Lies I Told by Michelle Zink Read Free Book Online Page B

waffle out of the toaster and poured syrup over it. “Sorry. I guess I’m having a little trouble.”
    â€œBecause of your new friend?” he asked. “Selena, is it?”
    I shrugged. “Maybe.”
    â€œWell, you don’t have to spend time with her if you don’t want to.” He was stepping around the issue, not wanting to violate the rule about talking outside the War Room.
    â€œI know. But that’s the thing: I do.” I cut my waffle, trying to think of a safe way to put my feelings into words. “I think I need it, you know?”
    He set his cup in the sink and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. “We all need things, Gracie. Just be careful.”
    The words echoed through my bones like sonar. Careful of what? Careful not to be myself? Not to get close to anybody?
    But of course that was exactly what he meant. Both of those things and more. There were endless things to be careful about.
    â€œOh, I forgot to tell you,” he said, turning back as he opened the door to the garage. “Warren invited us over tomorrow. The Fairchilds are having some kind of barbecue. Everyone will be there.”
    I forced a smile. “Great.”
    I carried my plate to the table and thought about the bonfire. There was no doubt that Logan was interested in me, but our time together was limited by the fact that I wasn’t part of the group. At lunch, Logan sat with the guys and Rachel, Harper, and Olivia. I still sat with Selena, Ashley, and Nina, and while I actually preferred it that way, moving to Logan’s table was a necessary move on the chessboard of the Playa Hermosa con.
    The bonfire was my way in. It was the first time I’d be around Rachel’s group for any length of time. I needed to make the most of it. Needed to win over Harper and Olivia and cement Logan’s attraction to me. If I had the three of them, I was in. Logan’s friends wouldn’t care one way or another—guys never did—and Rachel would be so outvoted she’d need a reason to keep me on the outside.
    Even a queen needed some kind of consensus if she wanted to avoid an uprising.
    I was pulled from my thoughts when my mom entered the kitchen wearing slim black pants and a jade-green blouse that accentuated her eyes. Her hair was pulled back, a moreconservative style than the one she usually wore, and her legs looked extra long in four-inch heels.
    â€œHey,” I said, putting a bite of waffle into my mouth.
    â€œHi, honey.” She walked to the window and looked outside. “The flowers around the pool are pretty. The landscapers are doing a good job. Fast, too.”
    â€œYou look nice.” I couldn’t have cared less about the backyard. “Where are you going?”
    She turned around. “Leslie Fairchild sits on the board of the Playa Hermosa Community Theater. They’re having a committee meeting today. I’m going to volunteer, see if I can get to know her. Turns out she’s a bit of a homebody.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI got some of the women at the salon talking. Seems taking care of Warren, staying on top of his meds and appointments and all the other things that go along with being married to someone with his condition, is a full-time job.”
    â€œBut he goes golfing and stuff . . .” I wanted to believe that Warren Fairchild’s condition wasn’t that bad. That we wouldn’t be stealing from someone so mentally ill that it took all of his family’s resources to take care of him.
    My mom laughed. “He’s not paralyzed, Gracie. They just have to control his environment. From what I understand, he can handle familiar places and situations as long as he’s on his meds. They just have to keep an eye on him, that’s all.” She didn’t sound at all concerned as she grabbed her handbag off the counter. “Anyway, I have to go. Have fun at the bonfire