Aimee Laine - Little White Lies

“Ah, Wyatt. Join us.”

Principal Stone motioned Wyatt to the second seat, a mere inch from where she sat. In all his life, he’d never seen anyone like her. Even Julie, West’s head cheerleader and the football team’s fantasy, couldn’t touch her.

“Wyatt? This is Amiria.” Principal Stone held out his hand as Wyatt maneuvered around and lowered himself onto the molded plastic. “Amiria, this is Wyatt Moreland, our senior class president.”

She turned toward him with eyes of blazing blue. Wyatt would have sworn they held speckles like a robin’s egg. He longed for one of the ten-year-old mints in the bowl on Stone’s desk as his mouth dried out and his throat closed up on itself.

“Hello, Wyatt.” Her voice infused with the lilt of her native accent. “You can call me Mira.”

No, not gruff at all . His head lolled forward and backward once. Idiot! I should say something!

She turned back to Principal Stone when he failed to speak. This sucks . Gotta open my mouth!

“Wyatt’ll give you a tour and get you settled into your classes this afternoon, Mira.” Principal Stone folded his arms across his desk in that I’m-done-now-you-go gesture he’d perfected over Wyatt’s four years at West.

“He will-” Wyatt fumbled his words, mixing up his hand gestures until he didn’t know what he’d actually signaled. “I mean, I will. I. I will. Absolutely. Sure. Uh huh.” He nodded in her direction again. Hands tight against his thighs, he squeezed until his nonsensical ways were behind him. “Ah, so. A tour?”

She turned toward him again. Her smile grew and the corners of her eyes creased. Wyatt’s heart did one big flip flop.

I am so in love .

Charley pushed at the deep walnut door, silent on its hinges. Her heels clicked against ceramic tile as she stepped inside.

“Wet floor!” Lily’s voice struck Charley from around a corner.

She slid to a halt. Her bag slammed into her shoulder as momentum forced her forward. Hands raised for balance, she braced and took a step back onto the threshold.

She leaned in to peek around a corner she couldn’t reach. “No, it’s not!”

Her balance wavered when she stretched too far. No reason to piss off Lily. Charley snuck her way across, one toe at the corner of each square, as close to the grout as would fit her sole. Satchel dropped to the sideboard, she continued with measured precision.

Charley relaxed her gait when she stepped from tile to the soft, ivory carpet. Artwork adorned the walls, some created by her family, others purchased. She passed the maple banister, brick fireplace, Cael’s wide screen television and the man himself in full repose along the length of the sable, leather couch.

“Hey, Cael.” She received a grunt in response.

Her smile grew. He’d had a long night-an even longer week. She opted to let him recover rather than rouse him for kicks.

Three more steps and she found Lily at work, dropping orange and yellow sticks into a pot as droplets of water bounced out. Lily continued to sweep various shapes from the maple cutting board. Color by color, the rainbow of food plopped in to boil.

“What’cha makin’, Lil?”

Lily tilted her gaze up from her pot. She froze, hands midair, eyes wide, as if she’d been doused with ice water.

Charley mirrored Lily’s head tilt.

“You went gold.”

Charley shifted her head the other way, confused at Lily’s answer.

“Your hair… it’s a cross between Nicole Kidman and-” Lily scrunched her eyes. “-that actress from Titanic.” She left her pot, walked around the island and ran her hands through Charley’s curls.

“You like?” Charley kept Nicole’s pale skin but added a rose blush to her entire body. She’d added inventive ringlets with a soft bounce, too.

Lily mm’d and huh’d for a moment. “You look…” Her eyes scanned the length of Charley’s body from her mocha knee-boots to her eighties leggings and up to her paisley skirt and raspberry sweater. “You look, young. And hip. And quite hot, actually.” She added the last with wiggled eyebrows.

“That was the idea.” Charley raised and dropped her arms against her sides. “I’m supposed to be eighteen, remember?”

“But, you’re always eighteen.” Lily swung back around the island and resumed her activities.

“Yeah, but two-hundred eighteens doesn’t make me eighteen in today’s terms. It’s like inflation-you gotta upgrade and pay for it each time.” Charley chuckled.

“You know-” Lily waved the Food Network chopping knife. “I actually understood that.”

With the weapon in its rightful place, Charley considered re-asking her question, though she maneuvered herself atop a bar stool and stole a carrot beforehand.

The kitchen, while Lily’s domain, remained one of Charley’s favorite places. The bright, red, black and white design had been Lily’s doing. The youngest of the four, her wild spirit infused their home.

“So, uh, Lil?” Charley pitched her voice over Lily’s repetitive chop.

“Yeah?”

“What are you making?” Moving from the colander to the pot in a matter of seconds, Charley couldn’t tell a red pepper from a tomato as they slid in and around.

“Just a stew.” Lily continued to chop and slide.

Much like Charley, Lily had taken on a young persona. She, James and Cael all found themselves in the realm of the teenage years again-each for different reasons.

Unlike Charley, who preferred locks and softness, Lily chose a wispy, iron-flat, mid-back blonde and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt to suit her age. No one would have believed someone so young could be a master chef-completely at home in her state-of-the-art, stainless steel, double-oven, multi-sink paradise.

Charley propped her elbows on the speckled-black granite, tilted her head to peel off one contact lens; she repeated with the other. Gone were the blue and in their place, the color of her kind. She let her chin rest against clasped fingers.

She caught Lily’s quick lash raise-would have missed it if she’d blinked. The window behind Lily mirrored the ghost of movement, a shift from dark to light and light to dark again.

“Hey, James,” Charley said.

His fingers dug into her shoulders, stretched and pulled muscles she’d worked to relax. She sighed in complete and utter pleasure.

“How was the first day, Charley? Or should I say Mira?”

“Fantastic.” She closed her eyes as he continued to knead.

A little more weight into her shoulder, a whiff of his cologne, and she found James’s head just above the same spot he worked.

“And did you see him?”

“I most certainly did.”

“And?” His fingers continued their discovery into muscles across her arms and pulled her spine tight. She’d made her change earlier that morning, so he knew where she’d still be sore.

“Handsome. Strong. Kind. Conscientious. Nervous.” With each descriptor, Charley let her head shift from one side to the other. The stretch gave her a moment to consider.

“Still can’t believe you’re taking your vacation for this.” Cael’s groggy voice added to his slouched form as he shuffled into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, Cael.” James’s hands left her shoulders and sent a light punch which almost toppled the six-foot-seven Cael.

“Unh.” One hand shot out for balance. “Not mornin’.”

Charley couldn’t help the smile. “You guys truly are brothers.” The quick squeeze from above told her James heard her soft comment.

Cael stumbled his way to the fridge.

A knife-wielding Lily reappeared. “Get outta there! I’ve got dinner coming!”

Cael ignored her in favor of grapes and cheese. Mouth full and tray in hand, he turned to Charley. “You look the part, by the way.” He popped another of the green fruits.