Page 24 of Little Liar

Now what the fuck do I do?

“We make a game of it.” She’s grinning, tipping her head, leaning back. “I ask you questions, and if you answer them honestly, I’ll take something off. If you don’t answer, or I know you’re lying, then you take something off.”

Shit.

Fine, ask me something.

Her few seconds of confidence slips as she hugs her knees. “Did you take drugs last night?”

I expected questions a little more… explicit. What the fuck is this?

And how the hell does she know?

Wait. What if she’s stalking me the same way I stalk her? What if she has cameras, hides in the shadows, and sneaks around to watch me dress and work out and even jerk off?

Yeah. Some of my friends were trying it, so I did too.I pinch the sleeve of her hideous sweater that would look better set on fire.Take this off first.

“I think I get to decide what item of clothing comes off first, thank you very much.” She’s smug as she kicks off her shoe. “And don’t take drugs. They’re bad for you—way worse than smoking cigarettes.”

The silent laugh shocks me. It’s unintentional, and I almost forget I’m terrified of what the fuck I’m doing right now.

Ultimately, I want her naked.

Then what?

“Do you remember how to talk?” she asks, her tone full of curiosity. “Like, do you know how to pronounce words and stuff?”

I haven’t heard myself speak in years. I tried once, and it felt unfamiliar, and I hated it. Trying to talk to myself in the mirror at the age of ten and needing to seek out my sister for comfort after isn’t something a guy my age should be proud of.

A little. I haven’t spoken out loud for a long time.

Her other shoe comes off.

“Is your voice deep?”

Mason asked me the same thing. His voice is deep, and so are the guys’ voices, so I assume mine would be too.

I think so.

Her sweater comes off, and I want to rip her shirt off too. It’s tight against her body, the curves I want to drag my tongue against, to hold on to while I shove deep.

“Can I hear it? Even just say my name. Or, like, laugh.”

No.

I draw closer, nudging her with my shoulder.You need to take something off.

“You said no, so you take something off.”

Would she hate me if I strangled her?

I answered your question honestly.

When she takes off her sock, I imagine all of her clothes in the fire outside, melting into nothing, while she lies exposed to me.

But then her next words catch me off guard.

“Do you see me as a sister? Because a lot of my friends have brothers and they’re… different than what we’re like together. I can’t imagine them cuddling in bed or playing this game, for example. So, yeah, am I a real sister to you?”