Liar Read Online Free PDF Page A

triggered some kind of strange psychological reaction. An instantaneous reaction.
    I saw my dad.
    Of course it wasn’t. It could have more easily been her mysterious uncle. But her instincts screamed that it wasn’t her uncle; it was her dad.
    Her throat clenched. She stared hard at her face in the mirror. Her pupils were two black holes. Empty.There were no answers there. Either she had seen him or … she hadn’t. But if—
    â€œGaia?” Ella’s voice shattered her thoughts.
    Oh, please.
“What?” she yelled.
    â€œIs everything okay?” came the muffled question.
    Gaia frowned. As if Ella even cared. What was
with
her today? Why couldn’t she just drop the concerned-mom act? It was even more nauseating than the doting wife she played with George.
    â€œGaia?”
    â€œEverything’s
fine,”
she snapped.
    There was a pause. “Well, okay … I’m just stepping out for a minute to get some wine for dinner. All right?”
    â€œKnock yourself out,” Gaia muttered.
    She shook her head and turned away from her reflection. This whole day was beginning to freak her out:
    She was hallucinating—seeing her father while being mown down by a car.
    Ella was pretending to care.
    Sam was hanging out by her house.
    Gaia swallowed. What was that about, anyway? Maybe Sam had come to tell her that he’d broken up with Heather. Maybe he’d come to explain all the weird stuff that happened between them, to forgive her for acting like such a bitch the last time he’d seen her, and to tell her he wanted to hang out, just go to a movie or something—
    â€œOh, no!” she cried out loud.
    Movie.
She thought of Ed, sitting alone in the Blockbuster, fuming as he waited for Gaia to show up. Her bruised shoulders sagged. Well. This was just great. Not only did she look like shit—she felt like it, too.

Bitch Supreme
    â€œSO WHAT DO YOU THINK?” HEATHER asked. “Should we go with pizza or popcorn?”
    Ed shrugged. “Um … actually, I’m not really all that hungry,” he mumbled.
    Heather opened her mouth, then closed it. Maybe inviting Ed over here wasn’t the greatest idea. He looked so odd, sitting
next
to the couch in his wheelchair—not
on
it with her. The last time he’d been here, a few days ago, they’d avoided the living room altogether. They’d stuck to the kitchen. In retrospect, Heather realized it was probably because of the memories associated with this particular room.
Especially
this particular couch. They had always used to snuggle into the big, soft brown cushions, arms and legs intertwined … as close as theycould be. It was kind of ironic, in a way: They used to spend evenings here under the guise of “watching movies.” At least that’s what they’d told Heather’s parents. Needless to say, they rarely took the movies out of their boxes.
    But this time they
would
watch the movie.
    Heather gulped painfully.
    Ed was staring at the blank screen, fidgeting.
    â€œEd, what’s wrong?” Heather murmured. “Is being here bumming you out?”
    He shook his head and cast a quick smile at her, then lowered his eyes. “No, no, it’s not that at all. I’ve always loved your mom’s tacky neopostmodern artwork.”
    Heather smirked. Good old Ed. At least he could be counted on to use humor as a defense mechanism.
That
hadn’t changed.
    â€œSo what is it?” she asked.
    He turned to her again, then drew in his breath. His expression was hard to read—tentative, almost. “Well, for one thing, I’m going to have to see my sister on Sunday,” he said. “Which I’m definitely
not
psyched about.”
    Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Victoria? Why do you have to see her? What’s going on?”
    Ed shrugged. “She’s getting married.”
    â€œReally?”
Heather exclaimed.