A Love Song for Liars (Rivals #1) - Piper Lawson Page 0,38

collect our books. “Fine. Bathroom?”

I point her in the right direction. “Meet you there.”

Maybe she’s right and we do all have something to lose.

Because after last night, there won’t be more private rehearsals with Tyler.

There can’t be.

I wish it didn’t hurt so damned much.

“First day of freedom. How do you feel?” Pen asks as we head to English on Monday.

“Like a new woman.”

As we filter into the classroom, my gaze lands on the boy in the second row. The messy hair, the broad shoulders under his jacket. When he turns to listen to something Brandon says, I soak in the strong lines of his profile.

Tyler and I haven’t spoken since I slammed the bathroom door in his face at the restaurant.

Last night after studying with Pen and Jenna, I practiced in my room, the window shut.

The text came through after dinner.

Tyler: We need to talk.

Instead of responding, I’d kept my curtains closed until I turned out my own lights.

There’s no way to make this better because what I want is for him to take it back. Not what he said, but the resignation after.

Hell, I’d even take the irrational, angry Tyler over the coolly distant one.

Because that, at least, would be validation that he felt something. That he still feels it.

“Carly, are you passing notes?” I half hear the teacher’s question, but Carly’s response has me snapping to attention.

“Annie sent it to me.”

The teacher intercepts the message. Denial slams into me as I recognize the paper from my notebook, the paper I’d written on yesterday morning.

That’s impossible.

“Annie, why don’t you come up and read this for the class.”

My legs are blocks of ice as I shove myself out of my seat. I can’t meet Pen’s gaze or Carly’s or anyone’s on my way to the front of the room.

I take the paper, unfold it, and draw a breath.

No one gets in deep

Except you

You take the shovel from my hands, scrape back the dirt

I watch you dig

Your hands, your arms, your heart

My soul splinters with every inch you gain

Until you’re at the bottom

The words I wrote privately spill out, fill the silent room.

My tongue has swelled to twice its normal size as I sneak a look over the top of the page. Everyone’s staring, but there’s only one gaze that drags mine like a magnet.

Tyler’s sitting back in his seat, his posture casual, but his face is anything but. A muscle tics in his jaw, those dark eyes sparking with emotion. He’s still as a statue, but beneath the surface, he’s roiling.

Still, you don’t stop

You find the edges of my deep, the cracks

You peel it back, toss each piece over your shoulder

As if each one isn’t a layer of my heart

Hold my breath while you look inside

Hold my breath while you meet my eyes

I might wear my heart on my sleeve, but this is something new.

Perfect transparency.

I’m stretched thin, a spider web ready to tear in the lightest breeze.

But it’s not for Tyler—it’s for me.

Each word is clearer, more deliberate than the one before.

Each emotion is more raw, but my hands have stopped shaking.

It’s too much, too deep

I see that now

You rise and I take your place

I throw the pieces back inside, make a new floor and keep going

Without looking up, I know you’re gone

And I’m alone

Wondering if it was my fault to dig that deep

I’m throbbing when I finish.

Still, a part of me remains intact, as if I’ve peeled away the layers of my heart, leaving only the most vital parts, and seen for the first time the wonder it truly is.

I fold the piece of paper, the piece of my soul, and walk back to my seat.

For the rest of class, I ignore everything and stare straight ahead. I don’t talk to anyone until Pen and I go off campus for lunch.

“Jenna stole your notebook,” she says once we’re sitting outside the café.

“No,” I say firmly. “It was in my drawer this morning. I would’ve noticed it was missing. She ripped out the page.”

“She wanted to humiliate you.” Her lips curve. “It didn’t work. You were great.”

“It wasn’t a performance, Pen. It was like putting my intestines on display for everyone I hate.”

“You wanted a stage, you got one.”

My phone buzzes with another text from Tyler, but I ignore it.

He won’t approach me at school. He’s their prince, and this is a reminder of the bullshit lines he sees between us. A way for him to stay removed, unemotional, in control.

I turn Pen’s words over through the rest of