Liar, Liar (The Best Friends Forever Series #1) Read online

  The Best Friends Forever Series #1 Liar, Liar

  2013 © Dawn Pendleton

  http://www.dawnpendleton.com Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-4675-8486-9 Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  More from Dawn Pendleton About Dawn

  Hazel

  Chapter One

  My first day of college. Dad drops me off in a rush, barely taking any time at all to examine my drab dorm room, or notice the fact that I’m on a co-ed floor with shared bathrooms (seriously, I will never go pee in there). He hefts my carefully packed boxes and then dumps them unceremoniously on the carpeted floor of my room. Luckily for me, my roommate hasn’t shown up yet, so I am saved from having to explain anything about my disinterested father to her.

  Cheyanne and I met on Facebook over the summer, and she was hardly the type of person I wanted to hang out with. She’s a transferring sophomore, where I’m a measly freshman, but that’s not all. She’s gorgeous. And I don’t mean she’s pretty, I mean she could totally walk the red carpet in Hollywood and fit in with movie stars. And me… Well, I’m pretty plain. Not that I mind. I’ve found ways to make myself stand out, like thick black makeup and dying my hair the darkest shade of black I can find in a bottle. But she seemed like a better fit as my roommate than some of the other girls I’d chatted with over the summer.

  With a deep breath, I begin to unpack my clothes, tucking the short jean skirts and black tank tops into a drawer on the left side of the room. Cheyanne had mentioned she didn’t care which side she was on, so I picked the side with a window. Nothing better than a fresh fall breeze in Myrtle Beach. Once my extra-large duffel bag was empty, I go to my backpack to unload my new laptop and printer.

  There was a printer in the student lounge, but I doubt I will spend much time working there. I prefer to be alone most of the time, instead of being social. I assume I’ll make friends, of course, but it’s doubtful I’ll really let anyone get to know the real me. Which is fine. My past is hardly one I’m anxious to dish about.

  Mom gave up on our little family six years ago, when I was twelve. It was my twelfth birthday, actually. I came downstairs from my room expecting a birthday cake and presents, and she and Dad just stood there, staring at me. Mom finally broke down and said she was leaving us. And that’s what she did. She left him, left me, left us both behind. I harbored a whole lot of anger toward her for it, but I moved on. Sort of.

  I dream of the day I’m some successful exec (I’m majoring in business), and I call her up and play that Kelly Pickler song about her stupid mom to the woman who walked out on me. It’s a pipedream, but I’d still love to do it. Her absenteeism has made me this hard, bitter, completely socially inept girl.

  I barely manage to pull myself out my own selfish thoughts as my roommate enters our room. Cheyanne’s a redhead, but not like that orange red that looks really unnatural. Her hair is vibrant red, shiny and full of volume. Her blue eyes scream for attention, even though she’s a little stand-offish.

  “Hazel! It’s so great to finally meet you,” she exclaims as she pulls me into a hug. I am not a hugger, so I stand there, lifeless, with what I’m sure is a comical expression on my face.

  “Yeah…” I say lamely. She has way more energy and vibrance than I’m used to.

  I can’t remember the last time my voice reached a decibel as high as hers. She finally releases me after what seems like hours, and I back up, afraid she’ll want to hug me again. Behind her, people wait anxiously to enter our room.

  An older man, probably her father, stands next to a woman who looks exactly like Cheyanne, except older, and peering into the room is her younger brother. I know who they are only because Cheyanne is a wanna-be photographer and posts millions of pictures on Facebook every week of her family. Her dad raises a brow at me but extends his hand as Cheyanne steps out of his way.

  “You must be Hazel. Cheyanne has been so excited to meet you these last few weeks. I’m her dad, Pete. This is my wife, Ellen, and our younger son, Zachary. He’ll be attending next year,” Pete adds, gesturing at the kid with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes identical to Cheyanne’s. He’s actually kind of hot, for being a year younger than me.

  “Okay, Zach, let’s go get the rest of the boxes,” Pete directs, and the two slip out of the room, leaving me alone with Red and her mom.

  “I took this side, I hope you don’t mind,” I say, but really, it doesn’t matter if she does mind. I’m not moving.

  “Oh yeah, I don’t even care,” she mumbles as she searches through one of her bags. “Mom, have you seen my cell?”

  Having been thoroughly dismissed, I slip out of the room and meander down the halls. We’ve been put in a co-ed dorm, and I cannot wait to walk in on something. I don’t know what it is, but I have a tendency to find gossip. I even started an anonymous column with my high school newspaper that dished out the details of my classmates. No one ever figured out it was me, either.

  Down the hall, I make a left and run smack dab into a tall guy who mutters, “Shit!”

  “Watch where you’re going,” I admonish with a snarl. And then I look up into those baby blues and my heart pounds like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He’s the epitome of perfection, with short-cropped light brown hair and those eyes – they’re amazing, drawing me in until I feel like I’m drowning in their depths.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.

  “Yeah, I’m great.” I struggle to regain my composure, but I am just so lost. “I’m Hazel.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hazel. Roman,” he says, shaking my hand.

