Tell Me Lies by Locklyn Marx Page A

hadn’t gotten as much as she could out of her col ege experience. She had no friends, only acquaintances that she’d met through her class work.
    She’d hardly been to any parties.
    She had no one in the audience to cheer for her when they cal ed her name, and the only applause she got was the polite clapping people were doing for everyone.
    She was packing up her apartment when Leo showed up at her door.
    He was wearing the navy blue t-shirt that brought out his eyes, and his hair was longer than she remembered.
    “I miss you,” he said simply.
    She missed him, too. It al came rushing back to her. The fun they’d had. The way it had felt to belong to someone and to have someone that cared about her. Stil .
    She knew he was bad for her.

    “Leo,” she said, “I don’t think this is a good idea. You shouldn’t have come here.”
    “But I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.” He took a step toward her, and he smel ed just as she remembered, like leather and hair gel. “Please,” he said. Give me one more chance. I’l do anything. Whatever you want.”
    She was powerless to stop it. She gave up her spot in the graduate program at Boston University. It was too late to apply anywhere else, and so she moved back in with Leo and took a job teaching at the local elementary school. It was just supposed to be for a year, until she could reapply to grad school.
    But when the year was up, she decided to postpone going back to school. Things were going so wel for her and Leo that she didn’t want to upset the balance. One more year, she told herself, and then you’l go back to school. But another year turned into two.
    Things started getting progressively worse. Leo would get moody. A couple of times they got into horrible fights that culminated with him putting his hands on her. He hadn’t hit her, but he’d pushed her out the door and locked her out of
    “his” apartment.
    Another time he’d grabbed her so hard he’d causes bruises to bloom al over her arms.

    He always apologized, always told her he was sorry.
    It went on like this for years.
    Until last week.
    She’d stayed late at school to have a parent/teacher conference with the father of a boy who’d been having problems with his schoolwork. The father had been helpful and understanding, and along with the school psychologist, they’d come up with a plan that Alexis had felt good about.
    She was humming a little tune as she drove home and singing along with the radio. When she pul ed into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she realized that Leo was behind her. She wondered what he was doing home from work so early.
    Maybe he’d taken some paid time off. He liked to do that sometimes in the spring, when the weather got nicer.
    She pul ed into a spot and cut the engine.
    She’d just stepped out of the car when she felt his hands grab her shoulders.
    “Who the fuck was that, Alexis?” he screamed, spit flying out of his mouth.

    “What?” She was so confused that it took her a second to realize what was happening.
    “Who the fuck was that guy you were with?”
    “What guy?”
    He slammed her up against the car so hard her whole body shook.
    “The guy I saw you coming out of the school with!”
    “That was a parent,” she said.
    “Why was he touching you like that? Why were you guys smiling and laughing?”
    “He wasn’t touching me.”
    “Liar!” He slammed her up against the car again.
    “Stop,” she said. “Leo, please, you’re scaring me.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said, pul ing her close. But it didn’t have the same effect on her as it usual y did. She didn’t feel sorry for him. She didn’t feel like she wished things were different.
    Al she felt was disgust. “I’m sorry, Alexis.” Leo was stroking her hair, and bile rose in her throat.
    But she didn’t pul away. She couldn’t pul away – she knew that if she did, it would just make him more upset. So instead, she said, “It’s al right. Why don’t we