The Lie Page 27

  When Harlow saw it she said, “Wow, that’s really pretty. When are you getting it appraised?”

  I was like, “You mean for insurance purposes?”

  And we all laughed and then I was like, “Maybe later today if anyone wants to come with me.”

  Harlow was like, “Yeah, I’ll go.”

  I was going to ask Andrea if she wanted to come, but I thought that might be like rubbing it in her face even more than I already had. So I figured if she wanted to go she would.

  I set up an appraisal appointment and that afternoon I skipped my child behavior class and went to Robbins Bros. with Gina, Harlow, Mandy, and Sarah. The ride there was seriously like almost as much fun as actually getting proposed to. We were all like singing to Justin Timberlake and everything and it was just really fun for us all. And that ride in that car was pretty much like the very last thing I did while I was still in love with Kyle.

  We went into the store and I found the lady I had talked to on the phone earlier that day and I showed her my ring. And it didn’t even take her like two seconds of looking at it to be like, “Oh honey, I…”

  I was like, “What?”

  She was like, “Honey, that’s…your ring isn’t a diamond. It’s a cubic zirconia.”

  I swear to fucking God, I wished a terrorist would have done a suicide bomb in that Robbins Bros. at that very moment.

  I mean can you imagine? I was there with four of my sorority sisters, basically like my closest friends on the planet, on what was supposed to be like the happiest day of my life, and right in front of them and the whole store, which had like two other people in it, I found out that my engagement ring wasn’t a diamond. I have never felt that mortified in my entire life and I’m sure I never will again because that’s the worst thing that anyone has ever done to me or will ever do to me.

  Seriously I would have rather had like one hundred abortions than to find out right in front of my sisters that my engagement ring wasn’t real. I just started crying, like worse than I’ve ever cried in my life. Harlow and Gina and everyone were really supportive. They all hugged me and told me it was going to be okay. Gina was even like, “Maybe Kyle didn’t know. Maybe he got ripped off,” which didn’t even really matter to me. The fact was still that my engagement ring was complete crap.

  The woman at Robbins Bros. was like, “I can still appraise it if you’d like.”

  For fucking real?

  I was like, “Uh…I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

  We all got back in my car and it was the worst drive home from anyplace that I’ve ever had in my life. Nobody said anything. I looked at like Harlow and Mandy in the backseat a few times and they were staring out the windows. They couldn’t even bring themselves to make eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.

  When we got back to the house, I just went to my room and shut the door. Harlow, Gina, Mandy, and Sarah started telling everyone the bad news, and so I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else I asked them to tell everyone that I just wanted to be left alone for a little while.

  Once I got to my room, I kind of figured out that I wasn’t really sad anymore. Instead, I was like seriously fucking furious. I hated Kyle’s guts more than anything. It was so weird that like the day right before that I had loved him more than anything in the world, but then it’s like I found out my love was all based on a lie, on his lie, and everything I felt for him just disappeared. When I thought about him all I felt was rage. I wanted to tear his fucking head off.

  chapter fifteen

  I hadn’t heard from Kyle since the night of the actual proposal. He called to tell me she accepted and he was engaged. He told me I was the second call he made after his parents, who he admitted were less than thrilled, as was I, although I congratulated him. It was only one day after that phone call, so I assumed he and Heather were more than likely so enamored with each other at that point that they wouldn’t be coming up for air anytime soon. Little did I, or anyone else for that matter, predict the hurricane of shit that was headed our way in the form of Heather’s unbridled anger.

  But one day before that hurricane of shit, I found myself at the Alpha Tau Omega house drinking to excess and listening to Greg talk about his postgraduation plans. He had interned at my father’s company the summer prior and I was aware that his ultimate goal was to acquire a junior position at a company in Dallas that was of a certain size and level of prestige in the business world and would inflate his already bloated sense of self-worth. It wasn’t until ten or fifteen minutes into his delivery of a monologue about how easy he assumed it would be to force anal sex on any female subordinate in the business world that he divulged he had acquired an offer for employment at my father’s company.

  Upon graduation he would be given the title of junior regional sales representative at Keller Shipping. I wasn’t fully aware of what that title entailed, but I assumed it would come with minimal responsibility and moderate compensation. Neither of these assumptions bothered me. The unalterable fact that Greg would be an employee at my father’s company, however, did more than just bother me. As I stood there drinking beer from a keg in the basement of the same frat house in which my father and his father before him had done the exact same thing, and watched Greg fist-bump the other members of Alpha Tau Omega whose fathers and fathers’ fathers had all done the same thing, I knew the chain had to be broken. The dull hatred I had developed for this meaningless repetition of the same lives led by different generations, and all the people who gave in to it, sharpened to a fine point in that moment and I knew that there was something I could do to alter the course, even if that alteration was slight.

