Lies On The Lips

Chapter Three

Brett

"Drink drink drink drink!" The guys holar. I've had way too many as it is and I'm at that vomit faze, yet I hold back. We won the game, its a celebration, we did fucking awesome and I'm happy about that. So I came to this party and I'm pissed as hell, everything slowly spins around me, voices mingled together. I really did feel sick, I need to stop drinking before I do something utterly stupid. "C'mon Bett, drink!"

"Na, I need a breather." I pulled away from the group and dragged myself towards the stairs and flopped down, holding my head in my hands. I felt my body swaying back and forth, like being on a rough sea and the vomit started to rise.

"Brett," I heard a squeaky voice resonate in my ears and tried my hardest to look up to see who the voice belongs to. "Your so drunk," I flail my arms, I know I look like a complete fucking idiot, but that's what happens when your brain is numb from alcohol. "Let's get you upstairs," I mumbled something unintelligible and hit almost every wall on my ascent until I found myself in a bedroom. "Lay down." That was it, I had to throw up. I fell towards the bed, I think I hit my head, then there it was. Vomit, a belly full of vomit hit the floor and I fell onto the soft bed.

"F...fuck…" I groaned, holding my head.

She giggled, "You're so cute," Still I tried to see the face the voice belonged to, but my vision was shot, yet I recognized the voice. "Brett, I've always, always wanted you. But I guess settling for second best was my only choice."

"What?" Finally the voice matched the face and Ashley was staring down at me. Her blonde locks falling onto her pushed up breasts and her tight fitting black dress, was pulled up to her waist. "Let's do it."

I shoved my hand at her, missing her completely. "Stop, Ashley…"

"Oh come on," she chides as her lips brushed over my cheek. "He dumped me, now you can have me. All you do is watch me, Brett." Watch her? I don't watch her, I watch her boyfriend. How fucking simple can she be? Yet, a desire swirls in me, she's been near him, touched him, kissed those lips I only ever got to taste just once.

But she's not with him, anymore.

But those hands touching me, touched him.

When I close my eyes, with the alcohol running through my veins, I can almost see it, see him. I’m reminded of sleepovers when he and I were younger. How we’d crawl into bed and play Transformers under the sheets with just the light of a flashlight until Cope’s nanny would shut us down for the night. I can’t help but think of nights where we talked about everything in the dark. Nights where sometimes Cope would snuggle against me and whisper about how much he hated his dad. Those nights, my blood would run so hot for my best friend. I always wondered if he felt that way too. Yet he didn't, doesn't.

Blinking back those memories, I'm thrown back into the room. "No, get off!" I lifted my leg trying to jog her off me, but instead she fell towards me, her breasts squished against my face. Her perfume and skin made me feel sick all over again. But she laughs like its some kind of fucking joke. "St...stop…"

"Don't be such a dick, Brett. I'm here for you." I'd had enough now and grabbed her arms, pushing her back against the bed as I lifted myself up. But now it looked even worse, I was now between those long legs. "So the tables have turned." She sniggers.

"Don't, I'm not interested in you, Ashley," I grimaced at her and moved away from the bed, but lost my footing and fell forwards. Fuck, I'm never drinking again.

"You're so funny," she laughs, but I wasn't amused, not at all. I had to get out of this damn room, away from her and her nasty ass perfume and that irritating fucking voice. "Come ooooon, Brett, fuck me like you always wanted to."

"Fuck you? You should be so lucky," I finally pulled myself up and staggered to the door. "I've never ever wanted to fuck you, your trashy." I turn with a smile, thinking, yeah, one down. Stupid bitch, but it's short lived when the door flings open cracking me in the face and I hit the floor like a ton of bricks.

"Cope!" She shouts and my stomach Knott's. "Its...its...he tried it on with me!"

"Ahh, fuck you…" I held my nose, it was broken. Its definitely fucking broken. "Stupid…" I spat until I felt a warm hand on my face. I opened my eyes to see my devil staring back at me. "I...I didn't touch her." I stuttered.

"I know," I gulped, he smiles. "Of course I know that."

"Cope! He...he did!" I wasn't even going to try to defend my innocence. Just that one look, one smile from him and I knew he really did believe me. He knows me, despite what I had done to him two years ago. Cope knows I would never piss on what was his. Plus Ashley's most likely had more cock than I've had hot dinners. "Wait! What are you doing?" I didn't look to see what was happening, I didn't care either. I feel like a damned fool, stuck with Ashley, stuck in this awful situation. I wanted to hide, runaway. Never look back, because I'm sick of making myself look like the fucking clown.

