I vividly remember the day my life changed completely. It was a Tuesday during summer and I had just gotten back from soccer camp. I was so excited to tell my mom about the people I met, and how much better I've gotten. I wouldn't say my mother and I have always been close but, she did come to my games and listen to me when I needed someone to talk to. She was a typical stay-at-home mom. She volunteered for school field trips, cooked healthy dinners, and even signed me up for this soccer camp I begged to go to this summer. Sometimes I dream about that day.

      "Mom!"  

     "Mom!"
     That's when I heard my dad come in from his room. You could tell he had been crying, which was very abnormal. Dads don't cry. Of course, I thought the worse.
 My bottom lip trembled as I asked the dreaded question. "Is mom...is she...dead?" My eyes watered as I waited for the dreaded response. 
     After what seemed like an eternity, my father finally responded. "Spiritually speaking, she's alive. She's healthy."
 I didn't get it. "What? What do you mean? What happened? Where's mom?"
 Dad narrowed his eyes as he answered, "She left us. That whore left us. She's not coming back. From this day forth, she's dead to us. We will no longer acknowledge her existence in this house."

     And we didn't. That was the day my mother died. Granted, she didn't actually die. But to my father and I, she is dead. So, that's how my story begins. The day my life turned into a big lie. I lied to my friends, my teachers, and to myself. That Tuesday, I became motherless. And if I'm being truthful, fatherless. My father is a doctor and  never was home often in the first place. Now that my mother is gone, he hasn't had interest in being home for dinner. I understand it's hard for him. I look like her. I get it's not the ideal situation to be in. But I'm still here. Alone, but I'm here.

    My earliest memory was when I was about 4. I remember using my father's tools to fix my new tricycle I got for Christmas. Nothing was wrong with my bike, I just remember wanting to be like my dad. My dad always worked on cars and I loved watching him know which tools to use to fix various things. I wanted to use tools, too. So, I got a few of the coolest looking ones, and messed around with whatever I could on the bike to "fix" it.
     My father came outside just as I figured out how to take the tire off. I was so excited to see him come out there so I could show him that I could fix things just as he did. I was going to change my first tire at the age of 4. Impressive stuff, in my opinion. My father apparently didn't agree.
 "What the hell are you doing, boy?"
 I knew that tone. That's the tone used when I needed to hide in my room. The tone he normally reserved for my mom.
 Although I was scared, I thought if I explained myself, he would understand and be proud of me.
 "I was trying to be like you, daddy. I wanted to work on my bike like you work on you cars. See?"
 I moved out of the way to show him my handiwork. Inwardly, I smiled at my accomplishment.
 He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and got eye-level  with me. "You know better than to touch any of my tools. Who do you think you are? You stupid kids don't know how to respect my property. You think money grows on trees? You just ruined your bike and could have lost my tools!"
 I remember being very confused as to why he was so upset. Looking back, I can understand being mad about taking the tire off my bike. Not such a good idea. Although, I should mention again, I was 4! Didn't all kids want to be like their dads? It still didn't excuse what he did to me.
 Once I realized my father was not proud of my achievements, my pride turned to fear as he tightened his grip. He jerked the wrench from my hand and hit me on the back of the leg. I cried in pain. This is the first time I remember being injured by either of my parents, and,  it certain wasn't the last.
 My door slammed opened, bringing me from my memories.
     "Talan! I need to borrow your truck!"
     My brother, Logan, is only a grade below me in school. I'm two years older than him. I was held back a year, thanks to a particularly rough year provided to me by my parents. My younger brother was one of the few people I talk to these days. I try to keep him out of trouble. Deep down, I know he's a good kid. He just hangs out with the wrong crowd. I can't blame him for the stupid stuff he does considering he was raised by monsters. Thankfully, he turns to girls for his problems rather than drugs. Although, lately I wonder if he's been doing more than girls and booze.
     "Logan,  you don't have your license yet. You know I'm not going to let you take my truck. Quit asking." We've had this discussion over and over again. When my dad first got sent to prison, I thought I'd be the cool brother. I'd be my usual self, and he'd have no problem doing what I asked. I was wrong. Lately, I've had to sound more like a drill sergeant than an older brother. Which hasn't produced a desirable outcome. My brother doesn't realize I try to protect him. I only have his best interest at heart. I need to make sure he doesn't turn out like our parents. I don't care what he does as long as he's safe. With girls, with friends... with any decision he makes.
        "Talan. What's the big deal? It's for two hours! I just need to take Mindy...eh...Mary...back home."
     Really? The kid can't even keep up with the name of the girl he spent half the night with? A redhead pushed the door a little wider. She saw me and smiled. I'm guessing this is Mindy...or Mary. The redhead stuck her hand out to me with a smile, puffing her chest out. "Actually, it's Mallory." She introduces her self as she narrows her eyes to my brother. She obviously heard the name debacle. It took everything it had in me not to laugh at his discomfort. I had to bite my lip to try and act like I hadn't noticed.
     I don't grab her hand. I don't do friendliness. I also don't allow my brother to drive my truck. Especially without a license. My powder blue, 1994 Ford F150 XL wasn't that much to brag about but it was mine. Restored it from the ground up. Can't say my old man never taught me anything. Either way,  it was time for this chick to go and I could tell Logan didn't care how she got home. So, I did the responsible thing and offered her a ride.
     I got into the truck and waited for her to shut the door. She looked to me with a frown on her face. "So, you're Logan's brother? I think we are in the same grade. I'm Mallory James. Maybe you've heard of me?"
    I had. But I wasn't going to admit it. I also know the crowd she stuck around. She's one of the elite on the soccer team. Soccer is a big sport in our school. Girls on the soccer team are all but royalty in our town. A few had already been scouted for some of the top colleges close by our North Carolina high school. Duke, Virginia Tech, and UVA already had their eyes on some of the girls from our team. I can't say that I blame them. Not that I go to many school sporting events, but you can't live in Eden North Carolina and not know when you've got some talent living close by.
     I finally decide to answer her. "Can't say that I have." I'm a man of few words. Especially if I don't like a person. And I don't like her. She gives me a knowing smile with a wink, "Whatever you say."
     That was basically the entire conversation we had to her house. She pointed her house out to me when we got close and I pulled into her semi-circle driveway. She lived in one of the nicer brick houses in the area.  I didn't take the extra effort to respond to her as she waved good bye, swaying her hips as she walked down the lit pathway to her front porch. Honestly, I'm not a mean guy. I just don't have time for people. I have my brother and myself to care for. This is my first year back to school since my father went to prison. I was held back a year after missing so much school for various reasons - father induced injuries, running errands for my parents, and just not caring about school. Now that he's locked away, I know I need to finish school to set a good example for my brother.  I'm also smart enough to know I need to graduate high school in order to get a good enough job so I can get the hell out of this town.

