Believe Me, I'm Lying

Chapter One

*Bleep, bleep, bleep* The blaring wake up call from my dreaded alarm sadly reminded me that, like it or not, I'd have to go on with my life. I had spent the last two days doing nothing but sulking. Instead of hanging out with my friends, I decided to get 3 tubs of ice cream and a whole Costco pizza. Now, I had to suck it up (and in) so I could face him. Maybe I wouldn't even see him, though. I mean, he's taking a few different classes, so what are the odds? Still, we'd share the same friends, and I doubt he'd cut ties with them, nor would I. I knew Christopher wouldn't be petty about any of this, but what worried me the most was that he wouldn't be affected. I would have to show up and be the dump-ee, the one whose world was turned upside down. Christopher's world remained untouched, maybe even better in his eyes. I couldn't let him win like this, letting him think I was dragging him down. As I lay in bed, I came to the conclusion that I had to show Christopher what he had lost. I was determined to win.

My newfound, upbeat attitude was only lifted even more when I walked down the hardwood stairs to smell the faintly sweet aroma of pancakes.

"Aunt Jill! You made breakfast!" I exclaimed giddily when I entered the kitchen. My aunt's back was turned towards me as she faced the stove, reaching into the cabinets to her left for some plates.

     "Of course," she scoffed, "my only niece is going into her senior year! It was a special occasion." She flashed me a quick smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the pancakes, Aunt Jill's dark red waves flipping back.

I walked over to the island, pouring two glasses of milk into the tall glass cups that were already there. While my Aunt Jill can do many other tasks that contribute to running a household (i.e., taxes), cooking isn't one of them. She's mastered a few recipes in her lifetime, with blueberry pancakes being one of them. Her career as a wedding planner was always primary to other skills she could pay for someone else to do. With her career focusing on the union of love, some may find it surprising that Aunt Jill isn't married, but to me it makes sense. I always thought that she'd get her fill of marriage simply by being surrounded by it. Aunt Jill claims to be content with her life, and I believe her.

I brought the glasses over to the brown wooden table in the kitchen just as Aunt Jill was finishing up the table setting. "These smell delicious," I gushed, eyeing the stack of pancakes at the table's center.

"Thank you," Aunt Jill grinned proudly when she sat at the head of the table, "I hope they taste just as good, too."

"I know they will," I assured her, sitting on the chair to her left. Immediately, I picked off the top two pancakes from the stack and put them on my plate. Just because I was done feeling sorry for myself, doesn't mean that my appetite was gone.

"So," Aunt Jill grinned widely, setting her fork down, "are you excited for your senior year?" My aunt had barely mentioned school to me recently, or even anything concerning me since she had gotten back. Still, I knew that if I did fill her in on everything that has happened, I might have to fix my makeup.

"Uh, yeah," I reply nonchalantly, attempting to seem relaxed and taken, "new year, top class. It'll be fun."

Aunt Jill did not buy it. "Really, you aren't any more excited?" She rolled her eyes, then picked up her fork and knife and proceeded to cut her pancakes up. "This should be your best year of high school, so enjoy it and have fun, Scarlett!" Aunt Jill looked me dead in the eyes, sternly giving me orders to let loose before she stabbed a few pieces of blueberry pancake with her fork.

I smiled meekly through a mouthful of food, my muffled voice answering with the words, "I'll try!"

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