Between The Lies

Chapter 9: The First Date

STELLA

It's been three days since I kissed Derek in front of the whole school.

Three days of pretending to be his girlfriend.

Three days of avoiding Luca's eyes across the dinner table.

Three days of dying inside.

And now Derek wants to take me on a proper date.

"Nothing too fancy," he'd said this morning, his arm around my shoulders like it belongs there. "Just dinner and a movie. Pick you up at seven?"

I'd smiled and said yes because that's what girlfriends do.

Now it's six-thirty, and I'm standing in front of my closet having a breakdown.

What do you wear when you're going on a date with someone you don't love? When the only person you want to see you dressed up is downstairs in the kitchen pretending everything is fine?

I pull out a simple black dress. Nothing too fancy. Nothing that says I'm trying too hard.

Nothing that will make Luca look at me the way he used to.

There's a knock on my door.

"Stella?" Luca's voice. "Derek texted. He's on his way."

"Okay. Thanks."

Silence. I can feel him standing on the other side of the door, and I wonder if he's struggling as much as I am. If he's imagining me with Derek the way I imagine him with someone else.

"Are you... are you excited?" His voice is careful. Controlled.

No. I'm miserable. I wish I was getting ready for you instead.

"Yeah," I lie. "Really excited."

Another pause. Then: "You'll look beautiful. You always do."

The words hit me like a physical blow. He shouldn't say things like that. Shouldn't make this harder than it already is.

"Thanks," I whisper.

His footsteps retreat down the hallway, and I finally let myself breathe.

LUCA

I shouldn't be downstairs when Derek arrives.

I should be in my room with headphones on, pretending I don't care that my best friend is taking my sister—the girl I love—on a date.

But I can't help myself.

I'm in the kitchen, pretending to make dinner I won't eat, when I hear Stella coming down the stairs.

I look up, and my heart stops.

She's wearing a black dress that hits just above her knees, her hair down in soft waves, minimal makeup that makes her eyes look even bigger. She's breathtaking.

And she's not dressed up for me.

"You look nice," I manage, my voice rougher than I intend.

"Thanks." She won't meet my eyes. "Is Derek here yet?"

"Not yet. You've got a few minutes."

She nods and moves to the mirror by the front door, checking her reflection. Adjusting her hair. Smoothing down her dress.

Getting ready for him.

"Stella," I say before I can stop myself.

She turns, and for just a second, we look at each other. Really look at each other.

And I see my own pain reflected in her eyes.

"Have fun tonight," I force myself to say. "Derek's a good guy. You deserve to be happy."

"Do I?" Her voice is so quiet I almost miss it.

Before I can ask what she means, headlights flash through the window. Derek's car in the driveway.

"He's here," she says, grabbing her purse.

"Stella, wait—"

But she's already out the door.

I watch through the window as Derek gets out of his car, all smiles and confidence. He opens the passenger door for her like a gentleman. Says something that makes her laugh—that fake laugh I've come to recognize.

And then they're gone.

And I'm alone in this empty house with the ghost of her perfume and the knowledge that she's spending the evening with someone else.

STELLA

Derek takes me to an Italian restaurant downtown. It's nice—white tablecloths, candlelight, soft music playing in the background. The kind of place you take someone you're trying to impress.

He pulls out my chair. Orders wine even though we're underage and the waiter doesn't card us. Tells me I look beautiful.

He's doing everything right.

So why does it all feel so wrong?

"You're quiet tonight," Derek says, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just tired from school." The lies come easier every day.

"Well, I'm glad we're finally doing this." His thumb strokes the back of my hand. "I've been wanting to take you out for so long."

"I know. I'm sorry it took me so long to say yes."

"Hey, what matters is you said yes eventually, right?" He smiles, and it's so genuine, so sweet. He really likes me. "I've liked you since sophomore year. Did you know that?"

I didn't. I was too busy watching my brother to notice anyone else.

"Really?"

"Really. I just never had the guts to ask until this year." He leans forward. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I kind of thought you and your brother were... I don't know. Closer than normal siblings? Like, he was always so protective of you. Still is, actually." Derek laughs. "When I asked him if it was cool to ask you out, he looked like he wanted to punch me."

My stomach drops. "When did you ask him?"