  I could have withdrawn from it all. On that night I could have told my father that I wanted no part in the life he had manufactured for me from the plan of his father. I could have been done with it and never thought twice. But I felt some need to take firmer action as I watched Greg repeat what I was certain were the same actions of his predecessors—the shirtless chest-beating, the keg stands, the refusal even to entertain the idea of a unique experience, or worse yet the unyielding belief that each experience was unique, never even realizing he was merely mimicking those who had come before him. I could not sit by idly and watch it all happen again. I felt a need to destroy some piece of it all, was not content to just turn away. And on that night Greg was that piece.

  I knew that proximity to me was all that was really required for Greg to initiate what would become his own undoing and I was prepared to make the sacrifice that I knew would come with this course of action. A small circle of Alpha Tau Omegas had gathered around Greg, listening to his predictions of how fast he would rise through my father’s company and then eventually form his own or, at the very least, jump to another company as a VP of sales in less than three years’ time. They listened to him promise them all jobs under him at whatever company he chose to call his final home. They listened to him describe in detail all the cars he was going to own and where his first house would be located. I joined the circle and, as predicted, he filled me in on his new job, adding something in the phrasing that was subtly demeaning, something that let everyone in the room know he was technically my superior in Alpha Tau Omega and that, even after he graduated, he’d still hold some position over me, at least in his eyes, by being an employee of my father before I was. I failed to see the logic, but nonetheless set my plan in motion.

  I conceded that Greg was indeed the president of Alpha Tau Omega, and that he would indeed be employed at my father’s company at least a year before I would, and then I told him that there would be one thing I would always have over him. When he asked me what that was, I told him I meant the stink of his sister’s asshole on my dick. Everyone laughed, thinking this was a joke, until I produced the pictures—causing Greg to lose control and punch me in the face three times before I fell down, whereupon he proceeded to punch me several more times.

  No one had the wherewithal to know how to react, or—perhaps more disturbing—
no one cared to intervene, not sure who in the situation held more power and therefore who should be supported in the conflict. I offered no defense in the fight, knowing that with each successive strike to my face Greg made a fate for himself that was more and more inescapable.

  His rage subsided after a dozen or so strikes. I wasn’t unconscious but certainly wasn’t possessed of all my faculties. Even in that disconnected mental state I could tell that Greg had realized his error. He immediately began a flurry of apologies to me and begged me not to relay the events of the night to my father. I felt something so calm in that moment, so certain, that my only reaction to his begging was to promise him he was going to be better off, to tell him that he never really wanted to work for my father, that the life this event would eventually force him into living would be much more interesting and fulfilling. Then I got up off the ground and went to the bathroom to clean my face.

  The sad thing about Greg’s begging me not to tell my father was that he didn’t realize I never even had to tell him. Word of Greg’s attack on my person spread so fast, merely because I was my father’s son, that it seemed as though the entire campus was aware of it by morning, and by mid-afternoon the fathers of everyone who worked with my father knew about it, and then so too did my father. Greg’s prewritten future at Keller Shipping and consequently the connected events that would have been influenced by that position were all erased. This was my first step toward creating something for myself.

  chapter sixteen

  I knew something was up before Heather even came over that next morning. I tried to call her a few times the night before and she never called back. I thought that was pretty weird, considering we’d been engaged for less than forty-eight hours at that point, but I convinced myself that she’d probably been celebrating with her sorority sisters or something and was passed out drunk or just exhausted.

  I was at my apartment already, and I knew she got out of class at four, so I took a shower and was hoping we could have sex as soon as she walked in the door. Instead I got the opposite of sex.

  She walked in and said, “You fucking asshole. How could you?”

  I honestly had no idea what she was talking about based on how enraged she seemed. In my mind the fact that her ring was a cubic zirconia wouldn’t have warranted the reaction she was having.

  I said, “What’s wrong?”

  Then I noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring, and it really was like in the movies, when everything starts moving in slow motion because the main character realizes he’s about to be in a world of shit. My head started throbbing, my heart pounded, I broke out in a cold sweat—the whole nine.

  When she took the ring out of her pocket and said, “This is what’s wrong, you piece of shit,” then threw it at me, I thought it was best to just tell the truth. How mad could she be? Turns out, pretty fucking mad.

  I said, “I didn’t have enough money to get the real thing, but once I got the money I was going to replace it, or even get you a bigger one. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

  She said, “Not that big of a deal? Do you realize I went to have it appraised with four of my sisters? Do you know how embarrassing it was to sit there and have like this old lady tell me my ring was fake?”

  I said, “You had it appraised? Why?”

  She said, “For insurance purposes. It’s like what you’re supposed to do.”

  I said, “Really?”

  She said, “Yes, you idiot. Maybe if you had known that you would have actually not been so cheap and gotten me a real ring.”

  I said, “So cheap? Heather, I have no money. It wasn’t a matter of being cheap. More than anything I wanted to ask you to be my wife. What else was I supposed to do with no money?”

  She said, “Uh…get a second job or something. I don’t know. That’s not my problem. My problem is that I’m basically like the laughingstock of the whole school.”

