Free The Lies That Bind by Kate Carlisle

back against the wall. It was my ridiculous attempt to hide in plain sight, but it didn’t matter because Cynthia Hardesty never looked my way. Layla followed a moment later, twirling a loose strand of hair around her fingers as she strolled leisurely back to the party.
    As I walked into my classroom, I considered the scene I’d just overheard. I couldn’t let Cynthia know I’d witnessed the argument, but I had the strongest urge to console her. I could feel her pain, having just experienced a meltdown over the possibility of Layla and Derek together.
    I took a moment and mentally shoved Derek Stone into a box so I could conduct the class without going bonkers.
    Within the first half hour, the party sounds from Layla’s happy hour bash dwindled. Eventually all was quiet and my students were able to concentrate on practicing the kettle stitch they’d learned the night before.
    This was only the second evening of class but the group was already beginning to meld nicely. As everyone worked, the personalities of some of the students rose to the fore. I’d like to think we were all getting used to each other’s quirks and foibles, but some were more easy to acclimate to than others.
    Cynthia and Tom, for instance, tended to bicker quietly over almost anything. The subject matter could be as trivial as the choice of covers for the books they were making. But I’d heard that argument with Layla and there was nothing trivial about it. Tom would have been wise to pay closer attention to his wife.
    Gina and Whitney liked to talk, too, but at least they were entertaining. Both were pop-culture fanatics and proud of it. They told me what they’d seen on TMZ the previous night; then Gina showed everyone the GoFug-Yourself. com app on her phone. Kylie and Marianne both begged to see the latest red-carpet disasters.
    Mitchell was a jovial man, cheerful and interested in the others’ lives. Dale, Bobby, and Jennifer, on the other hand, worked quietly and kept to themselves.
    When Alice wasn’t texting her boyfriend, Stuart, or rushing off to the bathroom, she would absently rub her stomach while she worked. Fortunately, she was blessed with a self-deprecating sense of humor, so most of the students found her charming, despite her health issues.
    When she walked back in from her latest bathroom run, I approached her and asked if she was okay.
    She sighed and whispered, “Sometimes I think I was born without intestines. Food and liquid seem to travel directly from my stomach right down to my . . . well, you probably don’t need the specifics.”
    “Ya think?” Gina whispered loudly, and everyone nearby laughed, including Alice.
    “Maybe it’s your diet,” Whitney suggested gently. “My cousin is gluten-intolerant and he had to change his whole way of eating. But now he’s fine.”
    “Oh, I’m getting tested for celiac disease tomorrow,” Alice said. “Stuart read about it and insisted I see my doctor.”
    “Good idea,” Gina said.
    Alice sighed. “Sorry to disrupt the class.”
    I glanced around the room. Most everyone seemed to be concentrating on gluing their books properly. “I don’t think you’re disrupting anyone.”
    “Yeah, Alice, don’t worry about it,” Whitney said, waving away her concern. “We just want you to be healthy.”
    Alice blinked, clearly surprised. “You guys are so nice.”
    Just then, I caught Tom Hardesty casting a disgruntled frown at Alice. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him make that face, but I only now realized it was directed at Alice. Since he was a board member, there was no way I could tell him to knock it off. But I didn’t like students being disrespectful of each other. I wondered if maybe Tom disliked Alice because she was such good friends with Layla.
    It occurred to me that Cynthia Hardesty left the room almost as frequently as Alice did, in order to make and return phone calls. “Bidness,” she’d whisper loudly, and walk out.
    Tom never glared