      Today is the first day of my junior year. Normally, I'm one of those annoying kids who are excited to be back in school. I get excited about picking out my outfit for the first day and love the smell of the rubber on new shoes. I guess it helps that I'm considered popular, so I have a ton of friends and stay busy with extracurricular activities. I've always excelled in school. After my mom left, I knew this year would be rough. To my friends, I seem to have the perfect life. Good grades, a loving family, and just  being an overall likable person. It helps that my father is one of the only doctors in our small town. My mom was like everyone's mom. She came to every soccer game, every PTO meeting, and even chaperoned most of my field trips throughout middle and high school. Now, I have no loving mother and a sorry excuse for a father. I have no one at home. It wasn't just my mom who abandoned me that day. Ever since, my father has been spending every hour at the hospital. Don't get me wrong, he's always worked long hours. But now, my father doesn't even bother coming home at night. He normally stops in a couple days a week to get more clothes but the visits are getting few and far between these days. I suspect before too long, he'll have all of his clothes moved out and he will no longer need to make the trips to the house. Apparently I'm not enough reason to be home. Which brings me back to the realization that junior year is going to suck.
     Until now, I never realized how good I actually had it. I honestly never had to hide much from my friends. I never got in trouble at school, I have always been a pretty good student. I had no deep, dark secrets in my closet. Well, until now.
 As I search the halls for my two best friends, I replay my story in my mind. The story I made up to pretend to be the old me. I don't like to lie but no one wants to be the kid who was abandoned by both parents and had their life flipped upside down in a single summer. Especially when they were known as "Miss Perfect" by the everyone at Eagle High School. Talk about embarrassing.
     Spotting my friends, I plaster on the fake smile I've learned to perfect over this summer. Time to get this over with.
 "Mallory! Marisa!" I run over to give my friends a hug. As bad as I dreaded coming to school today, I was honestly excited to see my friends again. Even though I had no plans to tell them how my summer went, it was nice to have them back in my hectic life. Actually, it was nice to have someone to interact with in person.
     The two of them squealed, no doubt causing half of the student body to look over at us. They should be used to it by now, we three have been inseparable since soccer camp in 9th grade, where we first met. I met Mallory first, behind the bleachers, she was making out with one of the guys from an opposing team. Needless to say, she made quite the impression. She was a blonde haired, total knock out. She had the long, tan legs and the bright teeth that girls my age would kill for. Marisa, on the other hand, was less outgoing than Mallory, but has always been a loyal friend - on and off the field. She was beautiful too, in a more subtle way. She typically wore her long, brown hair in a braid and seemed to care less about makeup and her appurtenance.
     Mallory started first with the hellos. "I've missed you so much, Ash! Where have you been? You've been M-I-A since school let out. Not cool." I almost cracked under pressure by the mere look she was giving me. If looks could kill, I'd be dead. I absolutely hated lying to my friends.
     Marisa nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "Seriously! You had us both worried sick! I thought you were dead until you sent us that lame text telling us you were alive and visiting relatives out of town. You could have at least let us know or called more often." I could tell they were exaggerating, but I really wasn't in the position to call anyone out. I guess I should have made more of an effort to talk with them this summer, but I wasn't really up for it. I put off the lying game for as long as I could.
     And now we've arrived to the moment I was trying to avoid. The moment I lied to my two best friends for the first time.
 "Sorry, ladies! Like I said in my text, I had to go visit family out of town. I was deep in the West Virginia mountains so I didn't have cell service." I maintained my fake smile, and crossed my fingers they wouldn't ask me for details. I knew I'd crack under pressure if they did.
