Callie Ansar

The Other Side Of The Lies


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      “No Ma. I was just as surprised as you were. And I’d rather not talk about it if that’s ok with you,” I answered. She didn’t say anything else and we drove the rest of the ride home in silence.

      Although the only noise inside my dad’s car was the soft sounds of the radio, I had a raging headache. My mind was racing with thoughts of Ramsey. I was making up excuses for him in my head. Maybe there was traffic. Maybe he got a flat tire. Oh God, maybe he had been in an accident and was hurt.

      I thought of a million excuses for him on that ride home, when I finally came to the conclusion that he just didn’t want to be there. If he wanted to be there, he would have been. If he wanted to get in touch with me, he knew where I was. He didn’t want to, and he clearly didn’t want me. Nobody did.

      12

      As we turned down our block and headed toward our house, I saw the familiar Jeep parked on the corner. Once we pulled into the driveway, I heard my father say, “Who the hell is that?”

      I leaned over to look between the two drivers seats and I saw the tall guy sitting on our stoop. “It’s Ramsey,” my mother muttered, clearly annoyed.

      We all got out of the car and closed our doors at the same time. He began to approach us as my father said, “You’re a little late, David. The party started five hours ago.”

      “I know, Mr. Faris. I am so very sorry, but I got caught up when I was picking up Karen’s gift,” he said as he held up a little black box. “I wound up getting lost and eventually found my way back here. Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Faris.”

      My father never even stopped to acknowledge him. Dad simply proceeded to find his keys and open the front door. Once he disappeared inside, my mother opened her mouth. “Ramsey, it’s not us that you need to apologize to, although, your sincerity doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said with a faint smile before heading into the house as well.

      I was a ball of emotions at that moment and I didn’t know whether to be happy that he was there, to cry for the fact that he wasn’t when I wanted him there, or to punch him in the face. My gut was telling me to go for the latter.

      “Karen,” Ramsey said in a slight whisper as he carefully moved closer to me. I wanted to stop and talk to him. I wanted to grab him when the wind blew and his cologne tickled my nose, but I kept on going. I walked to my stoop and sat down before I began any sort of conversation with him.

      He followed me and stood in front of me, still holding the black box. With no words spoken, he extended his arm and handed me the present. I took it from him and I held it, but didn’t want to open it. Not yet. I didn’t want to open the box and fall in love with whatever was inside. I needed an explanation first.

      “Well aren’t you going to open it?” he asked with both joy and sadness in his voice.

      I remained silent.

      “Karen, I know I fucked up and I am so sorry, but honestly, I got caught up picking up your gift.”

      “Caught up for four hours, Ramsey? Come on, do you really expect me to believe that? Where were you really, in the Bronx with your friends?” I asked as he looked at me, his eyes slanting with the slightest hint of anger in them. Silence was all around us when I said, “Well aren’t you going to answer me? Don’t I at least deserve that?”

      He didn’t answer. He just stood there, looking gorgeous in a black two button polo shirt and khakis. He did seem like he was dressed for the party, so maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He took one step closer to me as he said, “Karen, all I can say is that I’m sorry. Please, I drove all the way down here to see you. Please don’t fight with me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Karen. I wanted to be and I had every intention on being there, but I honestly got caught up picking up your gift.” He went on, “If you want me to leave, I will, but I’d love to stay and maybe go for a ride or something. Can you at least give me that?”

      I thought about his proposition for a second. I wanted to scream and tell him to go away, but I couldn’t. The feeling I got simply being near him was a feeling that I didn’t want to let go of. This man had me in the palm of his hand, but I didn’t know if he knew it and I wasn’t going to let him know it. But, I couldn’t let him go away and I had to keep my guard up for a bit. “Hold this,” I said as I handed him back the box. I stood up and went inside. I told my parents that I was going for a ride with Ramsey and that I’d be back a little later. My father didn’t seem pleased, nor did my mother for that matter, yet I still went. I wanted to. I had to.

      Ramsey was standing in the same spot as I left him in and I simply said, “Let’s go.”

      We walked in silence to his car and once inside, he asked, “Where to?” and I pointed him in the direction of the beach.

      The ride to the beach from my house took about twenty minutes. The twenty minutes we were in the car were the most uncomfortable that I’d spent with him thus far. The only words spoken were me giving directions.

      The top of the Jeep was off and as we got closer, the sea air calmed me a bit. Being by the water always did that to me because it was my happy place. I told him where to park and once in a spot, he grabbed the blanket that he kept in the back and we headed south towards the water.

      I led us to a private part of the beach that night. This time of year, the beach was filled with hormone induced teenagers and I couldn’t be bothered with that. I didn’t need to feel like I was back on the beach in Jersey with Ramsey, I needed to be alone with him. I needed to concentrate only on him and his excuse as to why he missed such an important night in my life.

      I took my heels off as we approached the sand, and the cold granules sent a shiver up my spine. I looked ahead at the water to see a glorious moon up in the sky and a few stars shining down on us that night. We stopped a few feet away from the water and placed the blanket down. Ramsey sat with his legs out in front of him, and still having my dress on, I sat on my bottom with my legs bent by my side. God was I uncomfortable.

      “It’s so peaceful here,” Ramsey said, breaking our silence.

      “Yup,” was all I could muster out, laying the attitude on pretty thick.

      “Look, Karen,” Ramsey started before I stopped him.

      “Where were you Ramsey? Honestly, where were you tonight?” my tone demanding an answer.

      “I told you. I got stuck picking up your gift, which you still haven’t opened yet by the way.”

      “Where were you picking up my gift?”

      He didn’t answer me.

      “Look Ramsey, I’ve been holding this in since Jersey, but I have to ask. Do you do drugs? I mean, more drugs that smoking pot?”

      He lit a cigarette as he asked, “Why would you ask me that?” He looked straight ahead as he waited for my answer.

      “In passing, someone referred to you as a junkie. I never planned on mentioning it to you because I never believed it, but sometimes your actions are so out of character for you, that I’m beginning to think that it’s not a coincidence. Either that or I don’t really know you at all. I couldn’t look at him as my hurtful words came out.

      “Who told you this? Danny?” he questioned, exhaling smoke.

      “No, it wasn’t Danny. Is it true, Ramsey? I mean, is it?” I asked, now looking at him, hoping to see some kind of emotion on his face, but he continued to look straight ahead.

      I grabbed a cigarette from his box and lit it to fill up some of the time while waiting for his answer.

      “Are you going to answer me, Ramsey?”

      “No,”

      “No, what?” I answered.

      “No, Karen, I’m not a junkie.” He exhaled and shouted a long, exaggerated, “FUUUCCCCCK.”

      I