Page 128 of The Design of Goodbye
“I didn’t sleep last night,” he said. “I’m not in the mood to talk. I have finals in—”
“Youliedto me.” I threw a crumpled ball of paper at him. It hit him in the chest before landing in his lap.
Staring right at me, he said, “I’ve never lied to you.”
I pointed to the balled-up paper. “Then, explainthat.”
He uncrumpled it, face paling as his eyes darted across the paper. When he was done, he dropped the paper onto his lap, as if it burned his hands. “Where did you find that?” His voice shook.
“I looked it up online.”
He stiffened. “How could you do that to me?”
He sounded hurt, and it made me so angry because he didn’t have the right to be. Not after what he’d done. Not after he’d lied about something so important.
I whispered, “I did it for us.”
“Us?” He laughed dryly. “What does that mean?”
The words tumbled out, more furious than I’d expected. “I thought, if I found out what happened to you, you’d never have to tell me, but I’dknow,and there’d be no more secrets between us. But instead,” I continued, “I found out you lied to me.”
He stared at the paper, eyes focusing on it, like he was afraid it was going to ignite. “I never lied.”
“Then, what happened to your mom?” I demanded. “Where is she? Because the article said she was—”
He picked up the paper. “This article”—he ripped it up, and pieces fluttered to the floor—“is full of lies.”
My breath hitched. “What?” I stared at those pieces, dazed. “Tell me what happened.”
His chest heaved. “No.”
“Then, what am I supposed to believe?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “And right now, I don’t really care.”
My anger, at least momentarily, had been replaced with the heavy weight of defeat. I didn’t know what to say or do. All I wanted was for him to open up and behonestso his secrets would no longer be a wall between us.
“I can’t forget what I read.” I paused. “I can’t move on from what I think I know. Talk to me. You owe it to me to—”
He jumped off the couch and ran.
“Liam!”
I chased him, but he gained distance too quickly. Even when he weaved too sharply between a table and crashed into a library cart, I still couldn’t catch up.
“Mr. Strom!” yelled our librarian. “Slow down!”
He banged through the library doors, flew down the stairs, and slammed through the school’s front entrance. By the time I made it outside, he was already biking away.
* * *
I didn’t see Liam at school the rest of the day, so I drove to The Fresh Market after work.
He was working at one of the cash registers. As soon as he saw me, he stopped ringing up his customer’s purchases, left her standing in the aisle mid-transaction, and walked away.
I’d expected to chase after him, but I easily caught up to him. I pulled at the bottom of his shirt to stop him.
“I tried to find you at school,” I said, grabbing onto his arm to make sure he didn’t walk away. “You never came back, did you?”
