Liars, Inc. (3 page)

October 22nd

PARVATI WAS LEANING UP AGAINST
the side of my beat-up Ford Escort by the time I got out of detention. Her wheels were a lot nicer, an almost-new VW Jetta with air-conditioning that actually worked, but it was too conspicuous. For some reason—probably just to see if her parents would do it—she had requested a purple paint job for her last birthday. Now the whole school referred to her car as the Grape.

“Max time.” She glanced around to see if anyone was watching before giving me a peck on the cheek. “My favorite time in the whole world.”

I unlocked the door for her and we both tossed our backpacks into the backseat.

“So,” she started, as I pulled away from the curb, “Preston and I had a little brainstorming session last night about what other
services
we could offer our fellow classmates.”

The muscles in my neck tightened. “You went over to Preston's house?”

“No, on the phone, silly,” Parvati said. “Don't be jealous. I'm all yours.”

I believed her, but I was still jealous. Pres and Parvati were friends before I knew either one of them. They had both attended the same ritzy private school until they managed to get expelled together as juniors. Neither of them ever told me exactly what they did to get kicked out. Pres claimed substance-induced amnesia, and Parvati vaguely explained it as “stealing a bunch of stupid stuff from different classrooms, rare books from English, chemicals from chem lab, that sort of thing.” Apparently this was a dare game they played with their friends: one group would steal a bunch of crazy shit, and another group would have to put it back without getting caught.

Each time I asked her about the story, the details got more vague, and part of me always imagined this string of thefts culminating with Parvati and Preston having wild sex on the headmaster's desk. Both of them assured me this was not the case, but I still couldn't shake the idea completely.

I pulled my car out into the street and headed toward the
beach. “What'd you two come up with?”

Parvati ticked things off on the pads of her fingers. “Lying. Forging permission slips. Calling in sick for people. Switching tests. Creating alibis.”

“Alibis?” I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, we really
are
starting a life of crime.”

“Not for crimes,” she said. “More like cover stories. Maybe someone is grounded but wants to sneak out to a party, or maybe a guy wants to take his girlfriend to that crappy Seabreeze Motel for the night. We can pretend to have group projects to work on or make up overnight field trips, that kind of thing.”

I nodded. “I guess the next question is, what are we going to do with all the money we're going to make?”

“Nights at the Seabreeze?” She laughed, but I knew she'd be down for it if I was, even though it was way below her standards.

“Is there any chance we could sneak up to your dad's cabin?” I asked. The Colonel's cabin was on the outskirts of the Angeles National Forest, a remote wooded area an hour north of here. Parvati and I had driven up there occasionally this past summer so we could be alone, but her dad loaned the place out to his military buddies during hunting season, so it was only safe at certain times of the year.

“It's still deer season.” Slouching down, she rested her
head on my shoulder and sighed. “Trust me. You're not the only one going crazy.” She reached across the center console and curled her hand around my thigh, her fingers toying with one of the fraying strands of my jeans. Her light touch was all it took to get me excited. The car swerved slightly as the wheel twisted a little in my hands. I swallowed hard.

Right on cue, we arrived at the Ravens' Cliff Overlook parking area. The lot was empty except for a pea-green Volkswagen bus covered in rainbow dancing bears and surf stickers. It belonged to the Jacobsen brothers, Vista P's resident clan of surfing demigods. Pres and I liked to surf, but the Jacobsens were
surfers
: shoeless, sand-covered, hand-wiggling, “chaka brah” surfers. If the ocean was right, you never saw them at school before lunchtime.

I shut off the engine and looked toward the water. In the distance, the dark blue of the Pacific met the lighter blue of the sky. A seagull swooped low, dive-bombing the waves in search of a fish. I turned toward Parvati. It was always a little awkward, those few seconds before we started hooking up. “How was newspaper?” I asked, not caring remotely about the answer.

“Scintillating,” she said, wiggling her way out of a black cardigan sweater. Underneath, she was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt with the word “Succubus” printed across her
chest and a pair of gray leggings.

My eyes followed the curve of her thighs. Skintight pants had a way of burning through the awkwardness. I leaned over and nuzzled my lips against her collarbone. “I find you pretty scintillating.”

“Oh yeah?” She reached down with one hand and reclined her seat, extending her neck to give me better access. “Any particular parts?”

I tugged at the collar of her T-shirt. “Maybe.” My hand inched the shirt downward, my lips trailing after it.

