Love and Its Lies

Sixteen - The Journal

Aly could not move for a while. She was cold and her joints ached after staying still for minutes, but she did not have the capacity to move. Beside her, Danny had begun to pack away his camera. When he stood up and she didn’t follow, he nudged at her.

“Let’s go,” he quietly said.

Aly did not like what she heard. Not one bit. John had looked so serious and… guilty. Her head could not catch up with all the information that lacked context. Was she overthinking it?

“Aly,” Danny called again. This time, he was crouching in front of her and shaking her lightly by the arms. “Jesus, you’re so cold,” he muttered in surprise, then placed his hands on her cheeks to feel that they, too, were freezing. He hurriedly took off his jacket and draped it over her back and shoulders before pulling her up to stand. The movement snapped Aly out of her daze. She stared at Danny—or at least at his silhouette.

“Sorry, yeah, let’s go,” she said.

Danny frowned but picked up his backpack and held onto Aly’s arm to guide her through the roots and rubble. He only let go of her when they reached the sidewalk. None of them talked as they walked back to the hotel. Danny occasionally glanced at Aly, who seemed to be deep in thought the entire way.

When they reached the foot of the hotel, Aly turned to him and said, as if thinking out loud, “It still doesn’t prove anything, right? I mean, we don’t know the context, but—but things might not be how they seemed. Right?”

With Aly looking vulnerable in her denial, Danny contemplated how he should respond. He put a hand over her shoulder, but before he had a chance to say anything, they heard someone say, “Hello there, good evening!”

There stood one of the tourists that Aly had seen in the dining area—still fully clothed in black, holding a flashlight in his hand. Danny took back his hand and awkwardly put it in his pocket. The man smiled at them.

“Are you two from around here, as well?” he asked.

Danny raised his eyebrows, not knowing who the heck the man was.

“No, we’re staying in the hotel as well,” Aly meekly replied.

The man's eyes brightened, “Ah, a couple!”

Danny shook his head to deny it vehemently. He could see how someone could misunderstand when he just had his hand on her shoulder a few seconds ago, looking at her with such soft eyes. “Cousins,” he spat out. “Just cousins.”

The man looked embarrassed. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Would any of you happen to know where the cemetery is?”

The question surprised Danny, but he pointed at the direction anyway. The man was more than happy with the help, bid them good night, and went on his way.

“Paranormal enthusiasts,” Aly explained before heading up the stairs. Danny frowned in confusion but followed soon after. Before she entered the hotel, she took off Danny's leather jacket and handed it back to him.

“I didn’t borrow it,” she said defensively.

“If I didn’t give it to you, you would’ve frozen.”

Aly rolled her eyes and opened the door. Danny had to admit that seeing her return to her usual self was a relief. When they entered, they saw Fred sitting behind the desk, eating an apple while doing a crossword puzzle. He looked up at them and narrowed his eyes.

“You two have been friendly recently,” he said.

“I was on a run,” Aly lied, pointing at her outfit. “We just saw each other outside.”

“Running at this time of the night?” Fred raised an eyebrow.

Aly was quick to think, and said, “Back in the city, people usually jogged at night because they worked in the day. We aren’t really morning people there.”

“Must’ve been cold out tonight,” was all Fred said, eyeing her clothes. Marion stepped out of the kitchen and smiled as she saw the two.

“You both missed dinner,” she said with concern.

“The city girl was out on a run,” Fred explained, obviously not believing her excuse. Then, he looked at Danny, who immediately said, “I was taking pictures of the town… for my blog.”

Unlike her husband, Marion didn’t question them further. Instead, she only said, “You two must be hungry. Would you like to eat?”

“I’ll bring my dinner upstairs,” Danny replied politely. “If you don’t mind.”

“Me too,” Aly followed.

Marion happily agreed. She made them wait in the lobby while she prepared the food. Fred ushered Danny to come closer and questioned him about his “blog”—which he flawlessly lied about, showing pictures from his camera that he had taken a few days back, not knowing that it would actually be of use. Fred seemed to buy all of it, and even admired his photography skills.

Aly and Danny excused themselves after Marion handed them their trays—a relief for Danny who had begun to run out of made-up blog posts. They went up in silence. Danny placed his food on the desk then set down his bag and jacket on the bed. He was about to sit on the chair to eat when the door to his room suddenly flung open.

Aly walked in—tray in her hand—and simply said, “You should really lock your doors,” before sitting on the bed and placing the tray on her lap.

Danny’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then frowned. “What are you doing?” he wanted to know.

Aly bit on the dinner roll and shrugged. Danny sighed and shook his head, but started to eat. “Just…stay quiet,” he said. Aly nodded, and for a while, she did. For no more than a minute, they only ate. That was, of course, until Aly suddenly began, “So…”

Danny sighed for what seemed like the tenth time that night. “What?” he asked, placing down his utensils. He turned his chair to face Aly, crossed his legs and put an arm over the back of the chair. “Are you going to try to convince me that Mr. Perfect Johnny boy is innocent?”