  Even his name is hot. I know, in those few seconds, that he and I are meant to be, and I vow to have him before the winter break.

  “Are you on this floor?”

  “yes, actually, but my girlfriend is, too,” he says with a smile.

  My hopes are dashed. I want him all to myself and he’s taken. Of course he’s taken. I mean, look at him! But, this is the first week of college and everything can change.

  “Maybe I can put you in the right direction… What room is she in?” I don’t even know my way around, and there’s no way I could help him find her, but knowing is a good reference point to kill their relationship.

  “Room two-twelve. Her name is Cheyanne,” he tells me and my heart drops to the floor.

  Despite the fact that my roommate is dating the hottest guy on campus, and I want that guy, I manage to direct him to my room, explaining that I’m Cheyanne’s roommate. He looks me up and down and mumbles something along the lines of… It’s going to be a good year… What does that even mean? Gah, I hate myself for thinking about Roman. I just want to forget him, as much as I can. Yeah, right, like that’ll happen.

  Chapter Two

  I don’t go back to my room. There’s no way I can tolerate Roman showing his love for Cheyanne. Instead, I go to the first floor and get a drink out of the vending machine. Just as I
twist the top off, someone approaches the machine next to me. I glance at the figure through my peripheral, and it’s a guy. A very tall, very attractive guy.

  Talk about boy overload…

  “Hey, I’m Audric,” he says to me, extending his hand. I shake it with a nod, admiring him. He’s a little on the skinny, lanky side, but he’s got muscle definition too, which makes him

  yummy. His dark, shaggy hair is exactly the kind I’d like to run my fingers through. He towers over me, but I’m not afraid or worried. He’s got such a sweet face with clear, green eyes that look haunted.

  “I’m Hazel,” I manage, my voice barely audible.

  “I love that name,” he replies, giving me a huge smile.

  Is he into me? “Well, I just needed a drink, so I guess I’ll get back to my room.” I don’t

  really know what else to say; I’m so awkward.

  “Can I walk you back?”

  He’s so cute! I nod and we ascend the stairs to my floor. Just before we get to my room, we

  hear harsh whispers, so we stop to listen outside my room. The door is cracked open, and I peek inside to see Cheyanne and Roman arguing. My heart surges. “We agreed to take opposite weekends, Roman. If you can’t deal with it, then you probably shouldn’t have done the deed,” Cheyanne scolds him.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just have a busy schedule. The football coach isn’t exactly going to understand if I’m not at games every other week. My parents have agreed to take him on my weekends, and I’ll go home on Sundays. That’s good enough.”

  “No, it’s not. I am not going to be the only one sacrificing for Deacon. You are going to have to learn that getting your high school girlfriend pregnant is something you have to deal with for the rest of your life.”

  I turn to Audric and his emerald eyes are wide in disbelief. I hold up a single finger to my lips to silence him when he opens his mouth.

  We continue to listen.

  “Oh right, blame your teenage pregnancy on me, the guy who asked if you were on birth control. The guy you lied to when you said yes. You just wanted to trap me into this fake little family, like we had any kind of future together at all. We were doomed before we even began, Chey. So please stop blaming me.” Roman’s voice is pleading and my heart breaks for him.

  “Just get out,” Cheyanne replies. “I want to move on.”

  “Whatever.” Roman shakes his head and turns to the door, ready to make his exit. Just as he reaches for the doorknob, he looks back at Cheyanne. “My parents will take Deacon on my weekends and if that’s not okay with you, we can go to court,” he threatens.

  Cheyanne doesn’t reply, and Roman pulls the door open. Fearful that we’ll be accused of eavesdropping, which is exactly what we’re doing, I pull Audric toward me and force his head to me, his lips connecting with mine. I see the surprise in his eyes but he doesn’t fight me. I twine my hands up his neck and into his hair, thoroughly enjoying my first day of college. When his tongue dances on my lips, I pull back to look down the hallway.

  It’s empty. “That was close,” I say, trying to appear unaffected by Audric’s talented mouth. He’s breathing hard when he nods.

  “Roman is my roommate, so I guess I ought to go make sure everything is okay,” he whispers.

  My plan to seduce Roman just got a bit more complicated. I watch him walk away and then enter my dorm room. Cheyanne is forcefully putting her clothes in her dresser.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah, everything is just fine. Nothing like running into an ex on your first day,” she mutters.

  “Oh, so you and Roman aren’t dating?”

  She whirls around to face me. “You know Roman?”

  “Well, not really. We met in the hallway and he said you two were dating. I showed him where our room was.”

  She sighs. “He’s been wanting to get back together for a while now, but it’s just not going to work out for us. We’re too different.”

  I nod in understanding, but inside, I’m shouting. He’s single!

  “Who’s Deacon?” I ask before I think better of it.

  “Oh, you heard us?”

  “You were kind of loud,” I say, implying that I hadn’t been eavesdropping.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Deacon is my son. He’s three. But please, please don’t say anything. I just want to get through this first semester without a bunch of gossip running rampant about me.”

  “Of course,” I agree, though I have no intentions of keeping that promise. As soon as it works in my favor, I’ll tell whoever I can about little Deacon. I smile at her, like we’re the best of friends.

