The Safest Lies by Megan Miranda Page A

tie, and an older man stepped forward to straighten it for him, before placing a hand on his shoulder.
    It’s in my blood, Ryan had said. A family legacy. He was surrounded by a group of people who had watched him grow up, who were waiting for him to join them. He had a place he always knew he would belong.
    Meanwhile, I was alone and completely out of place. I looked at my jeans, my purple shirt, my black sneakers. It hadn’t occurred to me that this would be a formal affair. I mean, it was the community center. The basketball nets had been retracted upward, toward the ceiling, but this was a place where people worked out. At least I was wearing my nice jeans. And at least I’d put some product in my hair. My curls were shiny and tamed, and I guess that counted for something.
    A hush fell over the crowd as the people up front started assembling themselves into order, in a straight row. A man who must’ve been the mayor made his way to the podium.

    I saw Ryan scan the crowd, the seats, but he never got to me. His gaze drifted back to the floor, and he took a deep breath. If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess he was nervous. He’d already done the hard part—me, the car, the fall. All he had to do now was stand there while other people in suits said nice things about him.
    I noticed several people from our class in the chairs near the aisle—the guys I’d see Ryan with at school, in the halls, or the ones who stopped by the Lodge during the summer, looking for him. Mark and AJ and Leo, in khakis and button-downs. AJ had his girlfriend with him. There were also a few vaguely familiar faces, who I thought must’ve been from his fire department. One of them, standing behind Ryan, was watching me back, and I didn’t know whether it was because I was severely underdressed or because he remembered me. Had he been there that night? The only person I remembered was Ryan—the promise in his words, making me believe. Even the medic’s face had faded away. I understood how my mother could’ve forgotten everything after her imprisonment. Everything else was buried under a layer of fear, and I didn’t want to poke at it too hard.
    The other firefighter leaned forward, whispered something into Ryan’s ear, and Ryan’s eyes scanned the crowd, settling on me. His face didn’t change, but he started raising his hand. But then the microphone snapped on, and the mayor’s quick intake of breath echoed through the room before he let out a booming “Good evening!”

    The crowd settled, and even Ryan turned his focus to the mayor.
    And then there was an all-too-familiar voice in my ear, a minty whisper, and a jangle of bracelets. “Hey there, you.”
    Emma stood beside me with two of her girlfriends. At least Cole didn’t seem to be here.
    “Hi, Emma,” I whispered. “What are you doing here?” And are we friends again? I didn’t get the memo.
    She nodded her head toward the girl beside her, leaning against the wall. “Holly wanted to come. For Ryan.” She smiled again, all teeth. I made myself smile back.
    Holly-in-the-flesh was slightly less scary than the Holly-of-my-mind, who I’d turned into a vacant texting machine who chewed gum and had long, manicured nails. The Holly who had actually texted Ryan (all caps, super-excited) was rather sweet-looking, with dimples and wavy strawberry-blond hair, phone nowhere in sight.
    “Shh,” someone said. The room echoed, like a gymnasium. It was a gymnasium after all.
    The mayor was now talking about acts of bravery, and the average person, and looking out for our neighbors, and how community was built on the shoulders of people like this.

    There were two people receiving the medal. One woman, for performing the Heimlich on a stranger at the Italian restaurant in town (heroic, yes, but brave?), and Ryan. “According to Chief Nicholas,” the mayor said, “Mr. Baker insisted he be the one to climb into Ms. Thomas’s car. There was no moment of hesitation.” Ryan