saccharine

i sometimes lie.

actually, no, i lie all the time.
i lie in the morning, i lie during the day, i lie at night.
i lie to mom and dad, my friends, my teachers, you.
about everything.
about my homework, about the last butterfinger in the cabinet.
about the scars on my arms, about the stains in my shirts.
and about that time i went over to tyler's house, that one time last summer on the day when you and mom went over to wal*mart to buy white-out or something like that, remember?
when i got home and mom asked me what we did, and i said 'oh, the usual. played some video games, had fast food, talked, you know how it is'?
yeah, lie.

"you interrupt me at this point, ask me what really happened that day, and i just shrug and try to avoid your eyes, because you know."

so basically tab a went into slot b.

"you raise an eyebrow, the awkward silence in the room is tangible. a few seconds pass before you lean back into the couch and start to stare at the ceiling. 'well,was it good for you?' you ask, and i just shake my head."

not the point.
so basically yeah, tyler and i fucked. just once. won't happen again.

"maybe, i add mentally. for what it's worth, he wasn't too bad at it, after all. you shake your head, mumble something about how i'm way too young for him. this. sex."

sixteen.

"i almost regret saying that one single word right after it leaves my mouth. sixteen. other sixteen-year-old girls don't accidentally have sex with their best friend. other sixteen-year-old girls don't shove their fingers down their throats in hopes that maybe, if they do it for long enough, they'll stop looking like.. well.. girls. other sixteen-year-old-girls don't have any problems with the idea of looking at themselves in the mirror. other sixteen-year-old-girls actually tell the truth at times."

well yeah, i lie. a lot.
actually, not really. it's not that we didn't play video games or talk or have fast food that day, you know?
i didn't lie to mom and dad about that, i just told them the truth and left out the bit where we had sex.
like when you have visitors over and lock the doors to your bedroom because they're not supposed to see what's in there, you know what i mean?
yeah, it's like that.

"you cock your head to one side, then scratch at your chin before speaking. 'why', you just say, it's not really a question, more of a statement, as if you didn't really expect me to explain."

i don't like telling the truth. it's usually just admitting how much of an ass you are, and well.. i really just want to hide the ass parts of myself. you know what i mean, right?

"'ashley', you say, 'you're sixteen years old. sixteen. stop it.' sixteen, i repeat in my head. too young for tyler. too old for lying."

i can't.
i just lie all the time. about everything.
about my grades, about tyler, about my fingernails, about taking out the dogs.
i lie to everyone.

"but mostly, i lie to myself. especially late at night , when the lights are off and i can't see or hear the rest of the world, and i tell myself that this is right, i don't need help, god doesn't fuck up.
because i'm sixteen, god dammit, and at that age you just have to deal with things the way they are."