The Lies we Steal (The Hollow Boys Book 1)

Briar

Black and gold, colors of extravagance, riches and mystery is noticed everywhere. It’s the school’s signature colors and could not be more fitting. I wander down the hallways of ornate decoration. Tall arched kaleidoscopic windows that gave me vertigo with how the light dazzled through them. Everything around me felt…expensive.  

I saw groups of girls huddled together as they walked past me, arm in arm giggling about something funny. Their heels clicked in synch, each with their hair braided neatly down their back. Lost in their own world. Ada squeaks in my pocket, nudging her head out, only to hide again when I duck for a ball that was launched over my head, turning sharply to see a guy catch it with a lacrosse stick. He raises his arms in celebration, as his friends trample past me knocking into my shoulder chuckling and high-fiving each other. 

Another girl was handing out fliers for a debate team, her pressed plaid skirt and sweater vest told me she probably wanted to do something important in life. I felt so outside of my element, like I was just a shadow in their lives. 

I mean it wasn’t their fault they are born into wealth and I wasn’t. 

This wave of understanding, of realization hits me as I walk through these winding corridors, through the pointing arches and up a flight of embellished stairs. My headphones dug inside my ears, vibrating. 

No one here knows me. 

Not a single soul knows who I am. 

I made my way through classmates, I shifted and moved through the reuniting hugs from sophomores. Barely noticed, not because I was weird or being ignored, because I was new. 

I reached the room all the way at the end of the third floor. Tucked on the left, the gold numbers, 127 on the front. My hand grabbed the doorknob, right after someone tapped on my shoulder. I pluck my headphone from my left ear, music still blasting in my right.

“Yeah?” I ask, looking at the tall, pretty blonde with super white teeth. There is a soccer ball tucked underneath her arm, and she’s popping her gum, over and over again. 

“Lizzy Flannigan,” She shoves her free hand out towards me.

I return it, “Briar, uh,” I pause not knowing why we are introducing ourselves with last names, “Lowell.”

Nerves bubble in my stomach. Fear of automatic rejection that usually comes attached to my last name.

“Hmmm, never heard of Lowell before. Anyway, it’s Flannigan as in Flannigan oil. Yeah, my dad owns it, pretty cool. I just wanted to give you a little heads-up before you entered the bug palace.” She nods her head towards my dorm, popping a bubble as she does. 

A breath of relief passes through my lips, like I said, they don’t know me here. 

“Bug palace?” I ask, deflecting the attention away from myself. 

A place this nice had a bug problem? Maybe if they stopped paying so much for the mowers to make perfect checkered patterns they could get an exterminator. 

Budgeting goes a long way, ya know? 

“Yeah. Sucks for you, but you’re rooming with Lyra Abbott. Super weird goth chick with an obsession with nasty bugs, you’re welcome to hang with us in the student lounge if you don’t want to be in there. You might even be able to get a roommate swap.” She rocks on her heels, back and forth. 

I get this feeling Lizzy is being nice because she hasn’t found a reason to be either A. Threatened by me. Or B. Hasn’t sniffed out my weakness. 

I like to make my own assumptions about people and I’d like to do that about my own roommate. 

“Thanks for the warning. I think I can handle it though.” 

Texas has rattlesnakes, I think I can handle some bugs. I start to turn away from her when she speaks up again. 

“Anyway,” She sighs, “I’m supposed to hand these out to all the freshmen.” She hands me a black flier, “It’s a homecoming party. Jason Ellis is hosting it this year, which means his parents are out of town on business, so we have their entire estate to rave on.” This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I’d never been invited to a party before, let alone gone to one. I’m sure people in my high school had them, I just never went. This felt like a step towards the right direction.

I wondered what parties here would be like? From what I’d heard, rich kids loved to get into things they shouldn’t. Something about having everything they could ever want, but still needing more. 

“Sounds cool. Thanks for the invite.” I say coolly. 

“Are you like, a local? Or from one of those big monopoly families on the east coast? I’ve never seen you before.” She tilts her head, eyeing me up and down. Taking me in. 

Here it is, she’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or just another weird chick she can gossip about to her friends.  

“Um, no,” I shake my head, “I’m from Texas.” 

“Ohhhh, southern money huh? That’s dope.” 

I open my mouth, wanting to correct her, I don’t want to give her a false impression. I’m not ashamed of being poor. Fighting for what you have just shows strength. There’s nothing I need to feel embarrassed about. 

“Lizzy! Let’s go!” Someone hollers from down the hallway, 

“That’s my cue, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” She offers. 

“Ugh, sure thing, yeah, totally.” I stutter over my response, smiling a little. 

Finally opening the door to my dorm, all I want to do is drop down on the mothball scented mattress and cover myself with the scratchy comforter I bought from Walmart.

“Yeah, sure thing, totally… What a fucking idiot.” I mimic myself, wanting to smash my head into a wall for being so awkward. 

