Tell Me More Lies

Chapter 3: Sierra's Past

The sound of my shoes hitting pavement was kind enough to offer me a sense of calmness while walking home from school. My father isn't back from work for another four hours so I don't rush, I hate being alone at home. Despite my mom being inside the house most of the time, her presence doesn't contribute much noise.

She checked out on us a long time ago. She was supposed to pick me up from school but since she's been bailing on me a hundred times, I don't expect a hundred and one to change.

But I don't mind. I like walking, it gives me peace. I sometimes like to run home from school, especially on Wednesdays when my father always comes home two hours earlier than the rest of the weekdays because I don't want Mom to get in trouble for not picking me up at school. I hate when they fight, they always tell me to go to my room, which was always pointless because the thin walls don't dampen the harsh words they hurl at each other.

I guess it was alright because at the end of the day my father always apologizes, but not before the lines on his forehead become prominent from the stress.

Walking home from school always seems to be the highlight of my day. I love walking through the neighborhood of Ridgewood Bay.

Except when I pass a particular house that always disrupts the quiet air.

They're at it again. 

Yesterday, Julian Pavlov, I think his name was, had locked his younger brother out of the house This time he was the one locked out. How the tables have turned.

Screams of laughter and agitation was becoming a common occurrence at the Pavlov household ever since they moved here two months ago.

"Elio, open the door. I'm not joking anymore." He pounds the door with much force his tiny fists could muster up.

He and I both attend the same school but had not once exchanged words. He's strange, doesn't talk to anyone in his class and is always warped in his own world. Then again, I guess, I'm strange too.

During recess he sits by himself behind the oak tree at the school's playground. The teacher would come and talk to him trying to coax him to socialize, but it was always a feeble attempt.

The long chord of his headphones dangle from his neck while he balanced a stack of textbooks in his arm.

Maybe I should throw him a bone, he does look like he needs the help.

"Are you okay?" I call out.

Either he doesn't hear me or he chose not to acknowledge my presence. By the way he stops short of scolding his brother from the other side of the door, I'm guessing the latter was likely.

I try again. "Do you need help?"

"Mind your own business." Rude.

"Why are you locked out of your house?"

"I said mind your own business!" Throwing his bag to the ground, he tries to kick the door open but was unsuccessful. Like that would work.

I think he made his point. If it were any other day I'd leave him alone but it's freezing out here and he isn't wearing any jacket. The tank top doesn't help warm him up either.

"I could—"

"Leave me alone!"

He's in a great mood today.

I frown at his unmannerly behavior. Fine, I'll leave him alone then. "I was gonna say that I know how to pick a lock. But if you want to fraternize with the cold weather then I'll leave you to it then. You don't have to be rude."

I turn back to the sidewalk. 

"Wait." I turn around and see him looking at me with shoulders slacking. "I changed my mind."

I smile to myself. My father always said not to be shy to ask for help. It meant acknowledging my imperfection and identifying the areas of myself that needs to grow.

I scale the small set of stairs that leads to his front door. I take out one of my hairpins that hold the front side of my hair up, a hairstyle that my mother always loved because it showed my face. On one of the rare occasions my mother does decide to greet the fresh breeze and morning sun, we would go to the mall and buy tons of hairpins and clips that would soon find temporary shelter on top of my mop head.

I can feel his stare following my movements as I bend the hairpin to a flat metal piece that I've seen multiple times on Youtube. I've only ever tried it on my door and my Dad's office but he caught me before I could manage to open it.

"I'm Sierra, by the way," I introduce myself to him.

"I know."

"You're Julian."

"Last I checked." I give him a smile that he surprisingly returns. His teeth were so white that it enhanced the handsome boyish look he possessed. 

He doesn't seem like the chatty type so I keep my mouth shut as I work on the knob. "Looks like your brother had his retribution." He looks at me weirdly. "I saw you yesterday."

Julian's brow shot up. "Are you stalking me?"

My eyes widen. "N-no. I-I usually take this road back home. You see, my mother was supposed to pick me up but she couldn't so I have to walk home by myself most of the time if my father couldn't, which is practically most of the time. B-but I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you, well, I mean you guys were so loud so I couldn't not help myself, but, wait. No, it's totally my fault, I'm sor—"

"I was just kidding, stutter." He doubles over laughing like I had just told the joke of the year.

I look at him weirdly. This was the first I saw Julian with an expression other than apathetic. "My name is Sierra."

"You should've seen your face." He wipes a tear from his eyes.

I let a small smile escape. I like it when someone laughed. I don't get to hear that much often.

I continue working on the door until I hear a small click. Yes. 

I twist the knob and it opens. He and I both share an appalling look that suggests he wasn't fully invested in the idea that I could do it. Even I didn't think I could do it.

He brush past me and shoves the door open but it does not budge. Little above the door knob, I see a latch that prevents the door from opening all the way.

"Elio! I swear if don't open this door I'm going to kick your ass."

"You're gonna kick it either way. See you in an hour." I can hear Elio's feet thudding as he ran up the stairs.

Julian sighs heavily, the playful look was gone. He plops down on one of the stairs giving up.

"Have you tried the back? Maybe we could get in through the backyard," I suggest.

"Tried it. Elio even barricaded the doggy door."

I look around. "How about that room? We could try climbing the tree."

He shrugs. "Elio thought of it first yesterday. It wasn't stable. Lucky it bent instead of snapping. The tree's still wet from the rain so I wouldn't recommend it."

He was perceptive. I inspect the big tree and he was right, the huge trunk was slippery that if one of us were to scale it, we'd be on the ground the second we leave it.

