Liar, Liar: Chapters 10–14

“It was kind of a joke.” I tried to explain. “See, my best friend is always weirding out about health things and I kind of had improbable illnesses on my mind because it’s all he ever talks about, so I—”
“Whatever.”

I remembered part of a coded message that the English used on the radio during World War II to alert the French Resistance to rise up against the German occupation: “...wound my heart with a monotonous languor.”

I remembered part of a coded message that the English used on the radio during World War II to alert the French Resistance to rise up against the German occupation: “...wound my heart with a monotonous languor.”

The only downside was that a one-size-fits-all letter wasn’t going to cut it. I was going to have to write specific letters to everyone.

Luckily, I’ve always been a very articulate and persuasive guy. I’d never needed either quality as much as I would now, though.

I apologized my miserable butt off. I confessed. Acknowledged. Asked for forgiveness. And promised to change my ways. I pretty much groveled.

I don’t know why the popular phrase is truth or consequences, when it’s really more like lies and repercussions.

I apologized for the MENTAL AGONY (her words) that I’d put her through and expressed my remorse that she was BESIDE HERSELF.

I apologized for the MENTAL AGONY (her words) that I’d put her through and expressed my remorse that she was BESIDE HERSELF.

“I don’t mean to interrupt when you’re...meditating,” I said quietly and, I hoped, peacefully so that I wouldn’t ruin her calm mood, “but I want to volunteer to work on the musical.”

They were standing in the living room, trying to be casual, as if we habitually stand around together in the same room and it’s nothing to be alarmed about.

“This was a blessing in disguise,” Dad continued, but from Mom’s glance at him, I saw that he had gone off-script and was improvising.

“Now—Kevin. We got some calls from your school,” he said. “We really need to talk about that. Buzz called too. I couldn’t understand a word because she was talking faster than normal and that’s really saying something, but she’s upset with you. And Daniel and Sarah have an interesting story about how they came to forfeit their car keys...."

“I’m impressed by your initiative,” Mom said, “but that’s not going to get you out of the punishment your father and I have been talking about.”

“You’ll appreciate each other more,” Dad said. “The age difference will matter less and less.” Sarah and Daniel and I exchanged dubious glances.

I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner and was shocked to discover it was only four-thirty. I’d really packed a lot of revelation into one short day.

A Good Lie is an Oxymoron

The paper I wrote for Crosby was about dishonesty in politics in the twenty-first century. I thought he’d appreciate the irony. I sure did.

Katie narrowed her eyes when she saw me in the hall, and radiated loathing.

Katie narrowed her eyes when she saw me in the hall, and radiated loathing.

But maybe, I thought, she won’t wind up swindled by a con man someday because of having known me. There’s got to be a silver lining somewhere.

But maybe, I thought, she won’t wind up swindled by a con man someday because of having known me. There’s got to be a silver lining somewhere.

“I read up on debating over the weekend. And I made an outline for us to follow and another of points to rebut our opponent’s likely arguments. I put myself in his shoes and then worked backward to strengthen our position.”

Dutchdeefuddy’s parents came over Sunday afternoon to tell me they’re officially splitting up. But Markie’s getting the house in the divorce settlement; he’ll stay put and his parents will move in and out according to their allotted time with him.

Mom finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird to us and hauled out James Michener’s The Source. “It’s a watershed book,” she said. “You’ll love it.”