Perfect Lie
Chapter One
One Day at a Time
“Was that you I heard creeping around last night?” Trish asked, as she pulled open the fridge and scavenged for something to eat. Trish Wentworth, the epitome of everything I’d hated in high school. I stifled a yawn as I stretched my arms over my head and watched her sift through our nearly empty kitchen.
“I was getting a drink. It’s important to stay hydrated,” I replied dryly.
Trish’s head spun around, and her blue eyes narrowed as she tried to decide if I was being a smartass or finally listening to some of her beauty advice. Her bright‐blond hair whipped across her face as she moved. It shone like gold atop her porcelain skin, and I sank lower into my seat, knowing I should take her advice more seriously. Girls dreamed of looking half as beautiful as Trish, with her pixie‐like nose and high cheekbones. Disney couldn’t create a princess as beautiful. Of course none of them were raging alcoholics who loved to get high.
“Your skin is a little dry. Wouldn’t hurt for you to moisturize.” She shrugged as her head disappeared through the open door. I rolled my eyes as I fought the urge to kick her in the ass and send her face first into a leftover meat loaf.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I yawned again, this time moaning loudly.
“Beauty sleep isn’t just a phrase. It would do you some good.”
“Thanks again, Trish. You’re a fount of wisdom this morning.” I couldn’t hide my frustration after a night of nightmares.
“Whatever. I have class in an hour, but I’m skipping it to hit the gym. Wanna come?”
I snorted, my hand covering my mouth as soon as the sound escaped. “Last time I went to that god‐awful place, I fell off the treadmill, and you said I wasn’t allowed to go back.” I couldn’t help the laugh that followed. I hated the gym almost as much as I hated pretending to be perfect. It was exhausting. “I have a meeting today anyway.”
Trish eyed me for a moment but nodded as she left to go back down the hallway, a bottle of water in her hand. “Ugh. Who puts this much time into their future?” She shook her head as she disappeared into her room. I rolled my eyes, quietly mocking her as I picked at the polish that peeled from my thumbnail. I don’t know if Trish believed my blatant lie about the meetings, or if she genuinely didn’t care what I was up to every Friday morning.
I’d vaguely explained the meetings as being a group of college students who gathered to chat about how women were being treated in the work force. I groaned loudly as I stood from the table and stretched, my favorite shirt riding up over my belly button. I was outgrowing it, and the thought of it not fitting one day set off my anxiety. I tried to focus on the novel I’d been reading, trying to get lost in the world of the characters in my head as I made my way to my room to get dressed for the day.
I absent‐mindedly pulled on a worn pair of fitted jeans and a navy‐blue tank top. I gathered my hair in messy ponytail as I stared at myself in the mirror over my dresser. I had changed a lot over the last year, and I barely recognized myself. My hair, once a dull brown, was now vibrant blond. I had traded my dark eyeliner for rosy cheeks and a pale‐pink gloss on my lips. Still I was a plain Jane by anyone’s standards. Freckles dusted over my nose and across the apples of my cheeks. My lips were thinner than I would like, and my eyes were big and wide like a Kewpie doll’s.
I slid my feet into my matching blue sandals and grabbed my bag, an old army‐green tote with a strap that was long enough to wear across my body.
“I’m leaving,” I called out, but Trish didn’t respond as I shuffled to the door of our cramped apartment then pulled it closed behind me and locked it.
The warm air assaulted me as I stepped into the bright Orlando sun. I chose this state to go to college because it was far from Mississippi, and people who lived this close to the ocean were supposed to be happy. At least that’s what movies and television had led me to believe. It also happened to be where my uncle lived, even though I avoided him at all costs. He still had that look in his eye whenever he talked to me, and I couldn’t stand the pity. I regretted ever showing up on his doorstep and burdening him with my baggage. I just wanted to forget and move on.
Marie’s office was only a few blocks away, so I didn’t need to bother catching a bus. I enjoyed the walk. It was the only time I could really be alone, though I always felt I was, even in the most crowded rooms. It was hot, but there wasn’t as much humidity compared to back home, so it was still easy to breathe, not like a ton of bricks pressing against my chest as I inhaled.