How To Lie

Chapter One: Evelyn's Perspective

Deeply scarred wrists with plenty of bracelets covering them, a hat to cover the hair I’d cut off, and an oversized Beatles t-shirt to hide behind. I, Evelyn Mackenzie Madeline Jamison, was ready to go to private school.

School was never easy for me.

Public school hated me. The kids, the teachers, the principal, so that was out of the question. Home hated me, so homeschooling was out of the question.

In my mother’s eyes, an Orlando, Florida private school by the name of DeBianca Academy was a win-win situation. And by win-win, I mean a win for her and a win for public schools.

My Chemical Romance was blasting from my headphones on the four-hour drive to DeBianca Academy, where I would be barely surviving for the next four years.

And believe me; I couldn’t blame my mother for sending me away. However, I was just as upset about living with myself as she was about living with me.

“If there's a place that I could be

Then I'd be another memory

Can I be the only hope for you?

Because you're the only hope for me

And if we can't find where we belong

We'll have to make it on our own

Face all the pain and take it on

Because the only hope for me is you”

I kept one headphone in my ear as my mother spoke to the principal, checked me in, and left with only a short, awkward hug. So I was standing on the sidewalk with nothing but a guitar case, my CD cases and a duffel bag.

I walked towards my dormitory building (Bracey Hall), not passing anything interesting; two girls playing a One Direction song on guitar, three boys on skateboards, and a boy and girl reading together…nothing out of the ordinary from my old city.

I pushed the door open (as well as I could with full hands) and climbed two flights of stairs before I found my room; 306. I pushed the door open with my hip, as the room was left unlocked.

I saw that two of the three beds had been already claimed, so my rightful place was clearly the top bunk. I tossed my duffel onto the mattress, put my guitar on the floor, and climbed the short ladder, sitting Indian-style on the bed.

Quite obviously, there was work to be done. The walls were a plain blue with a few “inspiring” words written on it (‘dream’, ‘imagine’, ‘create’…this isn’t Disney world!), and no trace of a poster ever having existed.

A multitude of My Chemical Romance photos went up first, closely followed by Panic! at the Disco, then the Beatles, then Lydia, then Paramore, and then Queen. I smiled as I realized it was actually beginning to look even a bit appealing. It was most likely all of the attractive lead singers.

A map that had been forced upon me informed me that there was a coffee shop on campus, so that was my first stop. It was Saturday, so I had nothing to do until Monday.

I walked down unnaturally clean sidewalks until I reached a small café that called itself ‘DeBianca Coffee’. Original, I thought. I chuckled because I’m so damn clever and walked inside.

I got strange looks, being the new kid and all, but I ignored them. Everyone watched closely as the barely-human-looking new kid walked to the counter to order some coffee. “Iced vanilla mocha please.” I ordered quietly. A blonde-haired college student nodded.

“You’re new. I can tell by the looks you’re getting.” she winked. I read her name tag. ‘Bindie’.

“Believe me. This,” I gestured around. “has been the high point of my afternoon.” she laughed again and handed me my coffee.

“Yep, definitely new.” I paid her and gave her a half-smile before walking to a table in the very corner next to a window. The table was designed for two people, obviously, but I left the other seat empty.

Usually, I’d imagine Brendon Urie was there, and I’d have mental conversations with him. “Well, would you look at the new girl?” a tall boy in a black hoodie towered over me and laughed almost maniacally.

“Maybe we should show her how things work around here.” one of his friends said. “First rule, no fucking stupid hats.” he pulled the beanie off of my head, revealing unevenly cut and extremely short hair.

“Give it back,” I muttered, standing up. I was much too short to even attempt at getting it back, so he just taunted me with it.

“Second rule, no bitching to any sports team, including cheerleaders.” he said, lifting the hat higher out of reach.

“Third rule, no wearing bitchy t-shirts. Who the fuck are the Beatles?” the boy’s friend asked.

“Fourth rule, no bitching to anyone new.” a different voice said. I turned to my left and saw a lanky boy with red hair and freckles. The boy holding my hat looked very intimidated suddenly. “Give her hat back,” he said, pointing to it.

The jockey boy dropped my hat onto the floor and then sat straight back down at his table. “Sorry about them. They’re on the basketball and football team. They just think they’re better than everyone.”

“So why are they scared of you?” I asked.

“Because my uncle is the dean of this school. In other words, I could have them kicked off of their precious sports teams in a heartbeat.” he picked up my hat, brushed it off and handed it back to me.

“Using your powers for good, I see.” I said, pulling the hat on and putting my hands in my pockets.

“Without them, I’d just be another kid they can beat up.” he looked at the window for a moment. “I’m Drew, by the way.” he held out his hand.

“Evelyn.” I replied, shaking his hand. “Thanks, by the way.” he shrugged.

“They’re just being…I dunno. They like to beat up on anyone who has a pulse. Especially ones wearing awesome shirts.” he gestured to my Beatles shirt. I smiled.

“Good to know someone else here has any sort of decent taste.” I looked down.

“I guess I’ll see you around then, Evelyn.” he said, ruffling his hair gently and giving an awkward half-smile.

“I’ll see you around.” feeling as if that were my cue to leave, I picked up my iced coffee and walked out.

******