The Virginity Pact

20 - this little lie of mine

Poor Holden Frasier. You made your bet, now you have to lie on it.

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Holden holds a light grip on my upper thigh with his right hand. He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the fabric of my jeans in slow circles.

Uncomfortable doesn't begin to describe how I feel. I want to grab his thumb and break it off.

I try not to be tense under his touch, but I really don't want to be anywhere near him.

My phone rings and I slide it out of my pocket.

Tyler.

I clutch my phone to my chest so Holden can't see the name on the screen.

"It's my dad, I have to take this," I lie, and he nods silently, averting his attention back to last week's episode of Scream.

"Hello?" I answer when I'm in the study, the door shut behind me.

"How's it going? I know you're at Holden's right now," Tyler says.

Holden had snapped a picture several minutes ago of me--eyes squinted slightly, eyebrows furrowed, head tilted just a few degrees to the left--fully engrossed in catching up with Emma and her friends' unfortunate encounters, and posted it on instagram. He doesn't post frequently but when he does its almost always a picture of something other than himself.

"What do you mean how's it going?" I ask angrily. "How do you think it's going? Because it's going exactly how you think it's going."

"It's not that difficult," Tyler replies. "Just get the information on the next fundraiser."

My jaw clenches as I pace slowly around the study, then stop and lean against the large desk.

"Jesus, what am I, a fucking Russian spy? It is difficult. I just found out my boyfriend is a liar and you want me to sit around him lying too, acting like everything's fine!" I spit. "And about the fundraiser, he just told me 2 days ago he doesn't know."

"Well ask again," Tyler says and I can hear the annoyance in his voice.

I close my eyes and rub my left temple.

"I can't stand you," I let him know.

"Sometimes you have to work with people you can't stand," he says, unaffected by my proclamation of hatred. "Anyways, I'm helping you out. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you!" I repeat, exasperated and a little loud. I shake my head and remind myself to stay quiet. "You played me," I remind him.

"Not like Holden did," he states firmly. "Who walked you down the steps at cotillion when he wouldn't? Who--"

"You were faking," I stop him.

"So was he," he counters. "The difference is, I never promised you anything."

I exhale and tap my foot against the hardwood floor.

"How many times has he yelled at you? Called you names? Made you cry?" He asks.

"I get it," I say firmly, rolling my eyes.

"I'm just saying," Tyler continues. "We're on the same side. Find out about the fundraiser, then text me."

"Fine."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair and sliding my phone back into my pocket.

I open the door and make my way back out to the living room. Holden turns to look at me as I approach the couch.