A Fabrication of the Truth Read Free Page B

trip.”
    “Okay…,” I said again.
    “You’re being recruited.”
    “What?”
    “You’re being recruited. We have a spy mission, and you’re the perfect kid for the job.”
    I then went on a spy mission where they shuttled me off in a supersonic jet and I outwitted a villain with my wicked-good, second-grade smarts. Okay, my story wasn’t perfect, but I was only in second grade, so everybody who sat around me at lunch the next day and hung onto my every word as I told the story didn’t seem to mind. They all kind of regretted going on that field trip. I felt great.
    ***
    On the third day of being in school with Dalton Reyes, my goal was to stay as far away from him as I could, but that plan quickly went out the window as I was about to walk out the double doors at the end of the hall to leave school. I felt somebody behind me. Dalton grabbed my hand, ever so gently brushing his thumb across the back of it. My toes involuntarily curled.
    “Um, hey,” he whispered as he stepped in close to let somebody out the door, our chests close to smashing together.
    I let out a stuttered breath before I managed to say, “Dalton.” He let go of my hand as soon as he got my attention, but his touch still lingered.
    “Can we talk real quick?” His voice was so much deeper than I expected.
    “That’s probably not the best idea.”
    Somebody else pushed past, and Dalton pressed up against me, putting his hand on the wall above my shoulder and bending down to whisper in my ear.
    “You’re the only one here who knows,” he said, his warm breath on me.
    I had to get out of there before my knees buckled and I collapsed in surrender in his arms. “Outside,” I said, taking in a deep inhale. Oh god, he smelled so good – like clean laundry and some kind of minty apple.
    He nodded. “Okay.”
    We walked down the steps side by side and stopping to stand under a tree just off the sidewalk. “We have to make this quick,” I said. If people saw me with him, they’d ask too many questions – rumors would start. Things would start to get dug up.
    “Were you warned not to talk to me? Is that it?” he asked.
    “Amongst other things.”
    “Are you mad at me?”
    “No. God, no. Why would you say that?”
    He shrugged. “I never talked to you again after that day.”
    “Understandable. I figured you hated me, so I’m quite surprised you’re standing here talking to me now.”
    “I would never hate you. You had nothing to do with what happened.”
    “I know, but…,” I looked down at the ground.
    He placed a finger under my chin and lifted it back up, so we looked eye to eye. His eyes were such a beautiful dark brown. “Nothing to do with it.”
    “I’m sorry, Dalton, but this can’t happen. I can’t talk to you.”
    “I just wanted to know how you were doing. That’s all.”
    “I’m fine, okay?”
    He nodded and looked a little wounded. “See you around then.”
    “Yeah, see you.”
    Dalton walked away with his shoulders drooping, looking at the ground. I leaned back against the tree and closed my eyes. Staying away would be hard.
     

Chapter Four
    The next day at school, Dalton gave me a half-crooked smile. I flashed him one back and continued to look forward down the hall. I couldn’t completely ignore him. He wanted to know how I was doing, so then if I smiled, he’d see I was doing okay. I didn’t have to strike up a friendship with him; we were both moving on, living our lives, and that seemed enough. But then, was I? I lived a life I’d forged since after my mom left – one that got even more elaborate after one moment, in particular, from my first-grade days. My dad took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye, saying, “Don’t tell people what I do for work.” We stood in the middle of the living room, and just past my dad, some guy who worked for him tucked a gun into the back of his pants. I wasn’t fazed by the fact that he had a gun. I wondered why he couldn’t just put it in his