     I once heard if you have to lie, you should tell partial truths so that it is easier to keep up with. Thankfully, I did have family in West Virginia, and I normally can't get signal in some areas. Did I mention how much I hate lying to my friends? I could already feel sweat forming above my brow.
     Mallory rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I still think you could have called on a land line if you really wanted to. But, this is a new year, so I'm willing to let you off the hook -- this time. But, next time you disappear, you better call us I don't care if you are kidnapped by the Russian mafia and have to kill three mobsters to get to a phone. You get to a phone and you call us!"
 Mallory can be a bit dramatic. But, she made me laugh for the first time in a couple months. I realized how badly I have been needing my friends. I could tell she was wanting to lecture me more but thankfully, the bell rang, signaling us for our first class.
 Talk about saved by the bell.
     I've got to be honest. This technically isn't the first lie I've had to tell my friends. Honestly, I've been misleading everyone since I started high school. I'm pretty smart. I mean –  really, really smart. I can solve complex math without a calculator, I have a 4.0 GPA and I don't remember ever failing a test. Unfortunately, in our school, the smart kids are classified as nerds. This has never made sense to me. I've always tried hard to fit in. I'd like to lie and say I'm confident enough to not care what people think of me, but I like being popular. Who doesn't, if their honest? I strive to be accepted by every one. I don't mean to sound like a snob because I'm really not one. I'm popular but I'm not a bully. One reason I have so many friends is because I am friends with all people, no matter what clique they're in. I'm nice to everyone. I love to talk and I don't see a point in being mean to people for no reason. I haven't made any enemies in school
     So, my first class of the day -- Statistics. To most seniors, it's a required math class for those who failed one of their other math courses and need another math credit to graduate. As a junior, I'm just taking it as an elective. I get that sounds completely nerdy of me which is why I my friends think I'm taking it because I failed Algebra 2 last year and need another math credit. I didn't technically lie but I also didn't correct their assumption.
     Thankfully, I didn't see too many people I really know in this class. I hate acting dumb, especially in classes I enjoy. It's easier to be myself when I don't have to worry about people thinking I'm a nerd.
 The final bell rang, and the door flew open. With every eye turning towards the door, in walks the elusive Talan Preston. I can almost see every female's jaw drooping towards the ground. I may have had to pick up my own, but I will not confirm nor deny that statement. I may be a liar but I'm not blind.
     Honestly, I don't know much about Talan other than the obvious, he's hot. I mean, drop dead gorgeous, hot. The guy has the darkest brown eyes I've ever seen and dark, spiked hair. Not too long, but just barely long enough to spike in the very front. He's also very tall. Granted, nearly everyone is tall compared to me. But he's at least 6 foot tall to my 5'4 statute. Talan has bad boy written all over him. No, literally. I'm talking sleeve-tattoos he so proudly displays. I was a little shocked to see Talan walk in, especially since he missed all of last year. I always wondered what really happened to him. I don't buy into most rumors I hear but some of the things I heard about him had me curious what his story was. I've heard just about every thing that could have possibly happened to him. I've heard he was arrested, sent to rehab after an overdose, and that he's been on house arrest for beating someone up.. Freshmen year, Talan had girls swarming him. That only lasted a semester though. It's not that girls don't think he's physically attractive, obviously that's not the issue. I think people are just scared of him. Or got tired of being ignored by him. He isn't the most approachable person in the world. He gives a "pissed off at the world" vibe and has a scowl that is permanently plastered to his face. I've seen girls attempt to go over and flirt with him in the past, it's pretty amusing. They get within 4 feet of him and something on his face just makes them turn and walk away. It's almost admirable. Honestly, I'm not intimidated easily, so he doesn't scare me. I feel like it's all an act. Like he's not being himself. I guess I'm one to talk. I turn back to the front, and act as if I wasn't affected by his presence.