The Lies About Truth by Courtney C. Stevens Read Free Book Online Page B

think I’m gonna go see if Callahan will let me ride the motorcycle later,” he said.
    That felt like code-talk to me. “You want me to go with you?” I asked.
    “Maybe. I could use some Sadie May perspective.”
    “As you wish.”
    I know I said that because Trent loved
The Princess Bride
, and he always gave me a goofy grin when I quoted the movie. Then, I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was our car swerving to the right.
    My eyes snapped open. Gina and Gray were stalled out in front of us. My heart rocketed from sixty to a thousand beats, and I grabbed the door handle.
    “Hold on,” Trent told us.
    I screamed.
    I never saw the tree.
    The Yaris screamed. Metal on bark.
    Time either stopped or slowed down, because I remember far too many details from that moment than are possible.
    Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.
I hear those words in my sleep.
    Fletcher asked me to describe that moment. I told him I was a peach in a blender.
    Only the pictures afterward and Gina’s explanation—the compacted hood, the U-shaped roof—let me understand what happened after the impact ejected me. Gina had stalled the Jeep at the bottom of Willit Hill. Trent swerved to avoid them, and we barreled into a stand of trees.
    You were trapped in the backseat. I went flying. Trent . . .
    I can’t write any more. Sorry.
    Sadie
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Date: August 20
    Subject: restitution
    Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. All this time, I didn’t know you were conscious. That you held his hand. You’re . . . braver than anyone I know.
    Don’t beat yourself up. There’s nothing you could have done. It’s okay to feel. Jesus, I sound like Dr. Fletcher Glasson.Ignore that shit and do whatever you want.
    I just want everything back the way it was. For you. For me. For our families. I want Trent to knock on my window . . . want to get in the car tomorrow and drive to the Fountain of Youth.
    Okay, I’m out of juice. I’m going to turn out the light and pretend to sleep.
    Sadie
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Date: August 25
    Subject: Trent
    Max,
    I want to go back to your last statement:
I don’t think my brother trusted me the way he trusted you. He only told me what he had to.
    Max, Trent absolutely trusted you. As for confiding in you about breaking up with Gina, you can’t go by that. There are a million reasons why he hadn’t told you he was considering it. Maybe he was embarrassed or something? He always had this idyllic vision of how you saw him, and he wanted to protect that. But more than likely, he wasn’t ready to act and didn’t want to upset the group chemistry until he understood how he felt.
    Sadie
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Date: August 28
    Subject: Seafood festival
    Max,
    Thanks for understanding.
    No, Gray and I aren’t going to the seafood festival. No need for you to be jealous about missing out on the food. I’m still not going out in public, and Gray . . . well, who knows about him right now.
    We wrecked more than the car.
    Sadie

CHAPTER TEN
    The Social Experiments, as I decided to call them, continued that afternoon. I’d expected a quiet evening with Max—maybe a walk on the beach, some Star Time on the dock, a game of Tell Me Something—instead, I got a joint McCall-Kingston meal. At least Mom and Dad eased me into their high expectations.
    Lights shone through every window of the McCall house. Such a strange sight to see after a year of darkness. Sonia had invited us to dinner, her need for community stronger than her weariness from traveling and the need to accomplish a long to-do list. We carried over a key lime pie and a loaf of fresh bread. I carried over some panic, and I wasn’t even sure why. I loved these people, and they loved me.
    Mom knocked.
    “You have a key,” I said.
    “They live here again,” Mom said.
    They did. We’d met them at the airport, I’d said hello, and somehow it felt like I