One Tiny Lie A Novel

students are entered into a draw and assigned dorms. Freshmen get the added bonus of random roommates. Even though we only met today, I’m pretty sure I’m going to love Reagan. She’s bubbly and outgoing and talks a mile a minute. She’s also very artistic. After we moved our stuff into our room, she made a sign for the door with our names in calligraphy, surrounded by hearts and flowers and x’s and o’s. I think it’s really sweet. Kacey thinks it screams “lesbian couple.”
    The second we stepped through the doors, Reagan was gone, chatting up a group of guys. Considering she’s a freshman, she seems to know a lot of people. Mostly male. She’s the one who suggested we come tonight; otherwise we would have ended up at one of the many campus-organized events that I had every intention of going to until Kacey hijacked my plans. Apparently, Princeton students living off-campus is rare, and therefore these house parties should never be missed.
    “All right, Princess. Drink this,” Kacey says, producing a bottle of water out of thin air, adding, “I don’t want you puking tonight.”
    I take the bottle and let the fresh, cold liquid pour into my mouth. And I imagine projectile-vomiting my fajita dinner all over Kacey. It would serve her right.
    “Oh, come on, Livie! Stop being mad at me.” Kacey’s voice is getting that whiny twang to it, a sign that she is sincerely feeling guilty. And then I start feeling guilty for making her feel guilty . . .
    I heave a sigh. “I’m not mad. I just don’t get why you’re on a mission to get me drunk.” It was drunk driving that killed our parents. I think that’s one of the main reasons I’ve avoided anything to do with alcohol up until now. Kacey barely touches the stuff too. Though she seems to be making up for it tonight.
    “I’m on a mission to make sure you have fun and meet people. It’s frosh week of your first year of college. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It should involve copious amounts of alcohol and at least one morning with your head in the toilet.” I answer her with an eye roll, but that doesn’t dissuade her. Turning to face me, she throws her arms over my shoulders. “Livie. You’re my little sister and I love you. Nothing about your life has been normal these past seven years. Tonight, you are going to live like a normal, irresponsible eighteen-year-old.”
    Licking my lips, I counter with, “It’s illegal for an eighteen-year-old to drink.” I know my argument is futile against my sister, but I don’t care.
    “Ah yes. You are right.” Sliding a hand under her toga to reach into the pocket of her shorts, she pulls out what looks like a driver’s license. “And that’s why you are twenty-one-year-old Patricia from Oklahoma if the cops show up.”
    I should have known my sister would have all her bases covered.
    The music begins to pick up tempo, and my knees move along with the beat. “You’re going to dance with me soon!” Kacey shouts as she hands me two more shots. How many is that now? I’ve lost count but my tongue feels funny. Wrapping her arm around my neck, my sister pulls me down so we’re cheek-to-cheek. Okay, ready?” she says, holding her phone out in front of us. I hear, “Smile!” as the flash goes off. “For Stayner.”
    Aha! Proof!
    “Cheers!” Kacey taps her Dixie cup into mine and then tips her head and sucks it back, quickly followed by the other. “Oh, blue ones! I’ll be back in a sec!” Like a golden retriever chasing a squirrel, Kacey tears off after a guy balancing a large round tray on his shoulder, oblivious to the heads turning as she passes. Between her fierce red hair, striking face, and muscular curves, my sister always turns heads. I doubt she even notices it. She definitely isn’t uncomfortable about it.
    I sigh as I watch her. I know what she’s doing. Aside from getting me drunk, of course. She’s trying to distract me from the sad part about today. That my dad is not here on the one day that he should be. On the day that I start at Princeton. This was always his dream, after all. He was a proud graduate and he wanted both of his girls to go here. Kacey’s declining grades after the accident didn’t allow for that possibility, leaving it to me. So I’m living his dream—my dream, too—and he’s not here to see me do it.
    I take a deep breath and silently accept whatever fate—and by fate I mean Jell-O shots—has in store for me tonight. I’m certainly less