Living A Lie

“What?” I whip around and look at my older brother.

“I…yeah. You heard me,” Hunter says, looking a bit nervous.

“No, no, no, no, no. You cannot just say that.” I scoff slightly and look at him with a hint of anger and surprise.

“I can and I did, Julia.” He crosses his arms, looking back at me.

“You’re telling me I’ve been living a lie? I thought our parents died in a car crash and now you’re telling me that they are still alive?” I say as I step closer to him, still not believing him.

He stays silent, his sparkly blue eyes wandering everywhere but towards me, looking a little trapped.

“You knew all this time? And you didn’t tell me?” My voice raises slightly and he takes a step back.

“Well…I wasn’t supposed to,” he says quietly.

“Why? Did someone tell you that you can't?” I step even closer, almost pinning him to the wall.

He seems to start to panic. “I-I can't tell you.”

“Tell me. Or I swear to God, I will turn your life upside down,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You wouldn’t dare. We’re family,” he tilts his head, looking worried. Even he doesn’t seem to believe those words.

“I. Would. Dare.” I place a hand against the wall on either side of his head, effectively trapping him.

He may be three years older than me, but I’ve always been the braver one.

My brother is taller and stronger than me. How does he expect to get through life being more cowardly than his younger sister?

He swallows hard and it takes every ounce of me not to laugh at how loud that was.

“I'm not going to ask again. Who told you not to tell me?” I say softly yet firmly at the same time, looking at him.

He sighs and finally looks at me.

“They did,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes widen and I freeze.

“...What?!” I yell, staring at him.

“Calm down…please. I promise to explain everything…Well, some things,” he replies, trying to stay strong. I think it's hard for him though because I am basically fuming by now.

“Calm down?” I laugh humorlessly. “Don’t tell me to calm down. I have every right to be mad.”

“You’re right. You are so right,” he agrees with me, smiling nervously, probably still trying to calm me down.

“I swear to God, if you do not get that smile off your face, I will wipe it off.” I poke a finger against his chest.

He immediately stops smiling and seems to shrink back slightly.

“Now, tell me what the heck happened to make my life like this,” I demand.

“Okay, okay, fine. Just stop yelling at me,” he says, shakily.

“Good.” I take a step back.

He relaxes slightly and steps away from the wall.

He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Okay, so it all began when our parents were on a mission for the CIA,” he starts.

“CIA?! You never mentioned the CIA!” I shout with disbelief.

“Shut up! Someone will hear you!” he whispers loudly, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Right, sorry,” I mutter.

He seems surprised that I apologized but he continues with his story.

“Oh, well, now I did. Anyways…They were going against this guy, Victor Botani, and they kind of ticked him off, so after that fight, he started tracking them, and they had to go undercover.

They didn’t want to risk putting you in harm’s way, so they faked their death and stayed away,” he explains, quickly and quietly.

I stay silent for a moment, processing what the heck he just said.

“Okay, problem solved. I have more important matters to deal with, like the fact that you just shouted so now the whole entire CIA may know what is going on,” he says hurriedly, stepping towards the door.

I grab his arm, stopping him. “Hold up, we are not done here.”

He sighs. “Fine. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are they now?” I ask, not as loudly as before, ignoring the part that they are both CIA agents and he didn’t think to mention that sooner.

He pauses, presumably contemplating whether to tell me or not.

“Across the country,” he finally answers, looking down.

“Across the country?” I pause. “Do you think I could communicate with them?”

“You can’t! You’ll give away their position and then they’ll have to do this all over again,” he says, exasperatedly.

“Okay, okay, chill,” I roll my eyes and sigh.

“No. I didn’t get to tell you to calm down so you don’t get to tell me to chill, got it?” he looks at me.

“Since when did you get so bold?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised at how he is talking to me.

“Since I started helping our parents and other people. I’m not a coward like you may think anymore.” He crosses his arms in a defensive position and tilts his head, looking braver now than he did before.

“Well, what do we do now that I know?” I ask, looking to the side.

He brings his fingers to his temple and rubs them. “I have no idea, we just need to stay away from anyone who may know about this. We can’t have the CIA finding out that I have told you,” he says quickly, stepping to the side and grabbing his phone off of the coffee table.

“What do you plan on doing?” I look at him curiously.

“I know a guy who can help us lay low. But we need to move fast.” He dials a number and presses call.

“Hello?” he asks through the phone.

I’m pretty sure someone responded because he continues.

“We have a situation,” he says.

After he says that, I realize something. I grab his phone from him and power it down.

“Hey! I was in the middle of a conversation!” He stares at me.

“They can track you, can’t they?” I ask, accusingly.

He pauses when I say that. He thinks for a moment before sighing. “You’re right. Let’s hope they haven’t already.”

“So what do we do?” I put his phone down.

“From what I heard so far, we’re going to meet him. I’ll show you where.” He walks to the door and holds it open for me.

We walk to the car and get in, driving across town for several minutes before stopping. We get out and he leads me down an empty alleyway.

“What are we doing here?” I ask with a tone of suspicion.

He doesn’t answer me. He just walks to the dead end and stops in the middle of the alley.

There is a dumpster back a few feet to the left. A door to the right. Cardboard and wood leaning against the brick wall in front of us.

I want to question what he’s doing but I don’t want to distract him and slow him down.

He steps forward and moves a large piece of wood out of the way to reveal an opening in the wall. He steps through and I follow.

The sight shocks me.

It’s dark in the room that we appear in. The walls have a soft, red carpeting on them with swirls of gold every few feet but also a few tatters every now and then. The floor is the same as the walls but a bit darker.

The hall is long and narrow but lit with a mysterious ambiance.

“What is this place?” I ask, my voice echoing quietly, due to the open space.

“A building set aside for people in hiding. My friend owns it,” he replies calmly.

“Which friend?” I drag my hand along the wall to my right.

“Brandon Chavel,” he answers. He stops near the end of the wall and turns to a single oak door on the left.

There is no doorknob. He clenches his fist and knocks on the door in a numbered pattern.

Knock, knock, knock…

Knock, knock…

Knock, knock…

Knock, knock, knock, knock…

The door swings open to reveal a man with black hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and the height of an eighteen year old.

“Oh, it’s you. Come in,” he says in a deep, British accent, stepping to the side.

We step into the room, my eyes landing on the man’s for longer than needed.

The room is spacious and very luxurious. I’m surprised at how much furniture there is. Most people who are hiding don't have many possessions.

The decorations are mostly dark blue and black or silver. There is a bed and a couch to the right, a dresser to the left, and a table and cabinet right in front of us.

“You’re safe here. I’ve been here for years and I haven’t been found,” the man, who I assume is Brandon, says, walking over to the cabinet.

He pulls it open and takes out a bag of pretzels. He sets them on the table and sits down, my brother to the right of him. I sit across from Hunter.

“So you’re Julia, yes?” Brandon asks, opening the bag of pretzels.

“Correct. And you’re Brandon,” I reply, watching him.

We sit there for a long moment of silence before my brother breaks it.

“Well, I know we just got here, but I am exhausted. I’m going to bed.” He stands up and lays down on the bed.

“Night,” I say, getting no response other than snoring.

Once we are sure that he is asleep, both Brandon and I smile slightly at each other.

Little does my brother know that I have met this friend of his before. We were at a store and he said I looked like someone he knew, Hunter. So we talked and ended up hanging out, getting each other’s phone numbers, and becoming friends…or maybe more.

“I’ve missed you,” he w

hispers so my brother won’t hear.

“I’ve missed you too,” I whisper back.

We stand up and kiss and for the first time in a while, since this whole crazy story started, I finally feel content.