Title: Lies

Written By: Summer

Improv (words by Sarah): hate... pain... love... friend... life

Date Published: 11.27.2004

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or any ideas presented on the show, or the actions of said characters. I'm not profiting off of this in any idea, whether it be financially or otherwise (cash, praise, whatever: I'm not requesting anything). Don't sue, please. Any commonalities between names mentioned here and a real life person are completely coincidental.

Author's Note: This story is supposed to reflect Rory's thoughts, sometime in the future. I hope it's understandable.

Your mother kisses your cheek nervously as she opens the door. She asks when you grew up, and you tell her you never did. You're lying, of course, and you think she knows.

The first time you lied to your mother you were six. It was been stupid, really. She'd asked you why you had colored all over your bedroom walls, and you'd looked up at her, feigning innocence, and told her you hadn't colored all over your walls, the purple crayon still between your thumb and index finger.

You lied to your father when you were nine. He'd promised you a porcelain doll you'd seen in a window display, but when you got to the register, his credit card was declined. He'd asked you if you were upset, and you'd shaken your head and smiled, trying to keep your bottom lip from trembling.

There'd been more lies after that. When Susie Gibbons had asked you if she was your best friend in fifth grade, you'd told her she was, your fingers crossed behind your back. Lane was your best friend, not Susie Gibbons. Susie was nice and all, but if she didn't have that big pool behind her house...

It wasn't until high school that you'd lied to yourself. You'd told yourself that you were happy with Dean, that no one else could compare. You'd even let yourself believe it. But you were confronted by all those lies in less than a minute, when he came back. And really, that's all it took, those simple words. "I moved back."

It's funny how life works sometimes. With something as simple as a "just wanted to," everything changed. You were in love.

Or at least you thought you were. You remember the day he left, the way he didn't even say goodbye. You remember your graduation and looking at his empty seat. You remember seeing your reflection as you looked at your new car, and seeing the pride in your mother's eyes, and the pain in your own.

The biggest lie, though, came a year later, when you lied to him. He asked you, point blank, if you thought you were supposed to be together. And you said no. It broke your heart, really, watching him fall apart right in front of your eyes. You hated yourself for it.

You wonder if you can ever redeem yourself. He knows now that you didn't mean it, and you're even back together. But you're more than that- you're friends.

Ten minutes from now your relationship will be redefined again. You thought you'd be more nervous than this, but you don't even have butterflies. In fact, you've never been more sure of anything in your life.

As you take your father's arm, you wonder how many more lies you'll have to tell in this lifetime. You know there won't be any today, at least, because you wrote the vows yourself.