Ada started moving around in my hoodie pocket, meaning she was ready to get settled into her new cage. Thomas had moved some of my stuff inside before I’d arrived, he thought it would make my transition a little easier. 

Two matching twin beds on opposite sides of the dorm, a desk at the end for each of the students inside. I waltz to the desk, opening the medium sized cage filled with ropes, toys, and bridges, letting Ada go inside so she can get used to her new surroundings. 

I take my time looking at her decor. I am now aware of why they call it the bug palace. Her walls are full of glass boxes and posters of dead bugs. Mostly beetles and butterflies, but I’m pretty sure I spot a spider there somewhere. 

I hear the toilet flush, just as I turn seeing the bathroom door open. Out walks my roommate, wearing bright red rain boots that are caked with soggy mud, drying her hands on a paper towel. 

We don’t speak for a second, she takes me in just like I am her. Her frizzy brown hair that’s trying to hide underneath a black leather bucket hat, the pieces of her straight across bangs popping out a bit. I note the oval, amber ring on her pointer finger that looks like it has some type of bug trapped inside of it. 

“It’s dead.” She says, catching me staring at it, she wiggles her finger, before pointing at the ones on the wall, “All of them are dead. So you don’t have to worry about anything crawling around on you at night.” 

The way she says it makes me think she’s had to say those words before or she’s used to defending her hobby. She likes bugs and I steal things, who am I judge? 

“They don’t bother me,” I say, scanning the room, laughing a bit. “I mean the spiders are a little creepy, but it’s kinda cool. I’ve never met anyone who’s collected them before.”

A little weight falls off her shoulders, a pretty smile breaking across her face as she reaches her recently cleaned hand towards me, “I’m Lyra. It’s called entomology. The study of bugs, but I’m mostly a lepidopterist nowadays, just butterflies and moths, minus a few beetles.” 

Ah, just first names. What a good start. 

“Briar. Kinda jealous I don’t have a cool hobby. Is there a reason for it? Or have you always just liked bugs?” I return the handshake with a smile. 

“I have a thing for dead stuff. It’s a long story, so Briar Lowell, right? I heard you talking to Lizzy.” She starts walking towards her side of the room as she keeps talking, “Princess of the oil industry. Four-year state soccer champion, graduated fourth in our class and she pushed her best friend in a pool at senior prom by accident, because she accidentally wore the same color as her.” The words accidentally are used in finger quotations. 

“So, she’s the queen bee around these parts then?” I toss my stuff on the bed, sitting on the springy mattress. I was trying to not be judgmental, but Lizzy gave me the vibes of the kind of girl you were friends with only because you didn’t want her as an enemy. 

“That’s the thing about Ponderosa Springs.” She follows my movements on her own bed, kicking her boots off. “Other places have one Regina George. Here, there is never just one. Every piece of the hierarchy has their own mean girl, the jocks, have Lizzy. Nerds have Emily Jackville, future aerospace engineer. Art nuts have Yasmine Poverly, daughter of not one but two art tycoons, and is said to have swirls like Picasso. Or whatever that means.” 

“This place is just every teenagers dream huh?” I joke sarcastically. 

She snorts, “Basically.” 

“So, how do you know all of this? Are you local?” 

Twirling the ring on her finger and staring at the ceiling, she answers, “Yeah. Ponderosa Springs born and raised. I’m not from a crazy wealthy family, so for me that means I’m a ghost. I’m not really bullied but no one talks to me either. I don’t benefit anyone so I’m not included. I just kinda float around this place, watching everyone else.” She turns her head to look at me, “Anything you need to know about this place and the people who live here, I probably already know about it.” 

I nod, “I know what that’s like. Being invisible, it’s easier that way when you know the alternative. Back home, I didn’t have many friends either.” 

“Welcome to the loner society, Briar Lowell. I’m the president, but there is an opening for a VP.” 

I laugh, leaning up and sitting with my legs crossed. Loner Society party of two. I liked the sound of that. Having a friend, being a part of something. I bend down, grabbing the flier Lizzy had given me. 

My fingers graze the thick paper, reading the words over and over again. 

When I was in middle school, I got invited to a sleepover birthday party. Nothing big, just a few girls from my English class. I’d never been over to anyone’s house before and I was stupid to get excited. 

Long story short, my fun ended after mani-pedis when my dad got busted trying to rob a bank. It was all over town within a matter of seconds and I’d quickly gone from Briar, quiet girl in English. To Briar Lowell, trailer park trash whose daddy stole to get by. 

I was told to leave the party that night. 

And I never talked about it again. 

But things are different here. No one recognizes my last name. No one knows who I am. I can be whoever I want. There is no limit. I no longer have to be a criminal prodigy with a stained reputation. 

I no longer have to be the outsider. To conceal myself so I can steal things because everything here is already paid for. All because I was worried about the lights being shut off or not having food on the table. 

I wanted a life I didn’t just have to survive. 

One I could enjoy. 

And I knew just how to start.