What A Lie Looks Like | ✓

1.06: sephine

I wipe the sheen layer of sweat that covers my face with a towel before taking a swig of my water. "Should we keep going?" I ask, gathering my hair into a high ponytail in a failed effort to keep it off my neck, but it's long enough that it still tickles the middle of my back. We'd been practicing long enough that I'd shed my shirt a long time ago, and I'm just in spandex and a sports bra.

Carter leans against the wall, "We can if you want to, but I'm not sure if I could do another lift right now."

"Why don't we stop for tonight then, we can meet here before school tomorrow morning to work more on getting the lift down? Probably around five thirty?"

He groans and knocks his head against the wall, "Do we have to be here that early?"

I resist the urge to snap at him, "Do you want to place or not?"

Carter doesn't bother trying to hide his annoyance with me as he lifts his bag up quickly onto his shoulder, "Whatever, I'll be here, but don't expect me to be completely awake."

My temper gets the better of me when I flip him off behind his back after he walks out the door, but it makes me feel slightly better. Going from Ollie to Carter might have been the hardest part about leaving, but I can't do anything about it now.

Changing the song from our duet to my solo, I let the quiet reverberations echo through the studio. I couldn't remember how I found the song, but I knew that it was the perfect way to represent how I'd been feeling since leaving. Ms. Peterson didn't question the choice, How Do You Say Goodbye by Phillip Larue, but agreed that if I added the right mix of ballet into the routine, it would be perfect.

I let the opening lyrics wash over me, and I begin to let go of everything to truly feel the music. I feel the suppressed emotions, pain, sorrow, but also hope. Hope is more dangerous because it holds power to crush me down into someone I don't recognize, but it also holds the thought that maybe everything will be okay.

I lose track of how many times I go through the routine, but it's the first time in days that my head feels completely clear. Instead of getting up to begin the routine again, I take a moment to catch my breath. I know the routine forwards and backward, but it's not perfect yet. Anything less than perfect would only hurt me in the long run, even if I place.

I tuck the little wispy pieces of hair that have fallen from my ponytail behind my ears, and I enjoy just sitting on the hardwood floor, letting the ballad surround me. Mostly because I'm too lazy to get up and pause the music, and I lay back closing my eyes. I can be myself in here.

I haven't been able to get Hayes's proposition out of my head. I feel bad for not even hearing him out, especially when I didn't really give him a real answer. He's not all bad. The only thing that concerns me is how easy it is for me to fall into old patterns around him.

"Care for some company?" Someone voices loud enough over the music, and I open my eyes, lifting my head to see Hayes standing there.

Speak of the devil.

"What time is it?" I ask, not really answering his question.

He lowers himself to the floor next to me and pulls out his phone. "Almost ten."

"What are you doing here then? Cam said you guys didn't have practice."

"Didn't feel like going home to an empty house," Hayes answers honestly, "I stayed to run with cross country before settling down in the library to try and do homework, but I really ended up just taking a nap. Librarian woke me up ten minutes ago. I took a chance in thinking that you'd still be here, and I guess I was right."

"I didn't realize it had gotten so late. No wonder Carter was complaining about getting here early." I muse out loud, and Hayes chuckles.

"So, he made it out alive?"

I scoff, "Barely, I don't think even Cam has complained that much on one of Liv's shopping trips."

I look over at Hayes, and his dark hair is in a disorderly manner proving his story about napping to be true. He appears deep in thought before his gaze turns to look down at me where I lay on the floor.

"What are you so afraid of?" He asks quietly, and my stomach drops.

"I-I'm not." I stutter out, and Hayes gives me a flat look.

"You're a terrible liar."

I take a deep breath looking at the ceiling, "Yeah, I always have been."

"Cam and Liv wouldn't tell me why you got so upset when you started opening up about your past. My guess is because they don't know anything, so therefore they had nothing to tell me." My silence confirms it because I know that if I try denying it, then he'll just call me out on it. "I just don't understand what you have to be afraid of."

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," I warn, and he shakes his head. "I'm not afraid, I just don't feel like having my past catch up with me. Just let it go. Please," I feel just as small now as I did back in Seattle except this time I'm almost three thousand miles away. I sit up next to him, and the little wisps of hair that I had tucked behind my ear fall around my face.

"Okay."

"So you and Tessa?"

There's a short, harsh laugh, "Not anymore. That was a lifetime ago."

"Understandable, she's kind of a..." I trail off not really sure how I want to word this sentence.

"A horrible person?" Hayes fills in for me, and I laugh lightly.

"You said it nicer than I was going to. Whatever happened between you guys?" The million-dollar question just slips out, and I try to read his face.

His expression hardens, and his jaw clenches, "There's a reason I am the way I am; don't forget that everyone's afraid of something. You seem to know that better than anyone."

That one sentence is enough to make me feel like shit for running away from my problems. But I guess everyone deals with their issues in their own way. Hayes turned into a man-whore, and I turned into a completely different person.

I rest my hand on his and Hayes's fingers curl around mine in the form of acceptance. I guess it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one who's fucked up.