Started With a Lie

Chapter Seventeen

Started With a Lie – Chapter Seventeen

Mark and I sit down for a cup of coffee at Dunkin Donuts even though it’s very late at night. There are only a few customers around and the worker that hands us our coffees looks like he would rather be anywhere else but there. I don’t even know why we decided to go for coffee. I definitely know I’d have a hard time sleeping tonight.

            “So,” I say, “what’re you doing in Brownwood?”

            “Um, some business matters,” Mark replies, taking a sip of his coffee. He scrunches his face up and mutters, “It needs more sugar.” He takes a packet of Sweet & Low and stirs it in his cup.

            “And you just so happened to just ‘coincidentally’”—I mimic air quotes with my hands—“run into the same store that I worked in? Out of all the stores?”

            He grins, “Yeah.”

            “Sure,” I say, positive he followed me or just came to bother me. “You could have just called me or something if you wanted to hang out.”

            “Well, I do want to hang out,” Mark laughs. “But I did come here for business so, you’ll be seeing me more often. I even actually rented out a house here just for the time I’ll be staying.” He takes a gulp of coffee.

            “Oh, serious business, huh?” I ask. He nods and laughs. It’s so easy to talk to him. The words come right out of my mouth unlike…Lee. I haven’t thought of him for a while. But there’s a constant urge to think about him.

            “What’re you thinking of?” Mark asks, peering at me.

            “Um, have you been in contact with Lee? How’s he doing?” I say, playing with the rim of my Styrofoam cup. I don’t want to come off as too eager to know about how he’s doing.

            Mark’s smile fades and he turns his eyes out the window. “I don’t really talk to him much. But, I’m sure he’s doing fine. He always is.”

            “D-Did you know he had a fiancé?”

            “What?” Mark snaps his head back to me. He regains his composure. “Oh. Did he now?” He takes a sip of his coffee nervously. “Didn’t think he’d recover that fast,” he mumbles to himself, his cup at his lips that block out what he’s saying and leave me to put the pieces together.

            Did I hear that right? Recover from what? Maybe I was imagining things. “Um, what?” I ask Mark. I can’t ever imagine Lee needing to recover from anything. He seems like the type of guy who has the strength of Iron Man—emotionally and physically.

            “Hm?” Mark looks at me, back from whatever he was thinking of. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s none of my business anyway. I shouldn’t leak his secrets without consent.”

            I frown. Lee will always be a mystery. “Oh.”

            Mark looks at me, his eyebrows furrowed—he’s trying to figure me out. But he can’t because I put up a pretty good poker face most of the time unless it’s Lee. Everything’s different with Lee. I sigh.

            “Changing the subject,” Mark says, “how’s it going?”

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