude.

"I don’t know Elliot," I murmered. "If Oliver wants to he’s welcomed to…"

Elliot turned to Oliver again, his eyes like saucers. "Do you want to?"

"Er…" Oliver hesitated, his gaze flickering to Elliot again. "That sounds fun," Oliver finally caved.

Elliot squealed happily. "Yay! Come with Pig after school!"

"Eli, that’s a little…" My brother gave me his puppy-dog look, and I felt myself giving in. "Okay."

"We’ve got to go," Oliver suddenly said. "C’mon."

"I’ll see you Friday!" Elliot chirped as I pulled on my peacoat.

"Bye, Eli," I responded, ushering him back into my apartment. "Bye, Will!" I called louder.

"See you later!"

Oliver and I walked silently down the hall to the parking lot. I climbed in the passenger’s seat, and Oliver appeared at the driver’s a few seconds later. Within seconds we were speeding down the road. I decided to speak.

"You, um, don’t have to come over Friday. Elliot might forget…"

Oliver scowled at me, and I blinked in surprise from his sudden change of attitude. Was he bi-polar or something?

"Where are the teasing comments?" he snapped.

"Huh?"

"You know, about how stupid it is that I can’t say no to children. That I actually like children. You were doing it earlier."

I stared at him in surprise. "What? No, Oliver, I wasn’t—"

"Don’t deny it."

"I wasn’t making fun of you!" I protested. "Oliver, I think it’s cute that you like children…" I trailed off, realizing what I had admitted. My face immediately burned and I looked out the window. "Um, you know… You’re like, a delinquent and all, and you don’t really expect delinquents to like children. Wait, no, that sounds bad… It’s just that you’re a man and…" My face continued to heat while I babbled.

Suddenly Oliver started chucking. My head whipped towards him, surprised once again. A smirk was playing at his lips and he sent me a quick glance.

"You think I’m cute?"

I pursed my lips at him. "No, I said it’s cute you like children."

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No, it is not," I stated stubbornly. "It’s really unexpected."

Oliver stayed quiet for a moment. "I have a little sister about Elliot’s age," he finally told me, sober now.

"You do?"

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "She’s actually a lot like Elliot. I’ve heard she plays the Wii all the time and is home-schooled."

"You’ve heard…?" I asked cautiously. This was the first time Oliver was talking about his family willingly— and without being rude or mean. I didn’t want to mess it up by asking the wrong questions.

Oliver didn’t seem to mind my question. "I never really get to see her. She lives with a foster family."

A foster family? Why would Oliver’s younger sister live with a foster family if Oliver didn’t? Curiosity burned within me, but I withheld my questions. "Oh," I finally responded, biting my tongue.

"If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come over to play the Wii with Elliot…"

I glanced at Oliver. He was staring straight ahead, his hands tight on the steering wheel, his face impassive. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was embarrassed to as this. However, I once again forced myself to keep my comments to myself.

"Of course you can!"

Oliver glanced at me. "It won’t be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"You’re still my teacher," Oliver pointed out. "Usually teachers don’t invite their students to their houses…"

I frowned slightly. Oliver had a point. But Oliver also knew my real age. It wasn’t like I had to put up a front around him. He knew my secret, which put him in a different perspective completely…

"It’s fine," I told him. "No one will know."

Oliver shrugged. "Whatever."

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to," I said, a little thrown off by his sudden casual attitude.

He shook his head. "No, I want to."

"Okay."

"Don’t you want to know?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. How could Oliver expect me to know what he was talking about every time he opened his mouth? "Know what?"

Oliver spared me a deadpan look. "Why my sister lives with a foster family and I don’t."

"Oh," I responded, sucking in a quick breath. "Well, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want know, but I also don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me. It’s your business, not mine."

A smirk tugged at Oliver’s lips. "It sure seemed your business when you were scolding me for being rude to my family."

"That’s because that was unnecessary," I pointed out.

Oliver scowled at me. "You don’t understand."

"Then help me to!"

"I thought you said you weren’t going to force me to tell you since it wasn’t your business?"

"But you— you just— you said…" I trailed off, stuttering.

Oliver chuckled in amusement. "Calm down."

"I am calm," I snapped.

"Really?"

I crossed my arms and turned to look out the window again. "Never mind. I’m not interested in your past."

What a total lie.