  “Thanks. High school was enough of a nightmare as a teen mom,” she says and I feel a little bit guilty, but I tell myself I won’t use her son against her unless I absolutely have to.

  “We’re back with boxes!” Cheyanne’s dad, Pete, announces as he barges into the room. He and Zach are carrying two boxes each and I wonder how much shit she’s brought with her.

  “Where’s your mom?” I ask Cheyanne.

  “She went to the admissions office to work a few financial aid things out. She should be back in a few.”

  I engage Pete in a conversation about the college and we discuss the ins and outs of freshman year until Ellen returns with paperwork for Cheyanne.

  “Everything’s all set, Chey. And we have to get going. I only hired a sitter for two hours,” she says.

  “Of course. I’ll be home next Sunday,” Cheyanne says as she hugs her parents. She gives her brother a punch in the shoulder and within seconds, Cheyanne and I are alone once again.

  “I was thinking of going to the lounge to grab some food. You want to come?” I ask with a glance at my watch. It’s almost dinnertime.

  “Sure.”

  We walk down the stairs and run into Audric on the first floor.

  “Hey, Audric! This is my roommate, Cheyanne,” I introduce them.

  Audric knows exactly who she is, but he plays along. “It’s nice to meet you, Cheyanne. Where are you two off to already?”

  “The lounge for dinner. Or maybe just a snack. Who knows?” I answer.

  “Stay away from the pizza, it’ll make you sick for a week. But almost everything else is pretty good. What are your plans after dinner? My roommate and I were invited to a party, so long as we bring along a few girls.” Audric smiles and winks at us.

  “I’m not sure,” Cheyanne starts.

  “We’ll be there. Text me the address,” I interrupt and Audric hands over his phone so I can plug my number in it. “It’ll be good for you,” I whisper to Cheyanne.

  I don’t actually care whether or not my roommate goes to the party, but I know how college parties work – bringing one girl is hardly enough. Plus, partying in pairs is much safer.

  “Great,” Audric says when I hand his phone back. “I’ll text you in a bit.”

  He walks away and I can’t help but notice how good his ass looks in jeans. Cheyanne pulls me back to reality when she tugs on my arm.

  “Are you really going to go to a party?”

  “Seriously? I’ve been going to college parties for years,” I boast.

  “Years?”

  “Yeah. I grew up in Atlanta and had a lot of older friends who went to Georgia State. So I got invitations all the time.”

  “Oh,” she says and then we lapse into silence as we continue to walk to the lounge.

  I wonder how on Earth I’m going to be able to tolerate her for the year…

  Chapter Three

  Dinner is more junk food than health food, but we manage to stay away from the pizza, which actually looks appetizing, despite Audric’s warning. I scarf down a chicken patty and French fries while Cheyanne opts for a cheeseburger. It’s not too bad, either.

  The freshmen fifteen are well on their way to my hips by the time we make it back to our dorm room. I collapse on my bed, feeling fuller than I have all summer. Of course, I’ve been dieting like crazy for the
last three months to be in the best shape of my life for my first year of college. Even if I do gain the freshmen fifteen, I will still weigh less than I did when I graduated high school.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I open up a message from an unknown number.

  Hey, it’s Audric. Party is at Atlantic Beach, at the end of 29th Avenue S. Be there at 8. “Got the party details,” I say to Cheyanne, shaking my phone at her.

  She smiles. “Where at?”

  “Atlantic Beach. I’ve never heard of it,” I tell her.

  “It’s a tiny section of Myrtle that’s mostly abandoned. I think there are a total of four houses

  that are occupied, and they’re all mellow people. It used to be a bad neighborhood, but now the only thing causing trouble are the parties college kids throw there.” Cheyanne laughs. “Guess we’ll be adding to it, tonight.”

  “Guess so,” I agree with a forced smile. I lift my phone to type a reply to Audric.

  Does Cheyanne have to come? She’s already annoying me. I press send and wait impatiently while Cheyanne rambles on about what she’s going to wear. It takes all my willpower not to roll my eyes as she pulls out a pair of faded skinny jeans. My phone buzzes.

  Yeah, you have to bring C. Roman wants to talk to her, I guess. Invest in earplugs ;) I laugh out loud and Cheyanne looks at me questioningly. “Uhh, a friend from back home just texted me.”

  She seems to accept that and goes on to pick out a tank top. August in Myrtle Beach is hardly jeans weather.

  At least I’ll have someone to hang out with tonight… I reply to Audric and then set my phone down on my bed as I go to my own dresser to figure out what to wear. I’m almost positive a mini-skirt is in order. It’s perfect for the beach, and if anyone decids to go swimming, at least I’ll have less clothes to remove.

  I choose my shortest jean skirt and pair it with a faded pale black button-up tank top. I grab my favorite black bra and matching panties and then heft my shower bag over my shoulder, lifting two towels onto my arm.

  “I’m hitting the shower,” I tell Cheyanne, who is still trying to decide on a top. “Sure. I’ll be here when you get back,” she says without looking up.