Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

12

My ass makes it in a chair at the Byron household in their backyard by five minutes to five, just as promised. Only instead of feeling so entirely bitter about the situation, I'm feeling butterflies from the little bit of time I spent alone with Justin.

Speaking of Justin, I follow his directions and text him the second I've sat down.

Me (4:56 PM): No need to worry any longer. I've made it safely to the world's most boring dinner.

Justin (4:57 PM): Good, as long as you're safe.

Justin (4:57 PM): Would helping me with a normal person problem make you feel better?

Me (4:58 PM): Nothing would make me happier.

Justin (5:01 PM): Chicken or fish for dinner?

Me (5:02 PM): I think they're serving chicken tonight at my dinner. So to be difficult, I'll say fish.

Justin (5:02 PM): I like the way you think. Fish it is.

I'm ready to continue our conversation but I have to refrain because my mom is swatting my hand from beside me at the table.

"Put that away. We're at the table, Janey," she says through clenched teeth.

God forbid anyone sees her reprimand her near perfect children. How embarrassing that must be!

I comply to keep the peace between us, flipping my phone over in my lap to avoid the temptation of texting Justin again while in the presence of such dignified royalty.

"Jane," my mom hisses from beside me, grabbing my hand in her cold one. "You couldn't paint your nails for the occasion? You look like white trash."

"Sorry, I forgot. Do you want me to go home and paint them?" I bat my lashes with the blankest of stares. It takes a mountain of energy not to roll my eyes.

She offers me a scowl in response to my sarcasm laced ask. I can tell she wants to dig at me again, maybe about something else other than my black chipped nail polish, but she's stopped by Patrick before she can.

"Mom, can you pass me the water please?" he asks sweetly from beside me.

She shuts up and gets him what he needs. I know he does it to take the heat off of me, and it works.

"Where's dad?" he asks in an attempt to change the subject.

"He's with Harvey and Cole. Something about a case over in Linford," her lips twist into a sour face when she mentions the town's name.

It's a normal thing for people to do from here. Saying Linford with a straight face is just not a thing, there always has to be a grimace at the end. I think it's their way of conditioning us younger people to apply a negative connotation to the town. It's worked for most of us.

Immediately, I wonder if they're talking about the murder that Justin mentioned earlier. As much as I want to say something, I don't. Otherwise, they'll start asking questions.

"They'll be here in just a minute," Rachel, Cole's mother and Harvey's wife, smiles sweetly from the other side of the table.

She reminds me a lot of my mother. Instead of strawberry blonde hair, here's is like mine. A dark, heavy brown that nearly looks black until you see it in sunlight. She's very pretty and poised at all times, perfectly red manicured nails reaching for a bottle of chilled Chardonnay to begin pouring into my mother's glass before she sits down.

"Jane, would you like some?" she looks to me, then my mother, then back to me.

It's so silly that she even has to ask my mom for permission. I'll be twenty in a couple of weeks, and it's not like my mom doesn't know that I go out for drinks with friends whenever I get the chance.