The Lie

The drive back home wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I was used to the plane rides, places of conformed tight knit spots and the easiness of getting lost in thought. A one hour plane ride felt like peace. 

But this four hour drive was hell; open, observed and too self aware. 

Back home I was made aware of the fame I procured at the end of high school, a bitter and not so rewarding situation. In the city where I lived most of the time I was able to seep away as best I could into the crowds, making the paparazzi who did find me few and far between. Not that it made my personal life easy. There was always something new being printed in the paper every other week. 

Here… well here I was seen. By everyone. 

All old classmates who I grew up with felt like a faux fur jacket, real enough to the passing eye but once you sat down with it in your hands, it was made clear how superficial it all was.

I was no longer a friend one looked forward to, but a gossip piece, a spectacle everyone waited for to arrive. 

Miranda was the one to meet me that afternoon, she was the closest of the faux fur coats I called a friend. 

She waved erratically at me from the outdoor seating of the café as I parallel parked along side the already packed street. She had on a bright blue sleeveless Tweed dress, her once brown hair was now bleached an unnatural colour; her make-up not quite suiting her skin tone properly, it was as if she watched a Instagram model's video and tried to follow along.

I gave a small wave back hoping my smile didn’t look too insincere. Taking in a deep breath I grabbed my purse and got out to meet with her at the wooden table. 

“OH MY GOD!!” Her voice a little too loud, “It’s Miss Legend here again!!”

I smiled again sitting down, a waiter came over and took our order. She wouldn’t stop looking around us, her eyes too eager. That’s when I realized she had done herself up, she was hoping for the paparazzi. 

“Hey Miranda” trying to sound as cheerful as possible. 

“So tell me, how’s the big city?” Her grin was like a wolf’s

“It’s fine I guess. The job I have up there isn’t too bad either…”

I could feel it, the tension; it hadn’t been five minutes and she already was impatient. I knew what she wanted to talk about. 

Sure enough she went right over what I replied to her with. 

“So like… do you feel bad?” she had her hands tucked under her chin, eyes boring into mine. 

“For?”

“You know!! Getting the Dean in trouble!” again, voice a little too loud. 

I shook my head, annoyed. 

“I’ve told you Miranda, I wasn’t the one..”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her had at me “But come on!! If you had, which we all know you did you rascal, do you feel like, any regret or whatever?”

“Well no. I mean I feel bad for his wife and children given the circumstances, him being a creep and all. I’d hate to find out my dad was being… well inappropriate with kids.”

“Did you like, get to talk to the family?”

“No, and I don’t plan on it. And again Miranda, I know you think that was me but truly it wasn’t. It was some freak coincidence, I was called to the front office and someone ran out the door and dropped a USB on the floor, by the time I went to pick it up the Dean was rushing out as well and tackled me to the ground.” 

The cops had shown up shortly after and arrested him, I gave them the USB. Figuring it had to be why he attacked me. All he kept screaming was his didn’t do it. I left that day with a bloody lip and a major interview with the media frenzy outside the school. Dazed and confused I just told my side and thought it would go away after that. 

But the next morning I woke up to the news blaring how I had helped in the arrest of the Dean of our high school, having shared very incriminating evidence. 

When they took me to the station I tried to tell them I wasn’t the one, I barely had any idea of what was even happening but when I denied ownership they provided me a print of the files, and sure enough my name was printed at the top, labeled as my personal property. 

And I mean the situation wasn’t a bad one per say, the Dean was a pedophile and now confirmed rapist, so him being taken down was a big deal and the town having someone to praise was even better. So it’s not like the fame I acquired was bad… I just couldn’t figure out how it ended up being in my name when I had nothing to do with it. 

But my confession wasn’t enough. Everyone in town, even my parents just thought I was being humble, trying to downplay my ‘achievement'.

We spent the rest of lunch in pointless banter. Sure enough the first paparazzi came by, fulfilling what I anticipated by Miranda’s dress up. 

The last half of my day I had to run an errand at the local law firm, my lawyer had some news that I guess couldn’t be discussed over the phone, thus my drive into town. 

It was the largest building here, eight stories high, slate gray walls, chic and boring architecture. 

As I got onto the elevator a woman my age got on with me. 

“What floor?” She asked

“Eight, thank you.”

She clicked eight and six. 

A few seconds of silence was interrupted by the sudden clash of files on the floor. We both scrambled to retrieve them. I caught a glimpse. It was of the Dean. 

“How does it feel?” she asked suddenly

Prepared for the onslaught, I replied

“It’s okay I guess…”

“Oh no honey, I mean how does it feel to have no one believe you?”

I snapped up, looking directly at her, the face registered slowly. This was Kate, from art class. She had a reputation growing up for lying for attention. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. How does it feel to be believed as something you’re not?”

I stared at her, confused, then at the door, it had been long enough to make it to the sixth floor, but I guess in the frenzy she placed the elevator on the emergency pause. 

“You know, everyone believed I was some liar in school, making up thing here and there for pity points. But the irony was, I was really telling the truth about everything. And you were the one person I thought who would believe me that night. But instead, you laughed at me.”

“What are you… when was that?”

“The night of Miranda’s birthday, you were drunk, we all were. I had too much, trying to drown out what happened that day, when I saw you in the corner, with all your long black hair and bright doe eyes. And I thought that maybe you’d believe me when I told you about the Dean. But you didn’t. You rolled your eyes and laughed. For three days you talked about it in class looking towards me. I had never seen you that way before and it angered me…”

“So?” I pressed, angry now. 

“So that day I set you up. I had the USB I was going to turn into the police to prove he was a creep and not just with me. But I knew no one would believe me. So I changed the name to yours, posed as Mrs. Grace, and called you to the office. Sure enough just as I was finished with threatening him you showed up, and all I had to do was place you in the situation. I didn’t think you’d get punched though…”

“You’re the one who ran out the room?”

“Indeed”

“But.. Why?”

“Because I needed the truth out and I wanted you to know how it felt to not be believed by anyone. Tell me, is it hard, your life I mean?”

All I felt was not fire in my chest, tears threatening to well up. 

“Yes, I can’t exactly have a relationship, not with being followed around all the time, the last few I had dumped me. It’s been very lonely.”

“Hmm” she gave a small laugh and pressed the release on the elevator. 

“You know I can tell the police” my voice hard 

She laughed loudly, throwing me off

“And what? It’s not going to change anything, the freak is serving his sentence and it’s been five years. If anything they’ll call you crazy.”

I hung my head, suddenly hit by the guilt

“I’m sorry Kate… I’m really sorry for not listening.”

“All is forgiven, you’re living your punishment everyday as it is.” The elevator dinged, and she stepped out the doorway. “ Have a nice day.”

Scrubbing the tears off my face I took in a breath as I neared the eight floor. My lawyer met me at the door, excitement in his eyes. 

“I have some great news!” he sat me down next to a gentleman. 

“This is Mr. Lawtum, he’s from a television company, and he’d like you to come on and give your account with what you experienced.”

He extended his hand, and finally I gave in, shaking his hand and taking on the fame I never wanted.