Liar, Liar - Chapter One

This is Chapter One of a story I hope to continue. Feedback would be appreciated! :p

Chapter One:

I have always been a liar. At first, my parents were impressed. Ever since I could speak in complete sentences, I've been twisting the truth to suit my needs. At first, my parents took it as an early sign of my budding intelligence. Then, it was demoted to a "phase". One I never grew out of. 

And it may or may not be the reason I'm in the situation I am in now. 

I'm sorry Mother, but I confess I have deceived you... the letter always started the same way. It sounds so shifty, so manipulative, never mind the archaic tone. Hardly a good start for a family discussion.
I crumple up the sheet of watermarked University stationary and toss it angrily in the wastebasket.
"Having trouble writing that letter? Again?"
Kaili saunters into the room, holding a blushing pink apple. She plops down next to me on the tattered sofa, taking a gigantic bite.
"Hey, if you didn't have such a perfect family you'd be writing this letter, too."
"I don't know if uncaring and ignorant qualifies as perfect," her eyes sparkled, though from laughter or sadness I could not tell.
"In our line of work? Yes, it does."
That makes her laugh, and she throws her head back so she looks like an angel. I kiss her cheek, and stand up.
"Speaking of which, I'd better go into the garden now. I've got some work to finish up."
Kaili laughs again, but now her voice is filled with playful scorn.
"How come you always call it 'the garden'? As if it's the most normal thing in the world. It's underground, for God's sake."
"Well, when you come up with a better idea, let me know." I pull up the corner of the carpet and fling open the trap door.
"Who the hell builds a house with a trapdoor? We do have this great invention called stairs," Kaili says for about the hundredth time. We clamber down the ladder and shut the door behind us, encasing ourselves in our own private underground world.
I always picture basements as dark, dank places where pests infest the floorboards and mold hides in the corners. I guess that's why, even now, I still get a little startled at the cleanliness of our basement. It's so clean it reminds me of a hospital room, albeit not a legal one. No, I remind myself, It is legal - it's been decriminalized.
Fluorescent grow lights hang from the ceiling. Rows of indoor planting beds (I made them myself) line the wooden floor. The walls are cleanly painted with a simple, off-whitish color that gives the whole room a calculated, clinical feel. I like the color much better than the original paint job - a dingy indigo that muffled sounds and staled the air inside, making it hard to breathe.
The basement air feels cool, and is heavily scented with the crisp fragrance of growing things. It almost feels like a meadow, with clean light and green leaves all around.
I grab the plastic mister bottle waiting for me, and begin to lightly spray the leaves to keep up the ambient humidity. Since I last came down here this morning, a couple of withered leaves have fallen to the ground. I ask Kaili to sweep the floor with the broom and dustpan we keep down here, and she compliantly agrees. She knows how much of a neat freak I am down here, even if I'm a total pig everywhere else. Somehow, I feel like keeping our garden clean is the key to not getting caught, even though I know that that's not true.

I finish  spraying the light green leaves of our prized plants with water and wait for Kaili to finish sweeping before climbing up the ladder.I glance down at my watch, a birthday present from Kaili. The elegant hands sweep across the face and for a brief moment I am mesmerized, staring blankly at the time. 6:47.

I quickly finish ascending the ladder as Kaili comes up behind me, waiting to surface into the real world. She scrambles up the ladder faster than I do. She does yoga every day, so it's probably because she's far more coordinated than I am. Still, the ladder-race has become a point of one-way competition in my mind.

I close the door behind her, spreading the carpet back into its original position and closing away that private little world.

"You should probably head to your classes soon, Ollie. You don't want to be late for Batcher's class again," she smiles deviously. Prof. Batcher is my Advanced Plant Genetics and Hybridization (code for breeding/genetic engineering plants) professor. He's really strict, and last time I was late for his class he made me write a ten-page essay on Hydroponically Growing Commonly Consumed Vegetables (he pronounced the word veg-eh-tables). I thought that was a bit excessive, and made the mistake of voicing my displeasure. The paper became ten percent of my grade for the semester, and I stressed about it for two weeks. Kaili still hasn't let me live that down. 

I kiss her, and grab my coat.

"Okay then, I'm off. Don't have too much fun without me!" I cry behind me, grabbing my purse and my binder and heading out the door.

"Never have, never will!" she replies jovially. It's become our little ritual when I leave for my night classes. I shut the door and lock it behind me. I am about to go to the class that is the reason I have lied to my mother and am going to "college" in another state. I am about to go to the class that has taught me all I need to know about my business - growing and hybridizing an underground store of illegal marijuana.

Author's Note

Sorry it's a little confusing right now - hopefully as the story progresses it will be easier to understand. Watch out, later the language might get a little intense later (swearing and stuff), you have been warned! I'd really love to hear what you guys think :)