A/N: Thanks for reviews, they keep me going.

Disclaimer: See chapter one.


Secrets

Chapter Two: I Lied

...

I run my hand along the lines

Fresh

New

These words come to mind.

I run my hand along the evidence.

Dangerous.

Scary.

These words come to mind.

Though I could care less.

"Lilly, what the hell happened last night?" Oliver asks as we walk along the stained snow.

"I-I don't know." I honestly don't.

"I mean, one minute you're fine, and then next, you're running out of the party like a psychopath!"

"Well, sorry! You just—you lied to me, Oliver."

A puzzled expression makes its way onto his face. "About what?"

"You said there wasn't any alcohol. There was." I shiver.

"There was?"

"Yes! Everywhere I looked, more and more of it!" I raise my voice.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. You know how everyone is. It's not a party unless there's drinking and stuff." He shrugs. I don't get Oliver sometimes, he knows about my family, but he...he just doesn't understand.

"Yes, but you lied to me," I huff.

"Well, what do you want me to say, Lilly?"

"I-I just don't know. It was so...scary, there. I barely made it out." I bite my lip. Oliver takes a long look at me, his eyes burying deep into my skin. I feel self conscious under his stare. He studies me, but I'm not an open book; you can't read me, Oliver.

"Lilly," he lowers his voice. "I know we're not all that close, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"I know. I know," I say.

I lied.

"...And that's how you know if you're pregnant," Mr. Frost says. My God, does this class have a scope of subjects. I can't help but chuckle about it. One day, human body, the next, pregnancy. Ah, high school education.

I sit in the chair close to the desk. Or rather, I try to sleep, slightly on the desk. And most of the class express the same defeated looks on their faces. The looks of pure boredom and I know they're all thinking the same thing. Something along the lines of 'This. Is. Boring.' Or maybe something to do with weed.

It's probably the weed one.

"Any questions?" Mr. Frost asks, sighing.

A hand flies up, and I can feel time ticking slower and slower. Well, lookie' here, it's Marissa Williams. She's like Oliver, except you know, she's got girl parts, n'stuff.

"Yes, Marissa?" He points to her.

"Yes, Mr. Frost. So when..." By this word, I've blocked out her voice. It's squeaky, and it's annoying. Oliver's voice isn't annoying, it's actually a bit soothing.

Slightly.

"Well to answer your question, Marissa.." Whoops, I've blocked him out, too. You know, it seems like I'd fail this class, and every other class, too. I've practically replaced all the teachers' voices with something resembling a barking dog.

I could've chosen a better sound, truthfully.

A loud clanking illuminates the room, and I know it's the bell. Sweet, I can leave now. I grab my bag and start to walk towards the exit—not forgetting to push in my chair, I hate when people don't. Almost there, Lilly. So close!

"Lilly," Mr. Frost calls from his desk.

Damn.

I scuttle over to his desk, it's covered in papers. "Yeah?"

"I'd like to have a word with you." He pauses and glances around the room, it's empty. "...about your parents." I cringe—deeply. What right does he have to ask about my disgusting home life?

"Uh..." I shift awkwardly.

"Is everything all right with them?"

"Y-yeah? Why do you ask?" He so knows. How does everyone know? Seriously.

Mr. Frost says nothing, and just looks down at crumpled papers. "Just wondering. You know, I'm here if you want to talk." Why does everyone keep saying that?

I nod and pull up my sleeve, scratching the uncut skin. He glances down, and his eyes widen. His cheeks lightly tint red.

Oh shit.

He saw.

I practically throw my sleeve down. "W-well I'm just gonna go now, Mr. Frost," I mumble quickly and slightly jog out of the room.

"Wait!" I hear him call.

Tsk, I'll have to deal with him eventually.

And it's not going to be pretty.

I sit alone, a very empty metal table accompanies me—I guess. I lay my head low, and eat my crap sandwich. Eh, it's not that bad, though it could use a little more mayo. I flop the meat and bread onto the plastic bag, aka, ocean clogger.

I close my eyes and in vision somewhere sunny. It wouldn't be super cold like it is here in Oregon. Why does it have to get so damn cold? There's sun—sometimes, and hey, it's a clear sky today. How rare. I look up into the blue and marvel at how seemingly perfect it is. Okay, enough of that, and I stare back onto the cold bench.

A shadow obstructs the sun beating on me and my first instinct is to turn around to see who's blocking my source of warmth. It's a person. I scan up their body—it's a girl. This girl is skinny. My eyes make their way up to the girl's face.

This girl is pretty.

"Um. Could I..." she drifts off. Hmm...she's shy. "Could I sit here?"

I nod, wordlessly. And she carefully sits across the table. She's biting her lip, why?

"You look timid," I say flat out, and her face crinkles.

"I-I guess I am."

"You're new," I say once again.

"Y-yeah." This stuttering thing of hers needs to stop.

"What's your name?"

"M-Miley," she murmurs. I have the slight temptation to say 'what?' even though I hear her just fine.

"Nice. Well, I'm Lilly. And I would offer you my hand, but you're kind of across the table." I smirk. We're so opposites.

And yet one thing becomes apparent to me.

We'll get along just dandy.