"Couple months ago. He said it was fine, that you make your own choices. But man, the look on his face..." Derek shakes his head. "Your brother's intense when it comes to you."

Because he loves me. Because it's killing him to watch this happen.

"He's just protective," I say weakly. "That's what big brothers do."

"I guess. But sometimes it feels like more than that, you know?" Derek's watching me carefully now. "Like at the party last week, when he pulled you away. Or how he looks at you sometimes when he thinks no one's watching."

My heart is pounding. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Forget it." Derek waves it off. "I'm probably reading into things. He's your brother. Obviously he cares about you."

The waiter arrives with our food, saving me from having to respond.

We eat. We talk. Derek tells me about basketball practice, about his plans for college, about his family. He asks about my modeling, my dance, my dreams.

He's perfect. Attentive. Interested. Everything a girl could want.

And all I can think about is Luca alone in that empty house.

LUCA

I'm not okay.

I'm sitting on the couch with my guitar, trying to write, but all I can think about is where they are right now. What they're doing. If he's holding her hand. If he's making her laugh for real this time.

If he's kissing her.

The thought makes me physically ill.

My phone buzzes. A text from Derek.

Derek: Dude, your sister is amazing. I can't believe she finally said yes. Thanks for being cool about this.

I stare at the message.

He thinks I'm cool about this. He thinks I'm the supportive older brother cheering them on.

He has no idea I'm dying inside.

Me: Just treat her right.

Derek: Always, man. She deserves the best.

She does. She deserves someone who can give her everything. Someone who isn't her brother. Someone who won't destroy her life with impossible feelings.

She deserves better than me.

So why does it hurt so much?

I set my phone down and pick up my guitar. The song that's been forming in my head for days pours out—angry and desperate and raw.

"I watch you smile for someone else

Pretend that I'm okay

But every laugh that isn't mine

Takes another piece away

You're right there but I can't reach

So close but miles apart

The cruelest joke that fate could play

Is loving you with all my heart"

The words feel like confession. Like bleeding out onto the strings.

I play until my fingers hurt. Until the anger turns to grief. Until I'm empty.

And still, they're not home.

STELLA

The movie is a romantic comedy. Derek holds my hand through the whole thing, his thumb drawing circles on my palm.

On screen, the couple kisses in the rain. The audience sighs. Derek squeezes my hand.

And I think about Luca's kiss. The one that started everything. The one that felt like coming home and falling apart all at once.

Nothing will ever compare to that.

"That was good, right?" Derek asks as we leave the theater.

"Yeah. Really good."

"You barely laughed though. Was it not funny?"

"No, it was. I'm just tired."

He studies my face in the parking lot lights. "Stella, are you sure you're okay? You've seemed... distant all night."

"I'm fine. I promise."

"Is it your brother? Is he upset about us dating?"

The question catches me off guard. "What? No. Why would you think that?"

"I don't know. The way he looked at me when I picked you up... and he's been kind of cold at school lately." Derek opens my car door. "I just want to make sure we're all good. He's my best friend. I don't want this to mess that up."

But it already has. The second I kissed you, everything got messy.

"Luca's fine with it," I lie. "He wants me to be happy."

"Do I make you happy?"

The question hangs in the air between us.

I should say yes. Should smile and kiss him and play the part.

But I'm so tired of lying.

"I'm still figuring that out," I say quietly.

Derek's face falls, just a little. "Oh."

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong—"

"No, it's okay. I get it. We just started dating. You need time." He starts the car. "I just really like you, Stella. I want this to work."

"I know. I do too."

Another lie. But what else can I say?

The drive home is quieter. Derek walks me to the door, nervous energy radiating off him.

"So, I had a really great time tonight," he says.

"Me too."

"Can I... can I kiss you goodnight?"

No. I don't want you to. I want to go inside and find Luca and tell him this whole thing was a mistake.

But I nod because that's what girlfriends do.

Derek leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away. But I don't. I let him press his lips to mine in a sweet, gentle kiss.

It's nice.

It's nothing.

When he pulls back, he's smiling. "I'll text you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

"Goodnight, Stella."

"Goodnight."

I watch him drive away, then turn to the door.

And freeze.

Through the window, I can see Luca standing in the living room. Watching. His face is carefully blank, but his hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

He saw the kiss.

