Chapter 8: Habitual Liar

Did last night really happen? It's getting hard to distinguish fact from fiction. It's all a blur now. I wake up early and find an impatient Evie waiting for me at the end of my bed.

"What the hell happened last night? Where did you go? How did you get back here?" Evie taps her fingers on my desk with her bright nail polish.

Now what am I supposed to do? I did text Dante that I wasn't feeling well. I could just roll with that story and be done with it.

"I got sick. I think some one spiked my drink and I got a ride home with a girl from my English class. It's fine. I text Dante. I feel bad about it. But my stomach was fire and you and Benjamin were enjoying each other's faces too much. I didn't want to bother you."

I'm not a habitual liar or a pathological one, but lying to Evie is getting easier. I don't want to make a habit of lying to her, but until I know how I feel about Blake and if it's worth it my lips need to remain shut. He and I have an understanding about that.

This is a ne