Aly pursed her lips and slowly said, “Not exactly.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. She placed her tray beside her on the bed and leaned her elbows on top of her knees. “Before you say anything, hear me out. I still think that John deserves the benefit of a doubt, but—” Aly held out her hand and tutted when Danny opened his mouth to interrupt. “Uh uh, let me finish,” she warned.

When he clicked his jaw close, she continued, “But, what I saw—no, what I heard tonight… I mean, I still can’t understand half of what I heard. Something about an accident, files, John being promoted to CFO and some guy not calling him back? I just—the whole meeting admittedly seemed very sketchy, like,” she struggled to find the right description.

Ultimately, she ended up describing it as, “Like they were villains in a spy film or something,” which Danny only scoffed at. “I don’t understand,” she continued, “John’s always been this sweet, charming boy who could do no wrong, but what I witnessed tonight… well, my gut is telling me my assumptions might have been wrong.”

Danny looked at her, waiting if she was going to add more. She threw her hands up in defeat and pleaded, “I don’t understand, so help me understand.”

Danny was delightedly surprised. For once, Aly seemed like she just might be convinced to the truth. Still, he was reluctant when he replied, “I don’t know if I can tell you everything.”

“Then tell me the gist of it,” she said. “I'll take whatever it is you can say. You already showed me some photos before, and so far you’ve only told me that ‘John is a bad man, dangerous, blah blah,’” she imitated his voice—something he did not seem too happy about.

Danny weighed his options carefully. On one hand, telling Aly would most likely scare her off—or at least enough to get her out of his way. She would also finally stop singing endless praise about the man. On the other, he was not sure she could be trusted. What if he tells her and she goes running back to John with all the information? Danny might not make it out of town in one piece once John learns someone’s after him. However, it had also been a few days and so far, she had yet to blow his cover—or at least, as far as he knew. Was she trust-worthy enough? He wondered.

Aly, who sensed his hesitation, suddenly said, “Wait here a sec,” before standing up and going out of his room in a hurry, leaving Danny confused for a few seconds until she walked back in and handed him a notebook.

“Here,” she said proudly, waving it in front of his face. Danny put on his glasses, and with a frown, he took it and examined it. It was a leather-bound journal that looked at least a few years old. It was thick with what seemed like pictures, pasted craft materials and—to Danny’s astonishment—dried leaves and flowers. It was almost full, except for a couple of pages at the end. Danny rubbed his index finger and thumbs together and grimaced, as tiny dots of glitter attached to his skin.

“What,” he wiped his fingers on his clothes and held up the journal in confusion, “is this?”

Aly sat back down on the bed, watching him with amusement.

“Proof of loyalty.”

It was not Danny’s first time to see a journal. It a first for him, however, to see one that’s filled with pictures, drawings, scrawls and journal entries about a certain Mr. John Wendell.

“What,” he asked again in confusion as he carefully touched the glittered borders of what he could only assume was a stolen photo of a college-aged John in a football field, “the hell is this?”

Aly shrugged, as if the journal was the most normal thing a girl could have. “A prized possession.”

Danny lifted his face up at her with a look of horror.

“It’s my journal. It even has my name on it in front,” Aly said, motioning for him to look at the cover.

“Oh, I didn’t see that,” Danny sarcastically said, frowning at a page where there was a picture of Aly glued next to a picture of John.

“I made that in college,” she explained. “I had to pour my heart out somewhere since I couldn’t find it in me to confess to him.”

Danny shut the journal, having had seen enough that his eyes started to hurt. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “My god,” was all he could think to say.

“You can keep it for the time being. I’m lending it to you to show that you can trust me. I’d never try to get on your bad side when you have a—okay, I’ll admit it—a slightly stalker-ish journal of mine.”

“This is not stalker-ish at all. This is just plain stalking!” Danny said, leaning forward and pointing at a photo of John drinking water in the football field, to get his point across. “For young kids to do this for N-Sync or whoever their celebrity crush is—that’s perfectly normal. But, for a—what, 18 year old through your early twenties? This is just…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Look, I was in college and he's my first love, okay?” Aly said, looking offended. “I was a late bloomer, romance-wise. I didn’t even have my first kiss until college with some random guy at a frat party—and I only did it for the experience.”

Danny only looked more confused.

“Look, Danny, just hang onto it, okay? If you show that to John—”

“Or the police,” he muttered under his breath.

Aly flatly looked at him. “If you show that to John or anyone else I know, it will be the end of me. You already saw how embarrassing it is,” she said. “Tit for tat. Just so you know that you have something over me and you can trust me.”

She sounded and looked serious about it. Danny placed the journal on the desk and massaged at his forehead, thinking. After a while, he looked up at her and said, “Fine,” making her smile widely, as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Fine,” she repeated back happily. “Good, great!”

“Okay, listen,” Danny started, when Aly interrupted him.

“By the way, don’t bother lying—”

“I know, I know, you’re some kind of lie-detector test,” he said as he rolled his eyes. He sat back on his chair and crossed his legs, balancing an outstretched arm over his knee. “Can I start now?”

Aly pretended to zip her mouth and looked at him attentively, so he began.