The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,526

have other recurring dreams.”

“About … ?”

You, I almost say, then stop myself.

But Thayer gazes at me as though he’s reading my mind. All of a sudden, he twines his feet around the legs of my chair and shifts me toward him. I can’t help but gasp, but I say nothing, and I certainly don’t move away. We’re so close now I’m enveloped in his clean, grassy scent. I stare at him, and he stares back. There’s a rushing sound in my ears, perhaps the noise of blood pumping quickly through my veins.

I struggle not to freak out completely. “So, are you going to Nisha’s party tomorrow night?” I ask casually.

Thayer looks startled for a moment, as though he didn’t expect the question. “I don’t know. Probably. Why—do you want me to go?”

I open my mouth, then shut it again. Of course I do. But the idea of saying it fills me with jitters. It makes me feel needy, uncool, way off center. “Well, I don’t care either way,” I say lightly, though my voice cracks at the end. “But, um, I think my sister does. I think she might have a crush on you.” I arch an eyebrow, waiting for his reaction, anything to suggest that he might return her feelings.

Thayer doesn’t flinch. A slow grin breaks out across his beautiful face. He tilts his head so close to mine we’re practically breathing the same air. “Do you really want to talk about Laurel right now?” he whispers.

My mouth drops open in shock. “Um,” I say, but then my mind goes blank. Is he going to kiss me? His confidence is intoxicating. I look away, my heart thudding like a hammer against my ribs.

Thayer reaches up and sweeps my hair back off of my shoulders. “Um,” he teases, angling my face toward his.

So it is going to happen. I lower my eyes and inch toward him. Thayer’s rough hand grazes my forehead lightly. I hold my breath, excited and expectant, as our faces move closer, and …

“Thayer?”

For the second time since waking up, I jump. Thayer shoots away from me and stands up. Laurel looms in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. There’s an inscrutable expression on her face, and I wonder how long she’s been standing there.

“I was wondering what was taking so long,” Laurel says after a moment.

Thayer’s cheeks redden. He hitches up his jeans and points to the first-aid kit on the table. “Sutton broke a glass. I was helping her clean up.”

His gaze is only on Laurel, not me. I shift away, staring at my bandaged hand. All of a sudden, the prospect of kissing Thayer seems unthinkable, impossible. Maybe he’d never intended to do it at all—maybe he was just screwing with me. And he moved away from me like a slingshot, as though he was horrified at the idea that Laurel would catch us together. Does he find me that unkissable? Whatever, I think. I rise from my chair and snatch the first-aid kit from the table. “Thanks for your help, Thayer,” I say coolly. Then I turn to Laurel. “Have fun in your little clubhouse,” I snap.

I flounce past them and down the hall, shoulders thrown back. I want to turn around and see if Thayer is staring, but I don’t dare. On my way up the stairs, I tell myself sternly: It was nothing.

You don’t have feelings for Thayer. You don’t have feelings for Thayer.

But no matter how many times I repeat it, it feels like, for the very first time, I’m lying to myself.

9

A TOTAL WASTE OF A PEDICURE

On Thursday evening, as the settling dusk paints the sky a brilliant, streaky watercolor of pink, orange, and yellow, Charlotte, Madeline, and I jam into my vintage Volvo, Floyd, and head to Nisha’s party. I grip the steering wheel tightly and accelerate through the turns. The air smells of cut grass and charcoal grills, and Sabino Canyon and the Catalina Mountains rise large and beautiful in front of me. Finally, I turn onto Nisha’s street, the wind tickling my cheek almost playfully. I grin and crank up the volume on the radio as a Jay-Z remix comes on. Madeline lets out a whoop. Charlotte sticks her head out the window like a dog, then pulls it back in when she realizes it’s messing up her hair.

“Tonight’s going to be key for Operation Loverboy—I can just feel it!” Charlotte squeals next to me, breaking into a little impromptu shimmy in her seat.