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

39

It takes a few hours, but I finally find what I'm looking for. I find a home a little less than four hours away from Seattle in Chelan, Washington and with some money I have stockpiled away from graduation, I rent it for a couple of days in August before Justin's fight.

Although it started out as a selfless gesture to the man I love who has been saying he wants to go see his brother, a little selfishness casts over me at the thought of spending many uninterrupted days with him in a row.

I can finally get a small taste of my fantasy here.

While I'm tired, I'm happy as I move down the stairs that morning and find a seat at the countertop in the kitchen beside Patrick who is munching on a strawberry Pop Tart. He still has bed head, which my mother is sure to neurotically groom when she walks by us to get to the coffee pot.

"Patrick, did you submit that paper for your summer writing class yet?" she asks with her back turned.

I look over to him with a scrunched nose, but he doesn't look up at me. Normally, we'd make a face at each other when either of my parents spoke. But maybe he's just tired.

"Did it on Sunday," he replies.

"Good," I hear her smiling.

My eyes land on a banana in the bowl of fruit that's decoratively placed on the white counter. I reach for it for my breakfast.

"Morning," my dad enters the space next.

His dark green tie hangs loosely over his white button down shirt. Thick rimmed glasses frame tired eyes that look warmly to my mother who passes him the first cup of coffee from the machine. He kisses her head and heads into his office, where he likes to sip his coffee and sit by himself before heading into work.

We haven't spoken much, if at all, since I told him I couldn't wait for him to die. Well, I didn't say that exactly, but it was something along the lines of wanting him and every other old guy in Redlake to die off. Kind of the same thing.

Coexisting is the only way I'll survive the next couple of weeks before I leave for Notre Dame.

"When do you meet your roommates, Jane?" Mom asks with her back turned.

I swallow down my food. "Next week, actually. I'm going to spend a couple of days off campus with them, if thats okay."

"How long?"

"It's Friday the eighteenth to Tuesday," I wince slightly, worried she'll ask a ton of questions along the lines of why it's so long, what we'll be doing, who will be there.

I have all of my fabrications ready to go. In reality, I'm only planning to visit the girls off campus for lunch and then catch a flight to Seattle later that night with Justin.

But instead of pestering, she only shrugs. "Okay."

It's not that I want her to question me, but her carelessness leads me to believe that her and my dad truly are fed up with me and can't wait to see me off. Then they can live peacefully in their hateful bubble for a few weeks until I return.

I look over to Patrick with a surprised expression hoping that I'll be met with one in return but still, I'm not. He only looks straight ahead, uninterested as can be.

"Jane, come in here for a second," my father calls from his office before I have the chance to ask Patrick what his deal is.

It's been a while since he's spoken to me. My stomach lurches forward, not feeling entirely in the fighting spirit this morning but I have a feeling it won't matter.

I follow his voice so his office off of the living room and see him at his desk, looking up at me above his frames.

"Close the door, please," he waves his hand. I do. "Sit down for a minute."