Fake It 'Til You Break It

I fuckin’ knew we’d fit.

She pushed back harder than I did. Sought out what she needed more than I allowed myself to. Then boom, a bucket of fucking ice dropped, and she flipped her switch, walked out like nothing happened.

She’s not mine, she said.

Ain’t that some bullshit?

I have no fucking clue what she’s truly been thinking the last few weeks. All I know is what’s going on in my damn head, and it’s not easy to admit when I can’t positively say she’s not on the same page. Still...

When I think of her, I want more.

When I touch her, I hate to stop.

When I look at her, I see mine.

I need her to feel the same.

A half hour passes before my phone rings and I finally find myself walking out of the studio and toward the parking lot.

I answer Trent’s call.

“Your truck’s still here. Where you at?” he asks, right as I step through the double doors.

“I’m coming,” I tell him, hanging up.

His eyes travel over all the exit points of the school until they land on me, and he leans back against my hood.

“What up, man?” he asks when I make it to him. “Where’d you go?”

I scoff, shaking my head and nodding at the cab. I hit the unlock button, and he follows my lead, climbing in the passenger seat while I slide into the driver’s.

“Thought you were going to get your brother?” I ask him, leaning back.

He shrugs, looking away.

I turn toward him. “She called them, didn’t she?”

He hesitates a moment before looking my way. “She didn’t have to. Dem walked out when we were getting in the car. Girls got one look at her and off they went.”

I nod, then put the truck in drive. “Lock up, we’ll go get him.”

“You sure?” He eyes me. “I can go by myself, call you later?”

“Yeah, bro. I could use the drive. He’ll have to sit bitch, but...” I trail, and we both laugh lightly.

He pushes the button on his keys and off we go.

“So what’s going on, Nic? Why was she cryin’?” he asks once we’re on the highway.

She was cryin’?

“Fuck if I know.” My grip tightens on the wheel. “She flipped out. She...” I cut a quick glance his way, and he tilts his head expectantly.

Fuck it.

I break down all the bullshit that happened with Miranda, the switch of partners, and how her and Alex showed up together that next morning, catching us in a fucked up looking position.

“Damn,” he draws out, looking away. “So you really didn’t touch her this time, Miranda?”

My glare snaps to his a moment before I focus on the road.

“Are you for real?”

“What? Don’t act surprised. I’m the one person aware this shit between you and Dem is fake, remember? I had to ask.” He lifts his hands. “Keep going.”

I flip him off and he chuckles.

“Every time we’ve kissed it’s been when others are around, played off as all part of the deal, you know? But man, I know that’s bullshit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I’ve been telling you – I can fucking read her, bro. She’s wanted me to kiss her, touch her, something, several times, and not so people would see. It hasn’t been easy, but I held myself back every fuckin’ time when it was the last thing I wanted to do.”

He thinks on that a second before he says, “You kissed her when you were alone.”

“I fucking kissed her, and I wasn’t subtle or gentle, and she turned to putty in my arms, Trent. She was into it. Fully. Fuckin’ completely.” I know it.

I fuckin’ felt it.

“I’m not really seeing the problem here, Nic.”

“My point exactly. She just froze, and that was it. She talked some shit and took off.”

“Maybe she freaked out. Too much too quick? This was supposed to be fake. Maybe she’s not looking for more?”

You don’t have to be looking to find the best fucking thing for you.

Sometimes all you have to do is open your eyes and realize it found you first.

I glare out the front window.

“You got a thing for her?” I ask him point blank.

“What?! No!”

His answer is instant and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I love Krista. I’m happy with Krista and plan to follow her ass around like a little bitch after graduation.” He laughs lightly. “I like Demi, and I care about her, but no...” He trails off, and I cut a glance his way.

“What?”

A heavy tension lines his eyes, and he curses under his breath. “I gotta tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” I ask, merging over and turning down the road that leads to the airport.

He shakes his head, blowing out a long breath. “Look, this—”

Trent’s phone beeps.

With a sigh, he pulls it from his pocket, frowning at the screen.

“Goddamn this girl.” He shakes his head.

“That was Krista?”