She squirmed as if I was tickling her. “You're bad.” She lifted my mouth to hers, biting my lower lip softly as she snaked her arms around the back of my neck. My fingers reached up under her T-shirt, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She kissed me harder. The windows got foggy. An hour and a half passed in an instant and my phone alarm chimed.

I sighed. “It's time to go back.” We couldn't be late. If we were, Colonel Dad would probably scramble a squadron of recon jets to find her. Her parents had threatened to send her to Blue Pointe Prep, a military school on the East Coast, if she got in trouble again. Being caught with me would be enough for them to make the call.

Parvati nodded, raising her seat back up. She reached beneath her shirt to hook her bra. “I know this sucks, Max.
I'll work on my parents, all right? Worst-case scenario, Mom and Dad said they'd shell out for a private room at USC if I behave until then and declare myself prelaw.”

“Great, so ten months from now you and I might get to be alone together.” I started the car and backed out of the parking place. “I thought you were going to major in Arabic or something.”

She leaned over to check her reflection in the rearview mirror. She finger-combed her shiny hair. “You can be prelaw and major in Arabic,” she said. “I'll play along for a while.”

I turned onto the road that led toward school. “More playing along,” I muttered.

Like the way she had convinced her parents that she and I were over by going to homecoming with Preston. Pres had called to make sure I was okay with the idea. He didn't actually want to go to the dance any more than I did, but as the Vista Palisades football captain he was expected to show up. Parvati had actually wanted to go, which surprised me, but I guess even the coolest chicks get sucked in by stupid shit like high school dances. It had turned out to be no big deal and we all got drunk later on at Preston's after-party, but she set up her “date” without even telling me, and I still got pissed when I thought about it. She never even apologized.
“Sorry” wasn't part of her vocabulary. She thought apologies were for the weak.

Parvati ruffled my messy brown hair, pushing my bangs back from my eyes. “Speaking of playing along, my parents said I could go to Preston's party next week.” She blinked her long eyelashes innocently.

Of course they would say that—they loved Preston. Colonel Dad had no idea Pres and Parvati got expelled together from Bristol Academy. Senator DeWitt had donated a truckload of cash so Preston could finish out the semester and then announced that Pres was switching to Vista P for his senior year to play for a bigger football district. Parvati's dad would probably shit a hand grenade if he knew the truth.

“What party?” I asked. “I thought he couldn't have parties anymore.” Senator DeWitt apparently had a shot at being appointed to the Presidential Cabinet next year, and he'd started cracking down on any activities that might be detrimental to his political career. He didn't want any scandals.

“The one I made up so we can hang out.” Parvati winked. “I told my parents it was a Halloween party. Maybe Pres will let us
haunt
one of the spare bedrooms for an hour.”

“Yeah, maybe.” It wasn't like Parvati and I would be the first high school kids to get it on at Pres's house, but it felt a little sketchy. What was he supposed to do while we got naked?

“Oh, come on, Max.” Parvati forced the corners of my mouth upward with her spangly blue fingernails. She leaned over and ran her teeth along my earlobe, sending a shot of chills down my spine and into my lap. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” I said, my face relaxing, “how can I refuse?”

October 28th

PRESTON OPENED THE DOOR WEARING
ripped jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with a pot-smoking zombie. A half-empty bottle of Irish whiskey dangled from his left hand. “Welcome to the party,” he said in a slightly slurred voice. He made air quotes around the word “party.”

“Nice hair,” I replied. From the neck up, he looked like he was ready for basic training. He must have spent the time between football practice and now at the salon, getting what I jokingly referred to as his weekly trim.

“Fuck you, Max Factor. My helmet wouldn't fit right if I let my hair get all long and girlie like yours.”

He disappeared into the cavernous living room, and I followed him through it and down to the basement, where
a movie was playing on the big-screen TV. Parvati was stretched out on the sofa in a black dress and knee-high socks patterned with glow-in-the-dark skulls. She sat up when she saw me. “I'm so glad you're here,” she purred, but her voiced hitched slightly and the words sounded forced.

“Me too. Now she'll quit talking so much.” Pres took a slug from the bottle of whiskey and then started fooling around on his computer. I flopped down on the sofa and started fooling around with Parvati.

As she crawled into my lap, I smelled alcohol on her breath. I wondered how long she'd been here, how long she and Pres had been drinking together. She glued her lips to the place where my neck met my shoulder and proceeded to suck hard enough to leave a mark. She pulled her head back for a second and admired her handiwork. Then she pressed her mouth to my skin again.

