Pieces of Lies (20 page)

I nuzzled against his chest. “Sounds like something else I know.”

For hours I tossed and turned in Josh’s arms. I just couldn’t get comfortable and was unable to get everything that had happened with Clint out of my head. My greatest fear was my identity and how much it affected my happiness. It kept getting in the way at every turn my life took. There was no escape and no way around it. Even here at McLaren, with my fake name, far from the reach of New York, my identity managed to take away the first handful of happiness I had a hold on in a long time. 

I tried not to think about all my fears and turned my thoughts back to Josh, being in his supportive arms, not letting me go, trying to be an outlet for my pain. He was so strong for me, it was no wonder he couldn’t face his own fears.

Finally I stopped squirming, and turned so that I was laying side on, face to face with Josh. He was laying quietly with his eyes shut, lost in thought.

“Josh.”  His eyes blinked open to stare directly at me.

“Yes Norah.”

“Do you ever think about going back to New York?”

His body stiffened. Just bringing up New York made him tense. “Norah don’t.”

“Don’t what? It’s been a long time since I brought it up.”

His body remained rigid as I continued to push the subject.

“I know, but I still feel,”

‘Scared?” I said, finishing his sentence. He relaxed a little as I voiced the feelings he didn’t want to convey.

“You know I lost everything in New York, Norah. My parents, my life, my future. It just, hurts.”

I started to think about how lost I was in high school and how it was Josh who helped me get control. It was about time I started being every bit the voice of reason and support he was for me.

“You know someone once told me that if I don’t face my fears, I’ll never overcome them.”

I felt Josh’s body exhale as he pulled me closer.

“I remember that.’ Josh half whispered into my ear as he nuzzled forward into my neck.

“Those words were from your mouth Josh.”

He sighed and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. I laid my head on his chest and he began to stroke my hair.

‘I know.”

I could tell he was deep in thought as his fingers curled around my hair at the tips. It was a trait I had observed many times before and usually it was when he was trying to make some kind of decision.

“Joshua?”

He stopped stroking, and half-fisted my hair, almost like he was terrified about what I was about to say next.

“Yes Norah.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but one day you’ll have to deal with it. Something will happen that will make you confront those feelings. Something will be bigger than that fear,” and that’s when Josh’s whole body shuddered.

“Yes, I know, that’s the problem,” he struggled to say.

“What does that mean?” I asked, confused. Josh lifted my head from his chest so I could see his eyes. He opened his lips to continue, but bit his lip and instead lay my head back down onto his chest and began stroking my hair again.

“Nothing, now come on, get some rest.”

Chapter 13

Desperation

Josh stayed with me the following night and then the next. We ordered in takeout food and just hung out, like we did back in high school. Josh avoided bringing up Clint and I was thankful for his diversion. Our conversation was light. We spoke of our classes, music, movies and books. We spoke of anything but the Lappell and Clint. He knew if I wasn’t bringing it up then there was no way I would talk about it. I managed to put my anger and frustration aside while Josh was with me. His presence soothed my wounded and confused heart.

I still had a hard time making sense of what I had just learned about Clint. I felt that our whole relationship was built from a lie and not from the deep emotional and physical connection that I believed we had the moment we met. Now, in my semi-surreal mental state, I was entertaining thoughts that maybe I was set up right from the beginning. Had Clint staged that scene with Josh at that de-virgin party to weasel his way into getting close to me right from that first night? Had the Lappell known who I was since the moment I had arrived at McLaren? 

The more I analyzed the possibilities, the more confused I felt. Something told me I was looking for holes that weren’t there, but another part of me, one that knew better from experience with these types of groups, told me that anything was possible and the person you trust most, can easily become the one who turns out to be the biggest fake of all, stabbing you in the back.

I was finding it increasingly difficult to separate my past from my present when trying to figure out the real truths in the situation. I wanted to believe so desperately that Clint and I did not come together because of some order given to him by the Lappell.

