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White Lies
Chapter 1 - Mother
"No." Carol flopped back dramatically on her full-sized bed, and she covered her face with her hands.
"No?"
"No!"
"Is it that bad? I mean, m'sure you've had worse."
"Worse than this?" Carol asked, throwing her hands off of her face and sitting up to glare at the man standing at the foot of her bed. She held up her cell phone. "Nothing is worse than this."
"What about the time Michonne told you she wrecked your car. That was pretty bad news," Daryl offered, tossing Carol a granola bar.
"I'm not hungry," she protested. "I can't eat. Why are you here, anyway? Don't you have a job to be late for?" Daryl snorted at that and flopped down on the bed next to her. "Go away. I need to be mad right now. I can't be mad when you're around."
"See, I knew you loved me," Daryl teased, as Carol promptly grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the face with it. "Hey! Alright, woman. What's this bad news?"
"My mother," she groaned.
"Your…mother? You mean the sweet lady you always talk about that is more like a best friend than a mom? That mother?"
"You don't know my mother, Daryl," Carol pointed out, sitting up. Daryl shifted on the bed to sit next to her. "She's going to set me up."
"What?" Daryl asked, choking back a laugh.
"This is her new thing. Now that I'm out of college and living in the quote-unquote real world, she's decided that it's her duty as the quote-unquote cool mom to fix me up with the most eligible bachelor she can find."
"And you know this…how?"
"Because she said, and I quote, 'oh, honey, I hope you don't mind, but I've asked a friend to come along for dinner next Friday night.'" Daryl furrowed his eyes, and Carol stared at him blankly.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Because, unless she's cheating on my father, that friend's going to be a younger man. For me. Because she knows I can't stand any of her friends, because they're all gossiping harpies." Daryl snorted at that, and Carol slapped his arm. "It's not funny, Daryl! I don't need this right now."
"Alright, alright," he laughed, scooting to the edge of the bed and away from Carol's flailing arms. "Are you a hundred percent sure that's what she's gonna do?"
"Well, no," Carol pouted. "But I know my mother, Daryl."
"I can't wait to meet this woman," he laughed.
"I hate you so much right now," she groaned, moving to sit next to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and she sighed.
"Wanna screw around? Might make things better."
"Oh, shut up!" she laughed. "One of these days, I'm gonna say yes, and then what are you gonna do, Dixon?" She stood up, and Daryl grinned at her, watching the way the sass just flowed right through her when she put her hands on her hips.
"Hey, I'm game. You're single. I'm single. You're hot. I'm not bad to look at either, right?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Carol snorted this time, and she rolled her eyes.
"That ship sailed a long time ago. You know, I'm pretty sure my mom thinks you're my gay roommate, Daryl."
"You…told her I'm not though, right?" Daryl asked, cocking an eyebrow."
"Oh…it probably came up in conversation," Carol said with an innocent batting of her eyebrows.
"She knows I ain't, right?" Daryl asked, sinking back into that Southern drawl that Carol had found so hot the first time she'd talked to him. They'd met the first day of freshman orientation, and they'd been pretty much inseparable since then. She'd come from Nebraska, he'd come from Georgia, and they were two fish out of water in Los Angeles. They'd considered taking that extra step, even had a few hot and heavy make out sessions before, but life and school had had other plans for them, and the timing had never been right. So they'd just ended up as being close friends and roommates, but they both knew that when it came right down to it, they'd be there for one another no matter what.
"Oh, come on. Mom's totally cool with the gay thing."
"So am I, but I ain't gay," Daryl pointed out.
"Yeah, I kinda figured that since I saw that girl leave your room last night. What was her name?"
"Brandi," Daryl muttered. "We didn't fuck if that's what you're gettin' at. She threw up on my bed and passed out."
"Oh," Carol muttered, scrunching up her nose. "Please tell me you did your laundry separately from mine."
"Promise," Daryl replied with a chuckle. "Look, I don't see what the big deal is. Just tell your mom you don't want to be set up. Tell her you're busy with work, and you don't need any body other than Daryl to get you through those long nights."
"Shut up!" she laughed. "Look, you don't understand. By the time my mom was my age, I was four. She doesn't get that I'm not in any hurry to jump into that kind of thing. I'm happy with the way things are. I've been single for six months, and I haven't shriveled up and died yet."
"Plus, you've got what's in here to keep you company." His hand shot toward her bedside table drawer, and she slapped it away.
"You didn't."
"You left it out one day, and the drawer was open. I just put two and two together." He wiggled his eyebrows, and Carol groaned.
"I hate you. I do." With that, her phone began to buzz, and she groaned, holding it up to read the number. "Great, she's calling. It's bad enough she has to text me about it, now I have to listen to her whine."
For a moment, Daryl's smile faded, and then a grin spread over his face, and fire flashed in his eyes.
"Oh God. What?" Before she had a chance to say or do another thing, Daryl grabbed the phone from her hand and answered the call. She was struck silent, eyes wide with shock as she listened to him talk.
"Carol's phone. Oh, hi, Mrs. Mason. It's Daryl. Yeah. Uh-huh. Friday night? Oh, sure, we'll be there. Hmm? Oh, didn't Carol tell you? Yeah. Oh yeah, for six months now." Carol's jaw dropped wider, and the more he talked, the more her head began to swim. "Oh, she's in the shower. Uh-huh. Well, I dunno, you know how Carol is about her boyfriends. She just likes to keep things to herself." Carol finally swallowed back enough shock to pick her jaw up, and she glared at him. That's when he turned away. "Yes, ma'am. We'll be there. Friday night. It'll be nice to meet you, too. Yes, ma'am. I'll tell her. Uh-huh. Bye." And then he turned and tossed her the phone. She didn't move. The phone landed at her feet, and that was when Daryl's Cheshire grin faded, and he swallowed hard, bracing himself for what was coming.
"What. Did. You. Do?"