"How did you learn to do that with the lock?" His eyebrows crease in curiosity.

I sit next to him. He doesn't move away. "I saw a video once. Thought it looked cool. My uncle used to do magic tricks. So naturally, I thought if I could learn a magic trick he'd be impressed."

He nods. I feel him shiver beside me. I forgot that he was only wearing a tank top. I take off my father's gigantic jacket from my shoulder, the same one the kids at school kept teasing me about, and wrap it around us. 

Dad was rarely around and when he's home, he's always exhausted from work so we don't get to spend much time together other than bedtime. In my head, the jacket felt like he was there with me to witness my paintings and drawings at school to compensate for the events he's unable to attend because of exhaustion or held up at work.

I'm thankful I decided to wear the garment I stole from his closet than the pink sparkling sweater my mother bought last year. 

Julian and I snuggle together without any word spoken. We were both quiet, the silence was comfortable and at this moment, I know we were gonna be good friends. I'll make it so.

"What does it feel like to have a sibling?" I ask, curiously, disrupting the quiet atmosphere.

"It's noisy." I chuckle. "They can be annoying sometimes, especially watchin TV. I never get my turn."

"You have multiple siblings?"

He looks at me for the first time since I wrapped the jacket around us.

He nods. "I have two brothers. Levi's the youngest. They're not much but I love them. I think you'll love them, too. Except, I still hate them for stealing the last piece of Frittata our mother made." Sadness filled his eyes and he doesn't hide it. 

"Used to?"

He doesn't answer. I retract the urge to egg him on. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." We can just sit here until his parents get back to tell Elio to unlock the door.

"My mother was so beautiful and so kind. She loved gardening, you know. And I'm pretty sure she would have loved that century old tree. Elio named it after her." He gives a small smile, as if he's reminiscing the good times.

I don't miss how much he makes use of past tenses. "Was?"

"She died a few days ago."

It makes sense now why he's so quiet in class. He is mourning the loss of his mother. I couldn't imagine what he was going through. I don't want to live in a world where one of my parents are gone. 

"I'm sorry. How did she die?"

I pull the jacket closer to us.

"Car crash, my dad said. The road she was up on was secluded and by the time someone had found her, she wasn't breathing. The cold had gotten to her first before anyone did. That's why I hate the cold. I remember feeling it the day she died."

His mother. The cold. His tank top. "Is that why you didn't wear a jacket to school?" Is this his form of rebelling?

"It already took my mom, I don't want it to think that it's winning by manipulating me to wear a jacket. It's like admitting defeat. I threw all my jackets out after she died."

"The cold's not a living thing, dummy."

"Then why did it kill my mom?" I pause. He did have a point. Inanimate objects are not capable of hurting people.

Now it made sense why my uncle would sometimes utter the same phrase to me over and over when I refused to throw out my favorite baby blue blanket after it was accidentally ran over by my dad's car. I didn't care that it was shredded to pieces but Mom insisted to throw it into the bin. "Nothing good lasts forever," I say.

Julian's eyes were glassy. I hadn't known him for too long but it pains me to see him hurting inside. "I don't understand how someone so good had to be taken away." 

He whispers, "Why did she have to die?"

"Because heaven needs angels." I saw in a documentary that Mom was watching about how if people die, they will always be around you in spirit. That the soul only leaves the body and they can live on forever to watch over their loved ones. "Your mom's now one of them. And she's still watching over you."

"I don't think you understand. How can she be watching over me? My mother's gone." His words are saying one thing but his eyes don't believe it.

I stare at the tree Julian claimed his younger brother had fell off on yesterday as an attempt to sneak back into the house. "That's not true. Your mother's here."

Julian frantically looks around for a sign of his mother. I point to the tree. "He saved your brother yesterday from hitting the ground too hard. If the tree branch had not bent to Elio's weight and snapped instead, Elio might be at the hospital right now."

Julian blinks, still staring at the big tree. For a brief moment, the tree rustles ever so slightly that you wouldn't catch it if you're not paying attention.

I got up from the stairs and padded my way down to stand in front of the tree. I give her a big wave and smile. "Hello, Julian's mom. I'm sorry I never got to meet you in person but Julian tells me you're kind and beautiful. I just met him today and I take his word for it. I'm Sierra."

Julian treks his way down next to me and stares at the tree, my dad's jacket around his shoulders. "Don't worry, Mrs. Julian's mom. I will take good care of him from now on."

It's strange how before I didn't believe in ghosts or fairies but as I talk to Julian's mom through the tree, I could almost feel someone looking at us.

I lean into the tree and cover one side of my mouth away from Julian so he wouldn't hear what I have to say next. "If he gets in trouble, I'll get him out of it and kick his butt later," I whisper. I hold out my pinky finger. "I promise."

Julian takes off the jacket and hands it back to me. I shake my head. "You can keep it. Tell Mr. Cold that it was me who demanded you to wear it, not him. That way, he won't have any power over you."

He was ignorant at first but didn't put up much of a fight and wore the thing. "I still hate the cold," he mumbles.

I shrug. "I like the cold, my parents and I would gather by the fire if it got too much. It was the only time we would all be together in a room for long hours."

He gives me a smile and I smile back. "Could you teach me how to do that?" He makes a gesture to the door.

It takes me a while to realize he meant the lock picking.

"As long as you be my friend from now on." He beams like I had given him a puppy for Christmas.

"It's a deal."

We formed a silent pack. Two souls with different lives but similar in little ways. One who loved the cold and the other who despised it.