The Lies About Truth by Courtney C. Stevens

up isn’t up anymore. Down is up, sideways is up, anything is up. The water will lie to you. Let out a few bubbles and follow the bubbles; you’ll reach the top.”
    I frogged to the surface ahead of Gray, drawing air as if I’d never tasted it before. He broke through beside me, slung back his hair, and said, “Damn, that took my breath away.”
    Gray did other things that night that took my breath away.
    “Sadie?”
    Mom’s voice lured me away from the memory.
    “Yeah,” I said.
    “Don’t ‘yeah.’ Just tell me. Would you like to do that?”
    “Ma’am?” I realized she’d been talking to me for a while, and I hadn’t heard any of it.
    Her thumbs danced on the steering wheel; she pinched her lips a few times before she spoke. “Would you like to have Maria cut you some bangs?”
    “What?”
    “I don’t know why I didn’t suggest it sooner. It might make you feel less”—she lowered her voice as if I might not want her to speak the words in front of Max and Sonia—“self-conscious.”
    I widened my eyes and attempted a joke. “Are bangs the new black or something?”
    “Max.” Mom sounded downright exasperated. “Please tell her it will be fine.”
    “Mom, don’t drag him into this. If it were fine, you wouldn’t be suggesting bangs.”
    “Oh, shush.”
    We whipped into Maria’s studio, and I got bangs. Just like that. Sonia made Max get a cut, maintaining that he also needed a new style. She was pretty emphatic that he wouldn’t be doing his own hair with kiddie scissors anymore.
    Our moms and their damn style.
    Post-cuts, Max and I took a walk of solidarity down the bathroom hallway. Partly to brush the hair from our clothes. Partly to bitch.
    “Dammit, don’t I look like prepubescent Joker?” I mocked,widening my smile with my index fingers as I exited the bathroom.
    “You look classy—Audrey Hepburn–ish,” Max said. “I’m the one who got weed-whacked.”
    “Audrey is a goddess. And had dark hair.” Rather than continue that complaint, I reached up and stroked his hair—what was left of it—forward. “Sorry. I’m sure it was a sympathy cut.”
    “Nope. That woman has plans to renovate me. Just you wait. She’s about to put me in Vineyard Vines and Sperrys when all I want are T-shirts and cutoffs. I already have those.”
    “You sound like Trent.”
    “Trent loved surfer clothes.” He palmed his head and laughed. “I should’ve had Maria bleach my hair blond.”
    “He had the best hair,” I said.
    “God, he should have. He spent hours on it.” Max sidled up to the closest mirror and pretended to primp.
    We both grinned, but didn’t go so far as to laugh. We’d talked about Trent and we were upright. Not bad. Not bad at all.
    Our mothers wanted us upright and in the van. There were sales to find and clothes to buy. We hurried along only to wait in Saturday traffic. This presented me with plenty of time to examine my new bangs without Sonia or Mom watching. Yes, I looked younger, and that sucked. I wasn’t Audrey, but Idaho—what Idaho? Bangs were a good idea.
    Just so she’d know, at the next red light I got Mom’sattention. Pointing to my forehead, I mouthed the words Thank you .
    Mom’s face exploded with happiness. I loved her pretty well all the time, but I rarely thanked her. I liked to imagine she knew I was grateful, but I wasn’t sure parents saw thoughts as well as they pretended they could. If they got occasional glimpses, they probably only saw the worrisome stuff. Maybe if I doubled down every now and again, it would make up for the dry stretches.
    “Whew, tourist season,” Sonia said from the back.
    You’re welcome , Mom mouthed back. Then without missing a beat, she answered Sonia. “This traffic is awful. Sometimes it’s better to stay home.”
    “I recall mentioning that,” I said.
    She sparred back. “Come fall, do you want to go to school in your pajamas?”
    “Mom, fall’s a long way from now. We didn’t have to ruin