A Little Lie

Chapter Three

The brand-new copy of Melancholia didn't stop Milo from using every single one of their outings as an opportunity to bring up the great tragedy that occurred earlier that week. He'd been telling the same old story to anyone willing to listen; the more he talked about it – and Milo's been constantly talking about it – the more dramatic and over-exaggerated his tales about the untimely death of his favorite book became. By the end of the month, Lenore had heard the story almost the same number of times she's heard Milo read B.K. Barnett's novels in a room full of pretentious English Lit students.

The image of his face lighting up with excitement each time someone does as little as mention the word 'book' is burned in the back of her brain. Milo looks exceptionally sweet and almost childlike when he smiles like that. That exact smile of his is one of the many reasons why Lenore loves him so much. She brings up this memory each time his stories become more and more melodramatic; using them as a reminder to not burst into a fit of giggles each time he lies about the way the scalding hot coffee burnt the soft skin of his palms or gives a detailed explanation of the agony that pierced his body once he realized he's the reason why his beloved book was now drowning in hot brown liquid.

Lenore had no reason to be upset over Milo taking credit for her clumsiness. As a matter of fact, she's quite glad he'd been clueless enough to blame himself for her wrong doings. But, as she stands there, several feet away from where he is blissfully surrounded by a small group of people and retelling a story half the city of New York has already heard several thousand times over, Lenore can't help but wonder what sort of tales he'd be spinning out if she'd told him that she's been the culprit all along? Would've he taken that as an opportunity to paint her as this wretched, evil woman who has zero disregard for fine literature? Or would've he had thrown a fit and never mentioned that night ever again?

"I am so traumatized I can no longer drink coffee." Milo says to his small audience and Lenore almost chokes on her drink. What a fucking liar. The only reason he's still awake at this hour is because of the three cups of coffee he had that afternoon (as well as the large line of coke he snorted in the bathroom earlier tonight, but they don't talk about that).

"Where's the book now? What have you done with it?" A woman with an incredibly high-pitched voice asks and the sigh that leaves Milo's lips is so over the top, Lenore has to physically remove herself out of the room in order to avoid bursting into hysterics.

"And where do you think you're going?" Her plans on making a hasty exit to the bathroom fail miserably the second she accidentally runs into Ginger Roberts – the host of the party and the only person in the world able to make bowl cuts look cool. Ginger is tall, slender and chic in ways Lenore can only dream of. Her teeth are straight and her skin is glowing and she seems pretty unbothered by the fact that she isn't the current center of attention. "The party is that way." Ginger points one of her long, bony fingers towards the direction where Milo and the small crowd are currently standing. Returning to that particular conversation is the last thing Lenore wants to be doing in this exact moment, but how can she – a measly guest – say no to the birthday girl?

Without any further questions, Ginger gently wraps the rest of her bony fingers around Lenore's wrist and pulls her back inside. "Oh, George and Lana are here! Come – let's say hi." Lenore has no idea who either George or Lana are, but she follows Ginger nonetheless. She watches as the birthday girl kisses her guests in both cheeks – her bright red lipstick a token of her shameless affection and hospitality – before introducing Lenore as one of her very good friends.

Ginger's (slightly over-exaggerated) description leaves Lenore completely dumbfounded as she never in a million years would've expected to have one of New York City's most prominent It Girls call her a good friend. She smiles sheepishly at the couple whose smiles are just as warm and polite as the one Ginger had when Lenore and Milo arrived just a little over an hour ago.