Lost In Lies by Xavier Neal Page A

and hope she’ll show me heaven.”
                  Belle awes as Justin rounds the corner in time to hear the quote, which informs me that he didn’t really have to use the restroom. He rolls his eyes, and stealthily strolls around in the living room.
                  The conversation fades as my attention focuses on Justin, who has a very devious look on his face, like he is indeed up to no good. Occasionally, I turn my face to appear as if I’m part of the conversation, but I watch as he taps various spots on the couches and love seats, lifts up corners of the rug, and feels the insides of the lamps on the side tables. Confused, I continue to watch, giggling when Belle does, like a cue to pay attention for that moment, before returning to babysit Justin from afar. Nick places his hand on top of mine, which instills a bit of anxiety inside of Justin, who glares before opening a drawer at the side table. Pulling out a black leather Bible, he taps it gently several times before opening it past the first few pages and to a hollowed-out opening. Proudly, Justin pulls out an envelope marked “For Emergencies Only—This Means You, Dubs.” He quietly slides out a wad of cash, flashes it at me, along with his smile, folds it, and slides it into his pocket. Quietly, he places the Bible back as if had never been removed. My eyes widen as I shake my head back and forth, which attracts Nick’s attention.
                  He glances over his shoulder to see Justin heading our way. “Nice restroom. A city theme in a beach home? Clever.”
                  “Thanks,” Nick nods and turns back around.
                  Justin makes a head motion that they’re ready to leave, so Belle speaks up, “Hate to say this, but I have to steal her away.”
                  “Oh,” Nick strokes the back of my hand. Staring into my eyes for a moment, he asks, “Do you mind if I have a minute alone first?”
                  “One minute,” Justin speaks up, following Belle and Aiden down a small hall out the front door.
                  He tilts his head, putting Justin’s attitude out of his mind, “So Peyton, thank you again for saving me from Barbie—”
                  “Her name’s really Barbie?”
                  “Yeah.”
                  “You’re lying.”
                  “No, I’m serious. Barbie Mertelle.”
                  “Barbie Mattel?”
                  “Mer-telle.” His overpronunciation causes me to laugh. Chuckling with me, he says, “And thanks for making what was going to be another boring party into anything but.”
                  “You’re welcome.”
                  “So, can I get your number?”
                  While prior to my newly adopted lifestyle, I would’ve flipped and tripped all over myself that someone like him, someone so popular and so sweet, was interested in me, I know that these are different times—not to mention I don’t actually have a phone. I bite my bottom lip, “No.”
                  Taken back for a second, he trips over the word, “Re-re-really?”
                  “Am I the first girl whose ever told you no?”
                  “Honestly, yeah.”
                  I toss my head back in a bit of a laughter, “How about this? You can give me yours.”
                  Nick uncomfortably adjusts his black tank top, debates with himself for a moment, and eventually sighs, “All right, I’ll put my number in your cell phone.”
                  “I don’t have it on me.”
                  “Really?”
                  “Sorry, but this thing didn’t come with pockets,” I point to my top. “The ones on the shorts are for looks.”