My heart breaks all over again.

LUCA

I shouldn't have been watching.

Shouldn't have been standing by the window when Derek's car pulled up. Shouldn't have seen him walk her to the door. Shouldn't have watched him kiss my sister goodnight.

But I couldn't help myself.

And now I have to live with the image burned into my brain.

Stella comes inside, and we stand there in the entryway, an ocean of space between us.

"How was your date?" I force myself to ask.

"Fine." Her voice is flat. "It was fine."

"Just fine?"

"What do you want me to say, Luca?"

Everything. Nothing. I don't know.

"Did you have fun?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. It matters. I want you to be happy."

"Do you?" She finally looks at me, and there are tears in her eyes. "Because you don't look happy. You look like you're dying inside. Just like I am."

The admission hangs between us.

"Stella—"

"I can't do this." Her voice breaks. "I can't pretend anymore. I can't date Derek and act like it means something when all I think about is you. I can't watch you pretend to be okay with it when I know you're not. I can't—"

"Then don't."

The words are out before I can stop them.

"What?"

"Don't pretend. Don't date him if you don't want to. Don't torture yourself trying to be normal when we both know—" I stop myself.

"Know what?"

"That nothing about this is normal. That no matter how hard we try, we can't change how we feel."

She's crying now. Really crying. "But we have to. We're siblings, Luca. We don't have a choice."

"I know."

"So what are we supposed to do?"

I move toward her without thinking. Close the distance between us. Cup her face in my hands.

"I don't know," I whisper. "But I know I can't watch you with him anymore. I know that watching him kiss you felt like dying. I know that this whole thing is killing us both."

"Luca—"

"Tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me I'm alone in this and I'll walk away. I'll support you and Derek and I'll never mention this again."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because it would be a lie." More tears stream down her face. "Because I felt nothing when he kissed me. Because all I wanted was to come home to you. Because I'm in love with you too and I don't know how to stop."

The confession breaks something open between us.

"We can't do this," she whispers even as she leans into my touch. "We can't."

"I know."

"We're siblings."

"I know."

"This is wrong."

"I know."

But neither of us moves away.

We stand there in our empty house, both of us crying, both of us breaking, both of us knowing this can't end well.

And still, I don't let go of her face.

"I have to stay with Derek," she says finally, and the words sound like they're killing her.

"What?"

"I have to. If I break up with him now, people will ask questions. Mia will ask questions. He'll ask questions." She's crying harder now. "And what am I supposed to say? That I can't date him because I'm in love with my brother?"

The words hit like a punch.

"Stella—"

"No. You know I'm right. We have to keep pretending. I have to keep dating him and you have to keep acting like you're okay with it and we both have to survive this somehow."

"I can't watch you with him anymore."

"You have to." Her voice breaks. "Because the alternative is worse. The alternative is everyone knowing. Mom and Dad knowing. Losing everything."

She's right. God, she's right and I hate it.

"How long?" I ask. "How long do we have to do this?"

"I don't know. Until it stops hurting? Until we figure out how to stop feeling this way?" She laughs bitterly. "Forever, probably."

"This is going to destroy us."

"I know." She pulls away from my touch, and the loss of contact feels like losing a limb. "But we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice."

"No, we don't. Not with this." She wipes her tears, trying to compose herself. "I'm going upstairs. Derek's probably going to text me goodnight and I have to... I have to respond like a normal girlfriend."

"Stella, wait—"

"Please don't make this harder than it already is." Her voice cracks. "I can't... I can't talk about this anymore tonight. I can't."

She runs upstairs before I can stop her.

Her door closes. Locks.

And I'm alone in the entryway, my hands still tingling from where I touched her face, my heart shattered on the floor.

She's going to keep dating Derek.

I'm going to have to keep watching.

We're going to keep pretending we don't love each other while living in the same house, eating at the same table, driving to school together.

It's torture.

But she's right—the alternative is worse.

So I'll survive this somehow. I'll watch her play happy girlfriend. I'll smile when Derek talks about how great she is. I'll die a little more each day.

Because that's all I can do.

My phone buzzes.

Derek: Thanks again for being cool about me and Stella. You're a good brother, man.

I stare at the message until the screen goes blurry.

A good brother.

If only he knew.