Five Month Lie | t. holland

June | II

Only a minute passed before you heard someone calling your name. With a start you realized it was Tom. You hadn't recognized his British accent.

Quickly, you grabbed your bag and wiped at the flow of tears on your cheeks.

"___?!" Tom's voice was hoarse as if he'd been running.

You slid off the park bench and ran through the nearest grove of trees until you were so deep in the forest you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

Stumbling over a root, you crashed to the ground scraping your hands and knees on the rough grass. More tears spilled out onto your face and dripped down your chin and neck.

How? How was it possible? How was it true? Peter had been your boyfriend; your best friend. He had given you his time and you had given him yours. You loved him.

"Do I?" You asked yourself in a sob. "I don't even know him!" You screamed into the foliage you could sense was above you.

Shaking from exhaustion and the sheer force of the emotions you were too shocked to identify, you sank to your knees and let your chin drop to your chest while you took a deep a heaving breath of air.

Then you let out a scream of rage, of hurt, of sorrow, of loss. Your throat felt dry, thick with emotion, and raw.

Then you felt the ground beneath your forehead as you bent over in a crouch and hugged yourself. The air was cool and damp, foreshadowing rainfall, but you paid it no mind. You were too confused and hurt to think straight.

Crying without thought of where you were or what could happen, you laid on the forest floor and sobbed until you lost track of time. Restless sleep overtook you for a time but it was full of fitful wakings.

Finally, after hours of lying on the damp floor, you sat up and felt around for your bag. You couldn't find it.

But to you it hardly mattered. Your mind was foggy and filled with tainted memories of Peter. You had no idea what would happen now. Was it your call?

"Of course it's my call." You snapped at yourself. "He lied to me. He doesn't have any leverage."

You sniffed a few times before taking a few deep breaths. Your stomach rumbled and you wondered what time it was.

Thunder cracked above you and as you looked up you could faintly make out the outline of the leaves above from the slight sunrise.

Shaking, you searched again for your bag and this time was able to find it.

You had no intention of trying to face Tom, but if you didn't get water soon you felt like you would pass out.

Slowly, you pushed yourself into a standing position and turned around, unsure of the way out.

After some consideration, you decided to just start walking. The forest wasn't that huge, you would find your way out eventually. 

You tried to turn on your phone but it was dead. You figured you would have to take the bus home when you got out of the trees since you couldn't call anyone.

"That's why he called Harry Haz. His name isn't Harry, its Harrison." You realized while you walked.

The work trips to LA, the leisure of his vacation days and money, the reluctance to go out in public, all of it fit into place. He was from London, he had a dog, he played Peter Parker in Marvel movies.

You stopped. 

The name tag.

The very first day you and Tom had met, he had been wearing a name tag that said "Hello, my name is Peter"

You had assumed it was his name, for why would he wear it otherwise?

Now you knew why.

But why hadn't he just told you the truth?

He had lied  to you. To your face.

You thought you could trust him. Where was that trust now? Five months of trust gone. A five month scandal; a five month bundle of hurt; a-

"Five month lie." You whispered into the darkness.