"Lily— that’s my sister’s name— is my half-sister," Oliver told me, his voice so quiet I had to strain to hear him. "My mom and dad got divorced a year before Lily was born. My dad wasn’t really fond of Lily because of how quickly my mom found a replacement for him."

I quickly did the math in my head. "Four months?"

Oliver shrugged. "More or less."

"And is Lily’s father your step-dad?"

Oliver snorted. "No. I don’t even know who Lily’s dad is. He was some random guy my desperate mom hooked up with because she was depressed. Then Lily appeared, and the guy was gone."

So that explained why Lily wasn’t with her father. I stayed quiet, playing with my thumbs. Oliver didn’t continue talking, so an awkward silence settled in the car. A large bump in the road lifted me an inch off my seat, and I fell back with an, "Oof!".

Oliver rolled his eyes. Either at my actions or the silence— I didn’t know. "You can ask me questions."

"I don’t want to pry," I admitted.

"I know you want to."

I pursed my lips at him. "Why are you suddenly so willing to let me know about your family?"

Oliver shrugged. "We’re working together now, so I figured you, being as nosy as you are, would keep asking me the same questions if I didn’t answer them. I figured it’d be much simpler just to tell you everything."

I gave him a dry smile. "Gee, thanks."

"Besides, I have some questions I want to ask you about your family," Oliver continued, shooting me a curious look.

Instantly I felt cold. Oliver wanted to ask me questions? Did he know something? Did my uncle tell him something he shouldn’t have? Or was Oliver just curious about my life? That didn’t sound Oliver-ish. Would I be able to answer all his questions? Did I want to? There was nothing wrong with it. It was just… It’d be weird.

I decided to take control of the situation. It was better to be the one asking than to be the one answering… at least for right now. "You don’t have to answer, but why isn’t Lily with your mom?"

"She’s dead."

Oliver suddenly slammed on the breaks, making me jerk forward in the seat. The feeling of my stomach moving, and the cold feeing that was spreading through me from Oliver’s response made me shiver. My hands suddenly felt sweaty, and I wiped them continuously against my pant leg.

Oliver’s mother was dead? I glanced at Oliver, a sudden feeling of empathy washing over me. So that was why Oliver snapped at me for not knowing how it felt to lose someone… Well, he didn’t know I actually did, but still. It made more sense.

"I’m sorry," I finally said, saying the line I got sick of hearing after my parents died. "That’s a hard thing to go through…"

Oliver shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But I didn’t live with her at the time, so I didn’t really see her."

"You lived with your dad?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, and about a year later with Melissa and my step-mom."

I hesitated a moment before speaking again. "How come your dad didn’t, um, adopt Lily?"

"He’s a bas—"

"No swearing," I quickly interjected.

Oliver sent me an amused look. "Okay… My dad didn’t want Lily because she wasn’t his child."

"But still! She’s your sister!"

Oliver glared at me. "He doesn’t care about that."

I leaned away from Oliver, a bit taken aback by his harsh glare. "But Anthony is so nice… There must be another reason."

"Doubt it," Oliver responded. "My step-mom was against it too." He chucked humorlessly. "She wanted me to move out too."

"What?" I gasped.

"You know how our school has dorms? She wanted me to stay in them," Oliver informed me. "She didn’t want to ruin her reputation."

"She seemed nice too though," I commented quietly.

"No one is ever who they seem."

I knit my eyebrows. "I see that…"

"Lily’s foster parents are really good people though," Oliver said, randomly continuing his story again. "I like them a lot. I actually think it’s better for Lily to live with them than with my dad."

"Really?" I mused, glancing at the window. My eyes widened in shock when I realized we were at the bar. "When did we get here?"

"About five minutes ago," Oliver responded, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Don’t tell me you just realized this."

I blushed, looking away from him. "Shut up. I’m still in shock that you decided to tell me about your past randomly."

"I didn’t tell you my whole past," Oliver corrected me, a smirk forming on his face again. "I left out the fun stuff."

"Fun stuff?"

Oliver smirked wider. "The reason why I have to go to a delinquent school, and all that stuff."

I blanked at him. He was still smirking, but anger was etched into his eyes, making my mind blank. All of a sudden, I was dying to know what he did. Before I could open my mouth to ask, he was opening the door to climb out of the car. When he was fully out, he popped his head back in the car.

"Let’s go. Time for work, Harley."

My eyes widened in surprise. That was the first time he had used my first name.