Waters of Disillusion

I am a really terrible liar. If I'm under pressure or it's a spur of the moment thing, I just cannot lie decently to save my life. I blurt out the most random shit that in no way makes sense.

The one person you should never, and I mean never lie to, is your mama. Of course, I found that out the hard way.

"Where've you been, Nicolette Leigh?" she switched on a light from the chair she sat on, just like out of a movie. I had just opened the door, too, and my heart started drumming so loud I swear she could hear it.

"Mama!" my voice was shrill and cracked. I cleared my throat. Shit.

"Hi baby," she smiled in the way that you know she isn't actually amused. "Where've you been?"

"I was, um," I did this sort of cough thing into the crook of my elbow. "I was uh," her eyes fixed on mine, waiting for an answer. "I was helpin' Lucy Anne shave her cat."

Her eyebrows knit together and I knew she wasn't buying it for one second. "At one o'clock in the mornin'"?

"Yep. She called me an' said Mr. Mittens was hackin' and howlin' up a storm, so I went over to help figure out what was wrong. He was burinin' to death, ya know? Their air conditionin' was broken an' he was pantin' up a storm." Cats don't pant, idiot. I mentally cringe.

"An' this needed to be done at this hour?"

"Well, yes. If it wasn't the poor thing would'a had somethin' awful happen to him. Like uh, hypolaria." That's not even a word, moron!

Ma put a hand up to her face. "You don't think I'm that stupid, do ya Nicolette Leigh?"

"No, ma'am," my voice cracked again. Damn it. I sorta-coughed again.

"Because I know my daughter, my very own flesh and blood, ain't lyin' to me. And I sure as hell hope she ain't lyin' to cover up the fact she went to see a boy." Don't look into her eyes, I tell my self. Don't look don't look don't look- "Look at me, Nicolette." Sweet baby Jesus on a biscuit- "and I know you ain't mentally usin' the Lord's name in vain."

Shit sandwich. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I hang my head in shame. She sighs. I know ma means well being over protective and all, since she's thirty five and has a seventeen year old daughter, but come on. It's the summer, I ain't dumb enough to repeat her mistakes, I'm sure as hell responsible most of the time, and we do use protection.

"I sure hope that pathetic attempt at lyin' wasn't to cover up for Tyler," she says. Don't get me wrong, ma loves Tyler, she really does. She just doesn't want us to get our priorities out of whack or end up like she did or something.I say nothing. Ma rises from the chair and puts her arms around me. "Nicolette Leigh, what am I gonna do with you?"

I bury my face into her nightshirt. She smells like citrus and cigarettes and baby powder. "Nothin', ma'am," I mumble. She lifts up my chin so I have no choice but to meet her eyes.

"You listen here, girl, and you listen good: I don't mind if you're out galavantin' with the Bellmont boy, just don't do anythin' you're gonna regret. And do not take off in the middle of the night. Y'all had me worried sick," she frowns and holds me tighter. Times like this I remember how much I love her. It makes me think of all the times I'd crawl onto her lap when I was younger and she'd hold me close and rock me. Those were pre-Dick years, mind you.

"'M sorry, mama. It won't happen again," I tell her. She kisses the top of my head. The next thing we hear is Dick's infamous snoring. Our mother-daughter heart to heart is over as quickly as it started. Ma gives me a small smile.

"An' Nic?"

"Ma'am?"

"Was Ty drinkin' earlier?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Huh. He got some puke on your feet."

"Oh shit, that's disgustin'!"

"Language, Nicolette Leigh."



My skin is going to get redder than a strawberry. The glare from the sun is going to shrink my eyeballs up and I'll be blind for the rest of my life. A million other bad thoughts go through my head because it is just so damn hot.

"Have I ever told you Amanda Mae's voice makes me want to shoot puppies or somethin'?" the very words wear me out. Talking, even petty as it is, takes my mind off the heat.

"Not Roscoe, I hope." Had it been about twenty degrees cooler, I bet Tyler would've made a protective stance in front of his dog. But Roscoe's laying on the sand, tongue out and panting like there's no tomorrow. The lake water we're floating face up in is nearly as warm as the air itself. I whine about her some more like an insecure teenage girl and Tyler assures me "any day now" he'll break up with her. He's been telling me that for months and I've yet to see any progress.

We start one of our dumb games where we go back and forth staring a word that begins with the last letter of whatever the other person said. Eventually, this is how we end up:

"Circus."

"Shishkabob."

"Blue waffles."

"You win. That's disgutin.'"

"Au contraire; I happen to paint nearly all 'a my breakfast food blue. Sometimes pink if I'm feelin' sassy." Oh God. Did I just say sassy?