The darkness in me was awake and alive, growing fast. It was a version of me that embodied a manic-like state. Josh had seen this side of me many times in high school during a period in my life when I was only starting to really see and understand the violent and disturbing nature of my father’s activities. 

When I acted out in high school, I was unpredictable, highly emotional and even crazy aggressive. My father controlled my behavior by trying to control me, limiting my social life and boyfriends and watching me like a hawk, monitoring my every movement. I knew he was so extreme because he feared for my safety, but it took many years, and Josh, to help me find a calmness and peace within myself and find different ways to vent when I felt myself slipping into that black hole. 

Therapy was useless. I already knew where my problems stemmed from. I didn’t need a therapist to tell me my issues were from a dead mother and a mobster father. What I needed was an outlet for my mind, a way to deal with myself when I wanted to act out. So I turned to other things, like my art, and it was also Josh who helped me discover how beneficial firing guns could be in getting all my frustrations out.

One day when I was fifteen, Josh dragged me to an abandoned warehouse, put a gun in my hand and said, “If you don’t confront your fears Norah, you’ll never overcome them.” When I fired that gun for the first time, my mind became clear and peaceful. I felt strong and in control, and I never looked back. To this day, I never asked Josh where he got that gun from. It never once came up.

I stared at Josh across the lounge room that he was busy tidying up. He turned his head briefly and smiled at me, the same smile he gave me the first day I met him. I hadn’t thought about that day in a long time.

When I was sent to Dalgetty Private School in New York, it was after a much publicized court case, detailing the horrific deaths of some of the city’s biggest organized crime leaders and their links with crooked politicians. My father being the one who orchestrated the whole thing.

In the end, there was not enough evidence to put my father away, although it was highly suspected that his influence travelled up and through the jury members, lawyers, and even the judge. 

Pictures of my father, his associates and family, me included, were splashed in news reports and articles during the media frenzy surrounding the court case.

Even in a place like Dalgetty, where rich kids were not the least bit phased by celebrity and scandal, they shied away from me. It didn’t upset me though; I was more than capable handling schooling on my own. I wasn’t a girl who became a weeping mess or fell to pieces at the very hint of drama, but those first few days walking the school halls were hard, even for a thirteen year old who could hold her own. The media had really played up the gruesome details and strength of my father’s organization and we were all perceived as real genuine terrors. I hated to think how my father got me enrolled in such a prestigious school in the first place.

The snotty girls at Dalgetty didn’t snicker; they dared not upset me. They just turned and whispered when I approached, not making eye contact at all. The boys would smile or stare at me curiously, but like the girls, they kept their distance. It wasn’t until my third day at school when Josh Hollows approached me.

I was sitting on the top of the stairs in a long stretch of hallway, frantically going through my oversized book bag, tossing books out and huffing as I did. My head was down and my long black hair had fallen all around my face, hiding me like a curtain.

“Find what you are looking for?” I was so shocked by the question, which appeared out of nowhere, that I lifted my head and shook my face so I could emerge from my hair blanket and take in the amused voice. 

Green eyes, sandy brown hair, and a sweet boyish grin were staring back at me. I stared up at him, already suspicious as to why he suddenly decided to come up and talk to me when the entire school couldn’t even be in the same breathing space. I watched his face as he looked at mine and I noticed immediately his breath hitching up in his mouth.

“What? What are you staring at?” His eyes had turned all doe-eyed and I couldn’t help but soften just from their innocence.

“You have the face of an angel,” the boy said it as if he was in a trance. I swept my hair back, put my hand back down into my book bag and then began punching it a few times in frustration.

“But clearly you don’t have the temperament of one,” he said matter-of-factly.

I glared at him.“You still standing there? What do you want? I’m not going to answer any questions about my father if you’ve come to ask, and if you have, you must be really fucking stupid.” I continued to wail into the leather, trying to ignore his presence that towered above me.