“I should be charging you for this,” Preston said. “You can be Liars, Inc.'s first official customer.”

“My parents aren't the ones threatening to send me to military school,” I said. “It's her alibi. Charge
her.
”

Parvati came up for air long enough to mumble something about putting it on her tab.

Preston picked up a yellow squirt gun and managed to hit the back of her head from across the room. “Seriously. Cool off, Pervy. I sit on that sofa sometimes. At least wait until the
maid goes home so you can use a guest bedroom.”

Parvati wiped away a spray of water that was trickling down her neck. “What kind of weirdo just happens to have a loaded squirt gun lying around the house?”

“A weirdo with badly behaved pets,” Preston said, aiming the gun at his mom's Himalayan cat, who was curled up on an empty bookshelf and minding its own business. The cat jumped when the spray hit it, hissing, nearly falling to the floor. It gave Preston a baleful look with its smooshed-in face before abandoning the shelf and padding its way up the stairs.

A girl screamed at us from the big-screen TV. We all turned to watch as a man wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled low swung at her with an axe. The silvery tip lodged in her forehead and blood spattered onto the camera lens. The scene cut away to another room in the house where the dead girl's friends were giggling and doing each other's hair.

“That's what she gets for saying Woody in the Hoodie three times while looking in the mirror,” Parvati said. “If you're going to be stupid, you deserve what you get.” Her voice sounded off again.

Preston gave her a look but didn't say anything. He took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey and then turned back to his computer.

I glanced back and forth between him and Parvati. “Are
you two all right? You're acting weird.”

They both started to speak at the same time, but then the maid yelled from the top of the stairs. “Preston. Enchiladas in fridge, okay? You just heat. You need more help before I go?”

“No. We're good, Esmeralda.
Gracias
,” he hollered back, without looking away from the computer screen.

“Man, you'd starve if it wasn't for her,” I said.

He grunted in agreement. “I know. You should invite me over to your house to eat. I want to kick back around the kitchen table and have a nice family dinner.”

I snorted. “If you call Hamburger Helper a nice family dinner.” I never invited Pres or Parvati over. I wasn't embarrassed by where I lived, but I figured they'd rather hang out in their own bigger, quieter houses.

“At least your parents make an effort.” Preston tipped back the bottle of whiskey again.

Parvati yanked me up from the overstuffed sofa. “I believe I owe you a life-changing time.”

“What's your hurry?” I lowered my voice. “I just got here.” I wasn't sure if I felt bad about taking advantage of Pres or if I was going into panic mode at the thought of getting to be with Parvati again. I hadn't found the time to take precautionary measures today and didn't like the thought of lasting only five seconds, especially in Preston's house.

She turned to Preston and fluttered her thick black eyelashes in his direction. “We'll be back, all right?”

“Can I record you guys?” He turned toward us and held up his phone.

Parvati threw a yellow sofa pillow in his direction, and he took aim with the squirt gun again. “You're a freak,” she said, using a second pillow as a shield.

He rolled his eyes and turned his phone around so that he was filming himself. “Sadly, it appears there will be no footage of this epic union.” He pocketed his phone and fiddled with the gold band of his watch. “Go on. I wouldn't want to be the guy who stands in the way of true lust.”

Parvati's eyes narrowed. “For all
you
know, it could be true love.”

I coughed. Even though we'd been dating for four months, I didn't think Parvati and I were anywhere near the L word. Not that I wasn't crazy about her. Love just always seemed like something for people who were older. Stable. People who had their shit together.

Preston grabbed the TV remote off a glass end table. “You're not capable of love, Pervy.”

“You wish you knew what I was capable of.” She scoffed.

I couldn't help but feel like a second conversation was taking place in the dead space between their words. I looked back and forth again, wondering if they'd had a fight.

Pres flicked a button and axe-wielding Woodie became pulsing music videos. He punched the volume up a few notches, and his features melted into his usual relaxed grin. “Use the guest room on the main floor. And don't say I never gave you anything.”

Parvati practically skipped up the stairs and down the hall. I followed behind her, creeping around each corner as if I might run into Senator DeWitt or Esmeralda at any moment. The guest bedroom was at the back corner of the house, its wooden door pulled tightly shut. I froze up for a moment, half convinced Parvati's father would be hiding in the bedroom with a squadron of air force commandos.

