We Were Liars | ONC 2020 ✔

Coffee Shop

FOUR DAYS AFTER

The police took Brittany away in a body bag.

The whole time, I watched Nat Evans from a safe distance. He seemed mildly distressed, but otherwise unaffected. I could offer no explanation for how he had killed Brittany or forced her to confess to Avery's murder for him, but I knew he was guilty.

In the cliché horror movie of my life, 'Death' came in the form of a drug-dealing bad boy with an iron fist and a terrible temper. That much I knew. But I couldn't prove it, since even if I went to the police with the texts and the phone, there was no proof that 'Death' was Nat Evans.

Principal Bell sent us home for the entire weekend.

☆☆☆

EIGHT DAYS LATER

Starbucks sold delicious, but grossly overpriced caffeine. Still, it was in Starbucks that I sat at three on Saturday afternoon, waiting for the one alive person my age I could slightly tolerate to show up.

My mother had nearly sobbed with happiness when I'd told her I was going to meet a friend for coffee. She, of course, had asked whether it was the boy who'd dropped me off on Tuesday. I'd replied with a simple yes. She had actually cried then, ecstatic over the fact that I had a friend other than Ette---who wasn't exactly around to be my only friend anymore. Then she'd promptly swooped up her car keys and insisted on fetching me there so I would have no chance to change my mind and escape.

'Death' hadn't texted me since that day, but little things had popped up on Wednesday after Brittany's murder that I was pretty sure was his work. For starters, Elysse Robinson, traumatised and shaky from Brittany's death, had gone to her locker and found the word SLUT tattooed across it in bright red Sharpie. She'd instantly burst into tears then, face burning with embarrassment and regret as the others in the hall laughed. Then again, it was likely that had been Nat's doing, but it could have easily been any of the others in the school who revelled in a Liar's downfall.

It was three oh-eight when Ezra finally showed up, wearing his MCR t-shirt again and a bright grin. "Sorry I'm a little late," he apologised. His legs were clad in those weirdly fashionable jeans with the large holes in the knees. I curled my lip up at them. I'd never understood the appeal of ripped jeans---or jeans in general, for that matter. Khakis were obviously superior.

"I said three. It's three oh-eight. I nearly left," I stated.

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. I'll buy you a drink."

I raised my eyebrows. "They're extremely expensive."

"And I've got money."

I opened my mouth again, but Ezra interrupted me, "No arguments, Canterbury. If this is going to be a successful date, you'd better let me get you at least one coffee. Is an Americano alright?" His words threw me into shock. A date? Was that what this was? It couldn't be...I had to have heard him wrongly. I nodded, dumbfounded.

Soon, Ezra was settling down in the chair opposite me, pushing a white paper cup towards me. I responded with an uncharacteristically quiet thanks. "So, Wednesday was pretty crazy, huh?" he said. He wasn't smiling anymore, his grin most likely sobered by the idea of a schoolmate's death.

"Indeed. It's not every day that a...Liar dies, although it seems to be occurring much more as of recent times." I refrained from calling Brittany an idiotic female dog in front of him, as I did not know Ezra's opinion of her.

He nodded. "Honestly, the way it's going, I suppose I should be glad Avery...passed away...before I could carry out my initiation. If I was a Liar...I could have a target on my back too." He looked away from me for a moment, nervously pinching the bridge of his nose. When he turned his gaze back upon me, his eyes were bright once more. "But enough about that. I...um, you wanna talk about something?"