Free Perfect Lie by Teresa Mummert

didn’t know you were in here.” I couldn’t look him in the eye, so I stared at the way his shirt stretched across his chest muscles, which only made me blush deeper.
    “I just told you a minute ago.” His eyebrow cocked, and I couldn’t help scowl at him.
    “Maybe I was ignoring you,” I said. “It’s hard not to block out your ramblings.”
    His head tilted to the side, and his fingers came under my chin to force me to look up at his face. “Lie.”
    “What?” I said, when he didn’t continue after saying my name.
    “
That
is a lie. You couldn’t ignore me if you tried.” He winked and walked around me before I could come up with a witty comeback. What an asshole.
    I went into the bathroom and closed the door a little harder than necessary. I glanced into the mirror over the sink, and sure enough, my cheeks were tinted pink.
    I splashed cold water on my face and forced myself to leave the safety of the bathroom. I headed to the living room to grab my Kindle, ignoring everyone.
    “Lie, we’re gonna go out for drinks,” Trish called from the couch.
    “Have fun.” I began to walk out of the room as she giggled.
    “No.
We
are going out for drinks. Get dressed.”
    I stopped walking and turned back to look at her. “I
am
dressed.” I had on my favorite pair of torn‐up jeans and a tank top. That was as dressed up as I felt like getting, but I knew by Trish’s expression that she wasn’t going to drop it. Heaven forbid I go out dressed like a normal person and embarrass her.
    “Fine. Whatever. I’ll change.” I left before she could add any advice regarding what I should wear and went to my room. I stared at my closet, fighting back the urge to pull out my keepsake box. Instead I grabbed the first thing my fingers landed on, a thin gray dress that came up to my midthigh with a thick black belt around the waist. The color matched my contact lenses; I hated my plain‐Jane brown eyes. I grabbed a pair of black strappy sandals and quickly discarded my old clothes and threw on my dress. I left my hair down and ran my hands through it to detangle it.
    I stepped back out of my room only to find the three guys on the couch. Trish had gone to primp, and I knew we may have to wait an hour until she came back.
    “Can I smoke in here?” Abel asked, and I shook my head. He pushed up from his seat and walked toward me. “Show me where?”
    “Sure.” I took him to the back of the kitchen, where our fire escape was. You could crawl out the oversize window to the landing. I spent a lot of time out there when I read or just to get some fresh air and sunshine. I wobbled on my heels as I climbed through the opening, and Abel grabbed my hips from behind to steady me.
    “Sorry,” he said, as he climbed out next to me, standing entirely too close to me on the tiny platform. I could tell from his playful expression he wasn’t the least bit regretful.
    He pulled a cigarette from his pack and held it out to me. I took it even though I usually only smoked if I was partying. He held a lighter to my face, and I inhaled as he lit it, his eyes locked on mine; he looked like he was deep in thought.
    “What?” I asked, as I blew out a puff of smoke. He took the cigarette from me to take a drag instead of lighting his own.
    “You don’t really like Trish.”
    It wasn’t a question, but I felt the need to defend my friendship. Yes, we were an odd pairing, but she helped me move past the person I was by allowing me into her life, and I wasn’t a bully and wouldn’t bad‐mouth her to the boy she liked.
    “I like her. We’re friends.” I shrugged and took the cigarette back. His eyes were trained on my lips as I inhaled. I hated his confidence and the arrogant way he spoke, but something under the sarcastic remarks kept me interested in who he really was.
    “Friendship goes both ways,” Abel said.
    “Are those guys your
real
friends?”
    He shook his head, his hand dragging through his messy hair. “They were