“A mouth like yours shouldn’t be saying such ugly words you know.”

The boy leaned up against the wall near the stairs, waiting for me to compose myself. He stared down at me again with that boyish grin and his green eyes flickered in amusement. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Look I’m sorry. You are just being nice and I’m being a bitch. I can’t find my math textbook and I really don’t want to have to ask to share in class. I can’t bare another freak out from someone because they think I’m going to pull a gun on them or something.” He moved off the wall and towards me, and then bent down to a leather-style knapsack on the floor. I hadn’t even noticed he had it until that moment.

“Here take mine, I don’t have that class till after lunch,” he said, reaching in and drawing out the thick brick-like textbook. I melted immediately at his gesture and dragged my body off the floor so I could stand face to face to him and take hold of the book. “I… ah… oh… ummm… ah, thanks, ah…” I stammered with my words.

“Josh, my name is Josh.” I smiled back at him for the first time.

This made his grin even bigger, “And you are Le,”

“I prefer Norah please.” Our fingers touched momentarily as I took the book from his hand, and I felt oddly calm. I trusted this boy already.

“Norah it is then.” There was a comfortable silence that passed between us before I spoke up.

“So what makes you different from everyone else? Why aren’t you scared to talk to me?” I studied his face for a reaction.

“I just had to talk to you,” he stated.

“And why is that, Josh?”

“Don’t get me wrong;
all
the boys here in school want to talk to you Norah…” He trailed off, “Even though you’re a little, controversial.” I leaned my hip against the wall listening to his words, “And you really are forgetful with your books.” My head twitched at that last part and I gave him an odd look.

“Huh, what do you mean?” He reached down into his knapsack again and pulled out my sketchbook, my private drawing sketchbook. I snatched it from his grasp the moment I recognized it.

“Where did you get this? I’ve been looking,”

“You left it in the cafeteria yesterday just after lunch. I was watching you and when you took off, I saw it had fallen off the table you were sitting at. You mustn’t have realized. By the time I went over and picked it up, you were gone. This is the first chance I’ve had to return it to you.”

I kept the pad plastered to my chest as I studied him. “You were watching me?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, it’s kind of hard not to watch you. You’re so…” and he trailed off again.

Still grasping my sketchbook, knowing what was in it, I met his gaze again, “Did you, I mean, look inside?”

“Yes,” he breathed heavily. “Your drawings are intense. You are really talented. I stared at it for hours.” 

I swallowed. I had never shown anyone my sketches, and now by accident, this boy had seen into my soul.

“That woman you draw… is that uh, your… ummm…”

“It’s my mother, yes. But I’ve only ever seen photos of her so it’s more my interpretation as well.”

“She looks like you.”

I looked away, completely taken back. This conversation was a lot more personal than any conversation I had had to date, yet I didn’t want to pull away from having it. There was something about him that I was drawn to and I didn’t want to hide from him.

“Anyway, I’m uhhh sorry I didn’t return it sooner. It was kind of hard to let go of.” His eyes darted, his face went red, embarrassed. “I don’t know why I just said that,” he stuttered and I smiled at his awkwardness. “I just wanted to get to know that girl with that sketchbook. She seems really amazing.”

I felt touched. This boy had seen the real me and in that moment, all I wanted to do was step forward and kiss him. Yes, when I first met Josh Hollows I wanted to kiss him, but I knew I could not subject him to the scrutiny with my father that would follow.

“I’m not allowed to have boyfriends Josh.” His dreamy green eyes expanded a little as I used the word ‘boyfriend’.

Did I just make a haste assumption?

“Then I’ll just have to settle for friends then,” he declared and held out his hand for an official handshake. I did love his approach, his compromise, his confidence. How could I say no? I didn’t of course. I shook his hand and punched his shoulder playfully. After that day we became inseparable. We just clicked, bonded, saw eye to eye. It worked. Our friendship was easy because we complemented each other.