Between The Lies

Chapter 14: The Performance

LUCA

Wednesday morning, I'm loading my guitar into my car when Derek's truck pulls into the driveway.

I freeze, my hand on the car door.

Derek gets out with that easy smile, waving at me like nothing's wrong. Like he's not dating the girl I'm in love with.

"Hey, man! Morning!"

"Hey." I manage to sound normal. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to pick up Stella. Thought I'd surprise her, drive her to school." He grins. "Boyfriend duties, you know?"

Boyfriend. The word feels like a knife.

Before I can respond, the front door opens and Stella appears.

She's wearing her uniform, hair down, backpack over one shoulder. She looks beautiful and happy and completely at ease.

"Derek!" Her face lights up when she sees him. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd give my girl a ride to school." He opens the passenger door with a flourish. "Your chariot awaits."

She laughs—actually laughs—and it sounds real. Not forced. Not fake.

"You're so cheesy," she says, but she's smiling.

I watch this exchange, my chest tight, waiting for her to look at me. To show some sign that this bothers her as much as it bothers me.

But she doesn't.

She walks past me toward Derek's truck, and only then does she glance back.

"See you at school, brother," she says casually, like this is completely normal. Like watching her get into another guy's car doesn't destroy me.

Brother. The word is deliberate. A reminder of what we're supposed to be.

"Yeah. See you at school."

She gets in Derek's truck without looking back. Derek waves at me one more time before getting in the driver's side.

"Thanks for being cool about this, man!" he calls out. "I know some brothers would be weird about their sisters dating, but you're awesome!"

I force a smile. Wave back.

And then they're gone.

I stand in the driveway, staring at the empty space where Derek's truck was, trying to process what just happened.

She was fine. More than fine. She was happy.

Playing the role of Derek's girlfriend so perfectly that for a moment, I almost believed it myself.

Is that what we're doing now? Pretending so well that it becomes real?

I get in my car and drive to school, my hands gripping the steering wheel too tight.

STELLA

"You okay?" Derek asks as we drive.

I paste on a smile. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. You seemed a little off back there. With your brother."

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"You're always tired lately." He reaches over and takes my hand. "You sure everything's okay? You've been kind of distant."

I have to be better at this. Have to sell it more convincingly.

"I'm not distant. I'm here, aren't I?" I squeeze his hand. "I'm sorry if I've seemed off. I've just been stressed about dance and the recital coming up."

"Right. The big choreographer is watching." He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. "You're going to be amazing. You always are."

"Thanks."

"So, Friday night. My place. You coming?"

The implications are clear. His parents are gone. We'll be alone. He's expecting things to progress.

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Good." He grins. "I can't wait to spend some real alone time with you."

I smile and nod and play the part.

And I don't think about Luca standing in the driveway watching us leave.

I don't think about how calling him "brother" felt like swallowing glass.

I don't think about anything except being the girlfriend Derek deserves.

Even if I'm dying inside.

LUCA

I manage to avoid them at school.

It's easier than I thought. Derek has basketball practice. Stella has classes on the other side of campus. I keep my head down and focus on getting through the day.

Vanessa finds me at lunch.

"Hey," she slides into the seat across from me. "Haven't seen you around much. You doing okay?"

"Yeah. Just busy with showcase prep."

"Right." She doesn't look convinced but doesn't push. "Well, if you need anything, I'm around."

"Thanks, Vanessa."

She leaves, and I'm alone again with my thoughts and the image of Stella smiling at Derek this morning.

After school, I head straight to the studio Jake's dad set up in their garage. I need to work. Need to play. Need to do anything that isn't thinking about her.

Jake is there, messing with some equipment.

"Yo, you're actually here. Thought you'd be hiding in your room again."

"Needed to work on the showcase piece."

"Right. The mysterious song you won't let anyone hear." He studies me. "You know you're going to have to perform it in front of the whole school in like ten days, right?"

"I know."

"So why won't you play it for me? I could help with the arrangement."

Because it's too personal. Too raw. Too revealing.

"I'll play it when it's ready."

Jake shakes his head but doesn't argue. "Alright, man. Whatever you need."

I pick up my guitar and start playing. Not the showcase song—I can't handle that right now. Just random chords. Random melodies. Anything to quiet the noise in my head.