Yet, I didn't run, I stayed on the floor, trying to get my head around what the fuck happened, while holding my busted face. My dad's going to kill me, this broken nose will look like a walk in the park after he gets his claws on me. "You alright?" Cope, Cope's voice again. His face too, his warm hands helping me to my feet, helping keep me steady. "You look like shit mate." Mate, mate, he called me mate. Did I hear wrong? Am I that pissed and imagining it? "Let's get you sorted, your nose is busted."

"It's fine, I don't need any help."

"I slammed a door on your face, you're not fine."

I sigh as we slowly leave. My arm around his neck, my face so close to him. "Honestly, it's fine."

"Well let's get you a coffee and we will see." His jaw clenches and he glowers at me.

"Why do you care?" I'm angry and happy, but I snap because I'm so damned confused.

"I don’t," he snaps. "But you’re wasted and hurt. I’m not about to leave you here to do anything else stupid. If your nose is badly busted, you’ll be out of playing any games for a while."

"It's fine," Lies. It's fucked.

"You're still so stubborn, Brett."

I whisper the words as we leave the house. "I didn't touch her."

He laughs. "I know, your gay." I snort in response and he laughs again, I'm pissed off, yet it felt good having him next to me. "Get in the car."

"Cope," I whispered. "I…." Then stopped. I wasn't sure what I could say to him to make this situation any better. I just had his girlfriend, ex girlfriend on my lap trying to get my drunk ass self to fuck her, then he walked right in as I was making an even bigger ass of myself, and broke my nose, it was throbbing like a bitch, my whole face felt like it was on fire. There was no way of looking at this situation in an even remotely good light. My dad's gonna kick my ass and I'm sitting next to the guy I've been in love with since forever.

"Just don't say anything else at the moment. We are getting coffee then we're going to the hospital."

"I'm dead anyway, so what's the point."

"Well, you gotta go, and if your dad says or does anything, you'll come stay with me, end of."

"Stay with you?" I asked turning to look at him. "After two years, you decide just like that?"

"Yep," I watched him as he watched the road. Trying to figure this out. It's confusing as hell and I started to feel sick again. "Despite everything Brett, I don't want your dad hitting you. It's not fair and Ashley is a bitch for doing that."

"Why'd you dump her?"

"Because it wasn't right," he paused briefly. "It's never been right."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter, let's get you sorted and sobered up."

"I'm already feeling sober."

He chuckled and poked my nose. I nearly screamed as tears flooded my eyes. "Yeah, it's broke man."

"Fuck!"

"Hospital first." I didn't want to argue with him. I didn't want him to get pissed off, because for two years I've watched him as my heart broke into millions of pieces and now I have him at my side, I don't want to ruin it, I need to say sorry. But he's right, I'm stubborn as hell.

"Why are we here right now? Why are you helping me?" Clenching my jaw, I look over at him. His brows are furled.

"I just am." He grunts.

"But why?"

"Maybe I’m just tired of fighting." He lets out a heavy sigh.

"I’m tired too."

"What you did…" he trailed off and he winces.

"I’m sorry," I murmured, and looked at him again. I saw pain etched in his features. "I’m so sorry, Cope." he regards me with emotion making his eyes glassy with tears. "I never meant to hurt you." I grit my teeth and turn my head from his penetrating stare.

"Well, you did. You broke me."

"When I broke you, I broke myself too,"

I'm silent for a beat. "I’d take it back if I could. Anything to erase that night and everything after."

"But you can’t," he tells me bitterly. "We’re all fucked up now."

"I wasn’t when you were my best friend." Silence again, silence so deafening it kills me even more. But it's all just Lies. Everyone lies. Not everyone lies well. I’m one of those people. A bad liar. My truths are like little flashes of light. Stars blinking in the inky black sky. They beacon to the sea of people beneath me, revealing I’m nothing more than a plastic smile melting away in the harsh burn of reality. And my reality hurts like hell. Beneath my weak attempts at pretend happiness, I’m a void. Dripping nothing into an endless pool of nothingness. My pain is the truth I know best. Aching, soul-shattering, longing. The loneliness pulling my every cell into its dark depths is almost too much to bear. Some days, I can barely breathe. The suffering is a sadist, cutting me little by little, day by day, until one day I’ll be completely drained. Dried up and hollow. One last kick to the heart before I’m scattered into the wind, forgotten. I’m in love with my best friend. Lie. I’m in love with my enemy. Truth. But they’re the same. Lines in my world are blurry between fantasy and reality. Truth and lies. Love and hate. Copeland Lacey is my enemy. My once best friend. The sadist in my heart plucking and pulling at every thread of who I am until I’m unraveled at his feet. His mouth says he hates me. His eyes burn with animosity for me. But Copeland Lacey is the best liar of us all. And I'm too frightened to face my truth.