"Did you jus' say sassy?"

A red shade of shame colors my cheeks. "Shut up, Tyler."

He stops floating now and doggy paddles to keep himself above water. "No, really. How often do you feel sassy, and where the heck am I when you are?"

I stop floating as well and give him the meanest look I can manage. "Jus' remember how many times I've kicked your butt, boy."

Tyler growls like his dog. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby."

"Oh yeah? Mud pies. Dirt. Manure. Worms."

He growls again and turns his face to the sun. "Dear Lord, Nic."

The water glistens so bright and I wish I brought my sunglasses, or at least a hat. The breeze makes the heat feel much more manageable, but I notice that it's quiet. Way too quiet. I look towards Tyler.

That must have been what he was waiting for, because he pounces.

"Ty-!" is all I'm able to get out before we're under water. I open my eyes to see him laughing. I flip him off before breaking the surface and gasping for breath.

"I hate you, Tyler Joseph. I hate your rotten guts."

He came up after me and grinned. "You ain't gonna die on me, are you?"

"What?"

"Take a deep breath!" and we were under again. This time he had me by the waist. My eyes stung for a moment when I opened them, but I saw him looking back at me with that stupid grin. And God damn, try as I might, I couldn't resist it. I smiled back.

He pulled us deeper under until the clear blue became a murky green. I was running out of air. I try pulling away but gosh damn that kid's strong. If he felt my struggle, he did nothing. Instead, he pressed his lips against my forehead. Tyler, I felt like screaming. I will kick your ass if you don't let me go right now.

He must have understood me-or needed air too- because after pressing his lips to mine, he kicked off against a rock and we propelled to the surface.

I coughed a few times. "God damn it Tyler, you tryin'a kill me?" Tyler really can't keep his hands to himself. Next thing I knew, he ducked under the water again and swam under me so I was sitting on his shoulders, a Chicken-esq position. When he emerged I wrapped my arms around his neck a little harder than necessary and we headed for the sand.

"Oh, Nicolette," I hear him say. There's a smile in his voice. "Are you gettin' wet?" When we were little, that rhyme was cute because well, we found something that rhymed with my name. But now that we both knew what it implied my face heated up.

"You're so-God, Tyler-" I can't finish. He throws us down on the sand and pins my arms over my head.

"She's speechless! My little lady's speechless!"

"Do you ever stop your stupid smilin'?"

Now he pouts. "Aw, Nico. Don't mad jus' 'cause you ain't got nothin' to smile 'bout."

"I did not-"

"Is it because you wanna be on top?"

"Tyler!"

"I'm jus' messin' with you, Nico," he shakes his wet hair all over my face like a dog. I try to be mad, but I start laughing.

"Stop it! Tyler! You're no better'n Roscoe!" Still, I laugh. It's that really unattractive laugh, too, when you know your nose is all crinkled and your eyes squint so much that they close. He still has my arms above my head, so I can't even cover my face.

"You're so silly, Nico," he says. He kisses my cheek. "That's why I love you, ya know? One minute you're stompin' on my manhood, the next you're snortin' like a pig."

"I do not snort!" I shrieked right into his ear. I need to work on my shrieking. Ma says it's very unlady like.

It works, though, because he sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. "You do snort. Sometimes," he grins. I sit up too and pout. "But it's funny. Cute, actually."

"We'll see how funny it is when- wait, what time's it?" I check my watch because damn, I'm going to be late. I look back at Tyler and slap him on the head.

"What's your problem?"

"Your dumb little stunt wasted my time!" I stand up and start layering on my clothes again. Tyler follows my lead, somewhat- okay, a lot- confused.

"What're you talkin' about? You gotta watch Saph an' Ruby again?"

"No, Ty." I cut through the bushes that lead to our homes. We're lucky the lake is down the street, it's so convenient.

"Are you startin' your girl troubles again?" That's it. I turn around and slap him again.

"Ow! You definitely are startin' your girl issues!"

"Shut up, wouldya? I'm goin' out with Benji an' he's pickin' me up in ten minutes an' I still have to get ready!" I flip my wet hair at him. "In case you haven't noticed, girls take a bit longer'n boys to get ready." But Tyler stopped listening. He looks at me with the weirdest expression. It's like a mix of sadness, anger, shock, and hunger. He's probably hungry. Shit, even I'm starving.

"You're goin' out with that kid who's got octopus legs for hair?"

"No, I'm gettin' dinner with a nice boy from California an' it's none of your damn business."

"Well, when he gives you California crabs, don't come cryin' to me."

"Go to hell, Tyler."