But every song turns into something about her. Every chord progression reminds me of the way she moves. Every lyric I improvise is about brown eyes and impossible love.

"Dude," Jake says after a while. "That's beautiful. What is that?"

"Nothing. Just messing around."

"That's not nothing. That's..." He pauses. "That's heartbreak, man. Pure heartbreak."

He's not wrong.

I play for hours. Until my fingers hurt and my voice is raw and the sun sets outside the garage windows.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Derek: Bro, quick question. What's Stella's favorite flowers? Want to surprise her tomorrow.

I stare at the message.

Roses. She likes white roses. I know because I bought them for her last birthday, and she kept them in her room until they died.

But I can't tell him that.

Me: Not sure. Ask her yourself.

Derek: Come on, man. Help me out. I want to be the best boyfriend I can be.

The best boyfriend. Right.

Me: Roses. White roses.

I send it and immediately regret it. But what else was I supposed to do?

Derek: Thanks, bro! You're the best!

I set my phone down and stare at my guitar.

Tomorrow, Derek is going to give my sister white roses. The flowers I know she loves. And she's going to smile and thank him and act like they mean the world to her.

And I'm going to have to watch it happen.

STELLA

Dance practice runs late Wednesday night.

Ms. Rodriguez has us repeating the final sequence until it's perfect. Every turn has to be precise. Every expression has to tell a story.

"Remember," she calls out. "Isabella Moretti is meeting with some of you individually tomorrow. Stella, you're first at four PM. Make sure you're prepared to talk about your goals and aspirations."

Goals and aspirations. Right.

My goal is to survive this fake relationship without falling apart.

My aspiration is to stop being in love with my brother.

Neither of those are things I can tell Isabella Moretti.

Practice ends at seven. I'm exhausted, covered in sweat, and my muscles are screaming.

I drive home alone, pulling into the driveway to find Luca's car already there.

The house is dark except for the kitchen light.

I walk in to find him making dinner. Pasta. My favorite.

"Hey," he says without turning around. "You're home late."

"Practice ran over."

"You should eat. You must be starving."

He's being normal. Distant but polite. The way siblings are supposed to be.

"Thanks."

He plates the pasta and sets it on the counter. Then he makes his own plate and moves to leave.

"You're not eating here?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Thought I'd eat in my room. Work on some music."

"Luca—"

"What, Stella?" He finally looks at me, and the pain in his eyes takes my breath away. "What do you want me to do? Sit here and have a nice family dinner while you're dating my best friend? While you smiled at him this morning like you're actually happy?"

"I have to smile. I have to act like—"

"I know. I know you're playing a role. But you're really good at it." His voice cracks. "So good that sometimes I wonder if it's still pretending."

"It's always pretending."

"Is it? Because you looked pretty real this morning. Pretty happy getting into his truck. Pretty comfortable with the whole thing."

"What do you want me to do? Break down crying every time I see him? Let everyone know something's wrong?"

"No. I want—" He stops himself. "I don't know what I want anymore."

We stand there in the kitchen, an ocean of space between us, and I can feel us slipping further apart every day.

"Your meeting with Isabella is tomorrow," he says finally, changing the subject.

"Yeah. Four PM."

"That's good. New York could be good for you. Distance."

"Is that what you want? For me to go away?"

"I want you to be happy. And you can't be happy here. Not with..." He gestures between us. "Not with this."

"And you think distance will fix it?"

"I think it's the only thing that might."

He takes his plate and heads upstairs, leaving me alone in the kitchen with pasta I don't want and a conversation that solved nothing.

My phone buzzes.

Derek: Can't wait to see you tomorrow, babe. Got a surprise for you ❤️

I stare at the message and type back: Can't wait 😊

Another lie.

Another performance.

Another day of pretending I'm someone I'm not.

I go upstairs to my empty room and collapse on my bed, too exhausted to even change out of my dance clothes.

Tomorrow I meet with Isabella. Tomorrow Derek gives me whatever surprise he's planned. Tomorrow I keep playing this role.

And tomorrow, Luca and I will keep drifting further apart.

Until we're strangers living in the same house.

Until the distance he wants so badly becomes the only thing between us.

Until we both finally accept that this impossible love was never meant to be.