Read Online How to Tell a Lie by Delphine Dryden - Free Book Online
Authors: Delphine Dryden
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was true. Tess had dated Danny throughout her junior and senior years, but she had never been under any illusions about his long-term viability or his short-term fidelity. She saw him as convenient, as the type of person she should be dating. And she was the type he should date. He was a tight end, and he went on to some small amount of college fame as a player until a back injury knocked him out of the game for good. Now he was living in Indianapolis and selling insurance. He had married another girl he knew from high school, and Allison had been invited to the wedding. She skipped it. She knew, because she had been unfortunate enough to drive past and see them, that Danny had screwed one of the bridesmaids in the parking lot behind Duke’s Steakhouse during the rehearsal dinner. She doubted it was Danny’s last bachelor fling. Going to the wedding would have felt dishonest.
But the incident, though depressing, did serve to confirm Tess’ fundamental ability to size people up. It also confirmed that Tess had issues of her own, because she had voluntarily aligned herself with Danny for her own cold-hearted ends for the two most important years of her high-school career. Thereby avoiding, not coincidentally, other more potentially meaningful entanglements. She had never been one to make close friends easily, despite her vast number of good acquaintances. She tended to collect people and hold them in orbit around her, keeping them at a distance of her choosing. She tended to date men she sort of disliked, men with whom she had little in common.
Allison decided to drop the whole subject, although she knew it was never Danny who had held Tess’ gaze at all those football games. She wasn’t watching the tight end with the big shoulders and the shaggy blond hair, who drank a six pack of beer every Friday and Saturday night and—it had startled Allison to realize Tess knew this—had probably still managed to sleep with at least half the cheerleaders and a good quarter of the drill team girls.
No, Tess’ interest had always been elsewhere. Tess had only ever had eyes for the quarterback, even though she refused to admit it. Jake Hogan. He had returned to Cranston a few years ago and since that time Allison noticed that, although she complained about it every time, Tess seemed to find any number of excuses to go home every few weeks. This local color story was just the latest in the series.
“Yep, it was your dad cooking,” Tess said with a laugh. They pulled up to the curb in front of Allison’s house and waved as they got out of the two-seater. Their fathers, not twins but still looking too much alike to be anything but brothers, were standing in the side yard next to the big charcoal grill. Smoke was already pouring generously from the coals, and the two men were staring earnestly at the embers and making final adjustments; another flake of mesquite here, a high point in the coals knocked down over there, and then Allison’s uncle Stuart produced a heaping plate of steaks and started placing them carefully over the heat.
“Ally, just in time. Put your bag inside and then get me the marinade from the counter in the kitchen, please. With the brush.” Her father had barely looked up from his serious task, and he spoke gruffly, but when Allison stopped to hug him he smiled almost shyly and kissed her on the forehead. Her uncle, greeting Tess, gave her a half-hug in passing as she headed for the short set of steps that led to the kitchen door.
Allison was almost knocked over by her cousin Mikey , all six foot two of him, barreling through the screen door and vaulting down all three steps. Hard on his heels was a Golden Retriever, tongue lolling out to the side, entire body wagging in anticipation as the boy turned mid-flight and flipped a flying disk across the wide lawn behind the house. The disk made it almost to the end of the yard, where it sloped down toward the creek, before the dog snapped it from the air and
But the incident, though depressing, did serve to confirm Tess’ fundamental ability to size people up. It also confirmed that Tess had issues of her own, because she had voluntarily aligned herself with Danny for her own cold-hearted ends for the two most important years of her high-school career. Thereby avoiding, not coincidentally, other more potentially meaningful entanglements. She had never been one to make close friends easily, despite her vast number of good acquaintances. She tended to collect people and hold them in orbit around her, keeping them at a distance of her choosing. She tended to date men she sort of disliked, men with whom she had little in common.
Allison decided to drop the whole subject, although she knew it was never Danny who had held Tess’ gaze at all those football games. She wasn’t watching the tight end with the big shoulders and the shaggy blond hair, who drank a six pack of beer every Friday and Saturday night and—it had startled Allison to realize Tess knew this—had probably still managed to sleep with at least half the cheerleaders and a good quarter of the drill team girls.
No, Tess’ interest had always been elsewhere. Tess had only ever had eyes for the quarterback, even though she refused to admit it. Jake Hogan. He had returned to Cranston a few years ago and since that time Allison noticed that, although she complained about it every time, Tess seemed to find any number of excuses to go home every few weeks. This local color story was just the latest in the series.
“Yep, it was your dad cooking,” Tess said with a laugh. They pulled up to the curb in front of Allison’s house and waved as they got out of the two-seater. Their fathers, not twins but still looking too much alike to be anything but brothers, were standing in the side yard next to the big charcoal grill. Smoke was already pouring generously from the coals, and the two men were staring earnestly at the embers and making final adjustments; another flake of mesquite here, a high point in the coals knocked down over there, and then Allison’s uncle Stuart produced a heaping plate of steaks and started placing them carefully over the heat.
“Ally, just in time. Put your bag inside and then get me the marinade from the counter in the kitchen, please. With the brush.” Her father had barely looked up from his serious task, and he spoke gruffly, but when Allison stopped to hug him he smiled almost shyly and kissed her on the forehead. Her uncle, greeting Tess, gave her a half-hug in passing as she headed for the short set of steps that led to the kitchen door.
Allison was almost knocked over by her cousin Mikey , all six foot two of him, barreling through the screen door and vaulting down all three steps. Hard on his heels was a Golden Retriever, tongue lolling out to the side, entire body wagging in anticipation as the boy turned mid-flight and flipped a flying disk across the wide lawn behind the house. The disk made it almost to the end of the yard, where it sloped down toward the creek, before the dog snapped it from the air and
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