  I said, “But it’s just a ring. I’m sure no one cares. It’s just supposed to be a symbol anyway. Two nights ago, when I gave it to you, you were the happiest girl in the world.”

  She said, “That’s when I thought it was a real diamond.”

  I said, “But that’s what I’m saying to you, it doesn’t matter if it’s real or not. All that matters is that I gave it to you and it means that we’re engaged. That’s what made you happy, right? It wasn’t the fact that you thought it was a real diamond, was it?”

  She said, “It doesn’t even matter what made me so happy. It’s all completely fucked up now.”

  I said, “I really am sorry. I didn’t know it was going to be such a big deal.”

  She said, “Such a big deal? Kyle, it’s my fucking engagement ring. It’s basically like the biggest deal in a girl’s life and you turned it all into pure shit.”

  I tried to hug her but she pushed me away and said, “Don’t touch me.”

  I said, “Come on, I’ll get you a real ring if you want one. It’s not going to be as big or as nice, and you might have to wait until next year sometime, but I’ll save up and I’ll get you one.”

  She said, “You don’t get it, do you?”

  I said, “I guess not. What’s the deal?”

  She said, “The deal is, asshole, we’re through.”

  I actually thought I misheard her. The idea that she was dumping me—the guy who only two days before she had loved more than anything in the world—because I’d given her a cubic zirconia instead of an actual diamond was beyond insane to me. I really did believe that she loved me and that what would make her happy was being engaged to me. I thought that’s all that mattered to her. But as I stood there looking at her eyes, so full of hate for me I could feel it, I realized she never really gave a shit about me through any of it.

  I had once had a suspicion that she’d started dating me to get close to Brett. I got over that. When we got back together after the breakup, I assumed it was because she had real feelings for me, because she loved me. But in that moment when I looked at the ring I’d bought her lying on the floor at my feet, I knew she’d gotten back together with me because I was just the easiest means to a desirable end. She wasn’t even crying.

  Even if there’s animosity between people when a relationship ends, it seems like if they had feelings for one another, actual feelings, there should be crying for the loss of something that was good for at least a little while. Heather didn’t cry once that night. She just stared at me like I’d shat on her pillow.

  I said, “You’re breaking up with me over this?”

  She said, “What else am I supposed to do?”

  I said, “Marry me like you said you would two days ago.”

  She said, “Kyle, that ring—I mean, our entire relationship is based on that ring and the ring is a lie.”

  I said, “That ring has only been in our relationship for two fucking days. It’s impossible for our relationship to be based on it.”

  She said, “No, Kyle, it’s like that ring is what the entire relationship was about—you know like getting to the point where you would give it to me. And that point is fake, it’s a lie. It’s not like we can go on from this point and just pretend this didn’t happen.”

  I said, “The ring doesn’t fucking matter. We love each other.”

  She said—and this was the one that really fucking killed me—she said, “No, Kyle, I loved the guy who gave me a diamond ring. I hate the one who gave me a fucking cubic zirconia.” Then she walked out.

  I wanted to puke, shit my pants, stab myself in the heart with an ice pick, anything that would make me feel something different than what I was feeling. In my head I went through the entire sequence of events that had to happen to lead to Heather dumping me, and I blamed myself for making the wrong choice in every case. I should have listened to Brett when he said to wait. I should have just bought a cheap diamond ring. I should have asked my parents for help. I should have taken out a loan. There were so many things I could have done to keep her and I did none of them.
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  I sat on my couch and cried that night. I know it’s more gay than anything I had done up to that point, but I fucking cried my eyes out. I really thought I was lucky enough to find the girl who was the one for me; then I was lucky enough to get her; then, even after we broke up, I was lucky enough to get her back. After all the shit we had been through I still felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. But after that night I was positive about two things. I realized the Heather I loved, the one I thought loved me, never really existed. She was always just putting up some kind of smoke screen. And, even worse, Heather was gone forever. And, even though I knew she wasn’t the girl I thought she was, that was the worst feeling in the fucking world, so I cried.

  chapter seventeen

  I seriously went through like all the same stages a person goes through when somebody dies. At first I like denied that the ring was fake, then I like accepted it, and then I got seriously pissed off, and then I thought dumping Kyle would make me accept everything and move on, but it didn’t.

  The next morning after I broke up with him I came downstairs into the kitchen and pretty much all of my sisters were there. They all found out what happened and they were all actually really nice, Andrea especially. I guess because we were going through basically the exact same thing, except she didn’t get humiliated in a Robbins Bros. But on the flip side I guess I was still a junior so I still had a little bit of time to try and find somebody. She only had a semester left. But it wasn’t like the extra year was all that much. We all knew who the eligible guys were that were floating around the dating pool and they were all still eligible for a reason. They kind of like all sucked.

  Anyway, everyone had made me a cake and gotten me cards and flowers and everything and they were all just really nice about the whole thing. Even Jenna was like, “I don’t care how good he is in bed, I wouldn’t fuck him now if he was the last guy on earth.” I thought that was sweet.