Immediately, I jump to my feet. Grandma Carolyn has cancer. All I want is to blow off school and run through the woods to go check on her. This news explains why she was so emotional the last time I saw her.

"It's not the bad kind of cancer, is it?" I ask.

Dad winces. "There ain't no good kind, Ror."

"You know what I mean. She's not going to die, is she?"

Dad rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he's uncomfortable. "I don't know. Hell, the doctors don't know either. She has to go into the hospital for some exploratory surgery."

"When?"

"Next week sometime," he says, standing up and carrying his coffee cup over to the sink. "Tonight, after you get home from practice, we'll go over there together."

I nod, but make no move to get ready for school. "Hey, did you tell them about what happened? You know, taking the truck."

He shakes his head. "They've had enough to worry about."

I look up at him, and though I don't say it, he knows I'm grateful.




It's like I'm sleepwalking through the day. I can answer questions, carry on conversations, but I feel a million miles away emotionally. I feel disconnected.

Practice starts in fifteen minutes and I run back to my locker for a power bar. Someone taps me on the shoulder as I'm digging around for it.

"Hey, Rory." It's Cassie. She's standing behind me, her books pressed against her chest. "What happened to you Saturday night?"

She stands there looking all doe eyed and meek, not at all like the girl who was calling me clueless, and laughing at me. I can't picture this girl making the noises that she and Boyd were making Saturday night. But I know what kind of person she is now. She thrives on being chased. She doesn't care who wins, it's all about the chase.

"I left."

If she's waiting for me to say I'm sorry she's in for a surprise. She's the one who owes me an apology, but I already know I won't collect.

"But why? I told you to come find me when you were ready to leave."

I pull the wrapper back on the power bar and study the colorful packaging. I can't look into her eyes, not yet. If I do I just might fall under her spell again.

"Rory?"

"I did. I came looking for you but Boyd found you first. Didn't he give you a ride home? I would have thought after everything that happened between you two, surely he would have given you a ride."

"He took me to a gas station. I had to call my daddy. I lied for you, Rory. I told my daddy that your truck broke down."

"Well, thanks for lying," I say. She has no clue that I can see through her now. All I see is what a liar she is. But when I look into her eyes, I see another liar in the reflection. Me.

"Cassie, you used me, to go to that party to be with Boyd."

"The party was your idea, Rory."

She was right. The party had been my idea, but I know if I'd taken her bowling, Boyd would have shown up.

"I'm waiting," she says.

"For what? An apology for leaving you at the party or for seeing the real you?"

There is an angry flash in her eyes. "Rory, I'd be careful if I were you. You aren't real popular around here."

"You're right."

Maybe she sees she's not getting anywhere, because she does this hissy fit about face and stomps off down the hall.

You know what I do? I laugh, because I'm no longer under her spell and it feels damned good.

Stepping into the bathroom, I study myself in the mirror.

"You're not real popular," he says.

"I know," I say. "I'm okay with that. How about you?"

I think about the past few months. Pretending to be someone else didn't exactly make me happy. Living a lie, rather, living life as a liar isn't fulfilling.

I stare at the goofy looking kid with the big green eyes, and the wavy hair that seems to have a life of its own, and smile.

"Yep, I'm okay with it."