“Come on.” She pushed the door open. The room wasn't much bigger than the rooms at the Seabreeze, but it was nicer, with muted blue walls and pastel paintings of flowers and lakes. The bed was wide, with a fluffy gray comforter. Parvati collapsed backward into the center of the mattress, pulling me down with her. Threading her fingers through the belt loops of my jeans, she pulled my body up against hers, her mouth finding the tender spot she'd been sucking on earlier. “Max time,” she murmured. “My favorite time in the whole world.”

I rolled her over so that she was on top of me. Her skin glowed. Her eyes were dark tunnels, made even deeper by the thick eyeliner goo she was wearing. “Are you guys fighting?”
I asked. “Things seemed kind of tense downstairs.”

“It's fine.” She brushed her lips against mine. “I think he's pissed about something online. Probably lost more money.”

“Are you sure? Because I always felt like he was into you—”

“Preston is only into Preston,” she said. “And I'm only into you.”

I loved the way she said it. So matter-of-fact. But I didn't want Pres to be pissed at us. I didn't exactly have a lot of friends. “I don't know, Parv—” My voice cracked in the middle of her name.

“Oh, that's so cute. You're nervous.” Her fingertips expertly undid the button of my jeans and whatever I'd been planning to say died on my lips. “I'll relax you,” she said. Pushing my shirt up to my armpits, she kissed her way downward from my chest.

My muscles went weak. I sank deep into the soft mattress, like it was an ocean and the current was pulling me under. My breath caught in my throat. I was drowning, in a good way. Nerve cells fired across my body, little fireworks that made my arms and legs twitch. Parvati slowly worked her way back up, landing soft kisses on my abs and chest until we were eye to eye and I was staring into those dark hollows again. She tugged her slippery dress over her head, and the heat of her body made my heart stutter. Blood pulsed hot in my veins. I muttered something, a combination of words
that didn't make sense together.

She laughed her tinkly little laugh. I grabbed a condom from my wallet, and we quickly lost the rest of our clothes.

Parvati took the foil package from my hand and opened it. “I got this.” I watched her for a moment, my eyes taking in every inch of her bare skin. Then I pulled her tight against me. Her thick hair fell around my face like a tiny cave. The room disappeared as we started to move together.

Time passed. Slowly. Quickly. I had no idea. Wave after wave crashed down on me. I just kept moving. Faster and faster until everything blinked hot. I exhaled forcefully and Parvati collapsed on top of me a few seconds later, her body slick with sweat.

We lay there, motionless, for several minutes. “God, you are so amazing.” I buried my face in her hair.

“You too,” she said, lifting up so that I could see her face. Her eyes were shining; her mouth curled into a wild smile. “Still feel tense?”

“Maybe a little.” I grinned. “Why? Are you up for a replay?”

She dragged one fingernail down the middle of my breastbone. “Pres said his mom won't be home until after midnight.”

“Oh yeah?” Fake or not, this was going down on the books as Preston's best party ever.

About twenty minutes later, Parvati and I got dressed and then laughed at our failed attempt to remake the bed. The comforter hung crookedly over one side and was lumpy where I had tried to tuck it underneath the row of feather pillows.

She shook her head. “I hope Pres has Esmeralda on speed dial. It'll take someone trained in the fine art of bed-making to fix this.”

“I know, right?” I said. “Let's go find him and see if he'll share those enchiladas. I've kind of worked up an appetite.”

Preston was still downstairs, the television now muted. He was typing out an email, his fingers rattling the keys with machine-gun-like ferocity. When he saw us, he minimized the screen. “I trust you guys didn't break anything?” He scanned both of us up and down. “Nobody needs medical attention?”

“The pillows might need a little fluffing,” Parvati said.

Preston snickered. He slouched back in his chair, relaxed, like he'd fixed whatever was bothering him. Or maybe he was just drunk enough not to care anymore.

“I owe you one, Pres,” I mumbled, slicking my still-damp bangs back behind one ear.

He smirked. “Wait until you get the bill.”

It made me think about Liars, Inc. again. About alibis. I wasn't the only guy in school who struggled to be alone with
his girlfriend. Would I have paid for the opportunity Preston just gave us? Hell yeah. Suddenly the idea of coming up with cover stories for classmates in the same situation made a whole lot of sense. After all, it wasn't like we'd be hurting anybody.