Tell Me Lies

by Carola Lovering

Some girls play it safe and look for uncomplicated, but uncomplicated can be a death sentence—I

I swore that I’d never date anyone again unless I had that feeling—the feeling that everything had been flipped inside me, for the better.

people who thinks carefully about what she’s going to say before she says it, so she always says the right thing.

Georgia was a serial dater—her boyfriends were all serious, slightly boring intellectuals, and one always came right after the next.

“Political science. Economics minor.” “You want to be a lawyer?”

I leaned in and kissed her, midsentence. Not enough guys take advantage of the midsentence kiss. Girls go crazy for it—romantic in any and all scenarios.

Most boys, when they interact with you, seem sort of distracted or like they don’t fully care about what you’re saying.

He didn’t look past me to the dozens of other things going on in his life. He listened, really listened, and I could see that it made him genuinely happy.

adoration stage never lasts long.

people fail to understand is that love is a choice. If you assess the worth of your relationship solely in terms of your feelings it is likely to fail, or at least be extremely short-term. You

I was good at being charming, and it felt a hell of a lot more valid than being nice to look at.

The accident.

August 16, 2008,

There’s something about Lucy. I’m going to keep fucking her for as long as possible. Which, with the correct approach, could be a very long time.

“She knows that you slept with Nicole Hart on Sunday, right after she left your room.

You must have so many STDs.”

She always liked to have sex in the morning, which was absolutely fine by me.

We did a couple of lines and banged at the end of the bed,

same place we did it on Friday afternoon. Luckily,

He flipped me over onto my hands and knees and fucked me from behind so hard I thought I might black out.

He grabbed my hair with his fists and yanked it fiercely, and I felt that it was more than just the sex but that he was severely, wildly angry, at me or at something, and even though my hair felt like it was going to rip out of my head I didn’t say anything because a part of me liked it—the part of me that was just as angry as he was really fucking liked it. Afterward I lay on my stomach, my heart racing as he wiped the cum off my back with a paper towel.

why would anyone in his or her right mind ever die for someone else? I would no more die for a girlfriend than sleep with the divorced grandma to my left.

cynicism,

emulate

You’re so beautiful, Lucy. Fuck. I can’t wait to take you out on the boat this summer. You’re gonna love it. I’m gonna go mingle. I’ll find you soon.

Gabe’s hands holding CJ’s hips.

He leaned over and kissed me, his mouth opening slowly against mine, his tongue sluggishly sliding in. I waited for him to throw me down on the bed with his lacrosse biceps and really make out with me, but the kiss remained vertical, gentle, dispassionate.

When he placed his hand inside my underwear I wasn’t turned on and he didn’t know what he was doing and all I could

“Kiss me harder,” I said finally, after it felt like he’d been kissing me at the speed of a turtle for about an hour.

“I just feel like you’re kissing me really softly.”

People always talk about realizing they’re in love during the happy moments, but I think you realize it in the bad ones.

My “misdemeanor” was the DUI I received six weeks before the accident. What can I say? It was an unlucky summer for driving.

Lydia

“Lucy.” Stephen took my hand in his. “I really liked you. Remember how many times I asked you out when I first met you?”

Stephen took my chin in his hand and turned it to face him. My spine went to hot glue. “Lucy.” His mouth was centimeters from my face. “I miss you, and I really fucking mean that.

sweltering

I had been a drunk psycho the night I made out with Billy—definitely drunker than he’d been.

to Lydia, my oldest friend, my other sister, and I had been hungry for so long that

Officer Gonzalez and the DUI still had me fucked, because the Ivy Leagues had proven out of the question.

We walked in the door and I barely said a word before I peeled off her clothes, threw her down on my bed, and fucked her hard from behind. I’d been waiting to do it all night.

I’d nodded, figuring I’d gotten it from CJ’s side of the family. CJ’s mother is a complete nutcase, always miserable and complaining about everything and yelling at my grandfather even though he’s 80 percent deaf.

combine the Prozac with regular therapy, though,” Dr. Wattenbarger said. “While depression is rooted in a chemical imbalance, there are external factors that can facilitate the condition.”

He’s easy to talk to. He always knows what to say. He can have a conversation with anybody. He’s funny. I’m always laughing when I’m with him. Genuinely laughing, not pretending. He’s smart. He knows exactly what he wants, and he goes for it. And he gets me. He gets parts of me that other people don’t. He can make me feel so good about myself, better than I’ve ever felt about myself, like a million bucks. He’s different, but good different. And there’s this thing between us, it’s like chemistry but more tangible. I’ve never met anybody who makes me feel that. Not even close.”

SOCIOPATH—A person with antisocial personality disorder, the most widely recognized personality disorder. Antisocial personality disorder is a chronic mental condition in which a person’s way of thinking, perceiving situations, and relating to others are dysfunctional and destructive. People with the disorder typically have no regard for right and wrong and often disregard the rights, wishes, and feelings of others. A sociopath is often well-liked because of his or her charm and high charisma, but he or she does not usually care about other people. Though some sociopaths become murderers, most reveal their sociopathy through less extreme means.*

NARCISSIST—A person with narcissistic personality disorder, a mental disorder in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance, a deep need for admiration, and a lack of empathy for others. Behind

this mask of ultraconfidence lies a fragile self-esteem that’s vulnerable to the slightest criticism. It is estimated that this condition affects 1 percent of the population, with rates greater for men.

“A lot of people cheat and lie, though,” I’d proposed to Dr. Wattenbarger during a late...

Someone who causes harm to others without guilt—that’s a sociopath in action.”

I hadn’t answered. I’d wanted to, a million times, desperately, but I fought against it. I didn’t let myself stop hearing Dr. Wattenbarger’s calm, knowing voice: People like Stephen, they don’t change. He will always come back for more. He won’t give it up until he has to.

“Can I watch you get dressed?” He grinned. I wanted to punch him for the sleazy comment at the same time that I felt a familiar stitch of affection for him, for his uncompromising commitment to our chemistry. The lust pulled from deep below.