Bad Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy #1) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,2
blonde tresses underneath, and drags her tight little ass toward the door. “Call me tomorrow?” she asks, her hand on the knob.
A puff of scorn escapes my nose. I won’t be calling this girl tomorrow, or ever again. Not now that I know she wants more than I’m willing to give her. But seeing as how I’ve got bigger fish to fry than setting a pretty girl straight about her foolish, unrequited crush on me, I reply, “Not knowing what tomorrow will bring is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
She scoffs, and a part of me hopes she’ll finally grow a pair and tell me to fuck off. But, no. Passive little Audrey Meisner rolls her eyes, blows me a kiss, and slips quietly out the door, never to return to my room again, unbeknownst to her.
When the girl is gone, I shove earbuds into my ears and blast my current obsession—an indie band I stumbled across on YouTube. I swear, if these guys would only market themselves properly, they’d be the biggest thing going. Music blaring, I grab a whiskey bottle and a joint and flop back into my chair, determined to get shitfaced and stupid until I pass out cold.
But after only a couple swigs of whiskey, before I’ve even lit up the joint, I suddenly remember something a fraternity brother said a couple months ago during a poker game at the house—a comment that suddenly makes me want to add him to the guest list for my solo pity party.
Josh Faraday.
He’s the richest guy in my fraternity house. Maybe even at UCLA, thanks to a massive inheritance he got last year, split down the middle with his fraternal twin. But money isn’t why I’m suddenly thinking about calling Josh. It’s the shocking thing he said.
I was sitting next to Josh at the rowdy poker table when another fraternity brother, a hard-partier named Alonso, stumbled through the front door, looking like a drunken hobo in a back alley. So, of course, everyone started slinging insults at Alonso. Telling him he looked like roadkill, etcetera. It was all the usual stuff—except for what Josh said. “Damn, Alonso,” Josh threw out. “You look as fucked-up as my father did the last time I saw him... and he’d just blown his brains out.”
I was shocked by Josh’s comment. Before then, I’d known Josh’s dad had passed away right before Josh had started UCLA, but I’d assumed, like everyone else, that Josh’s dad had died of natural causes. And also that Josh, understandably heartbroken about his loss, didn’t want to talk about it. Not that I would have asked Josh about his father’s death, regardless. I never ask anyone questions about their parents, lest they get the bright idea to ask me about mine. But, now, sitting here in my fraternity room with nobody but my buddies Jack and Mary Juana, I’m suddenly hell-bent on asking Josh a thousand questions about the shocking thing he said while sitting next to me at the poker table that night.
My heart clanging, I rip my earbuds out and grab my mobile.
“Are you at the house?” I ask Josh, interrupting his greeting.
“No, I’m in my car, about fifteen minutes away. What’s up?”
I swallow hard. “Don’t mention this to anyone, but my dad’s been in prison the past six years, and, today, I found out he hanged himself. I’m hoping you’ve got some words of wisdom about how to handle the situation.”
With a heavy sigh, Josh says he’s sorry to hear the bad news, and that he’s turning his car around. “About that confidentiality thing, though...?” he says. “You’re on speaker right now in my car, and Henn’s sitting here. Sorry. I didn’t think to mention it before you started talking. But don’t worry. Henn’s a steel trap.”
Henn’s voice says, “Absolutely.”
“Henn’s the best guy in the world to have around in any kind of shit storm, Reed. Would it be okay for me to bring him along to hang out? I think, once you get to know him, you’ll be glad I did.”
I pause. I’ve interacted now and again with Peter “Henn” Hennessy—a funny, nerdy hacker dude from our pledge class—but always in loud, boisterous groups. I’m not sure tonight is the night I want to get to know him better.
As if reading my mind, Josh says, “Other than my brother, Henn’s the only person I’ve talked to about my dad. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without Henny this past year. He’s been the