Fake It 'Til You Break It

The last thing I expected yesterday was everything I had hoped for – Nico to show up and erase the memory that threatened to ruin us.

He did, and then some.

I know nothing is forgotten, but to have him here, knowing we can move past this is more than enough.

After washing my hands, I splash some water on my face, gently patting it dry with a hand towel and sliding it across my neck.

My robe falls open slightly and I spot a small hickey just over my breast.

I lean closer to the mirror, tracing it with my fingers and then look into my own eyes.

No guilt. No shame.

I step back, push the door open, and my eyes fall to my discarded jeans, then slide down the hall where Nico’s boxers lie.

A small smile tugs at my lips and I follow the trail, laughing at his football pants on the stairs, and my shirt by the entrance rug, his cleats a few feet from there.

I pull the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth and reach into the fridge for a bottle of water.

I unscrew the lid, taking a drink as I close the door.

I scream and jump back, gasping in the next second as the cold-water spills onto my chest.

My hand flies to my robe and I pull it closed tighter.

“Mom.” My wide eyes snap from her to me and back. “What the hell!”

My mother narrows her eyes, tilting her head slightly. “What the hell?” she repeats.

“I only mean thanks for creeping up on me, you scared me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so lost in thought, you’d have noticed I was standing in the living room as you passed by.” She blinks.

She was?

“You were?”

She crosses her arms. “Is this what you do when I’m gone? Shack up with the neighbor boy?”

“You know his name.”

“Demi.”

I put the lid on my water, setting it down I then turn around, leaning against the countertop. I lift my hand. “It’s not like you’d know if I was telling the truth or not, but no,” I say and the corner of her eyes pinch the slightest bit. “Last night was our... was his first time staying over.”

Her gaze tightens, but her lips smooth out, so I can tell she appreciates the honesty.

“Protection?” she asks.

I nod even though, no, we didn’t pause for that like we should have. I am on birth control, but we should have gone for double protection.

My mom looks away a moment, pretending to pick lint from her blazer before looking back to me.

“I like him.”

“I’d hope so,” she comes back instantly, judgment burning in her stare, but concern is also evident.

My shoulders fall and I step toward her.

“Mom...” I pause. “I’m serious,” I whisper. “I like him.”

It takes her a few seconds, but her features smooth and she glances away. “Is he... are the two of you...”

“Dating?” I help her out.

She gives a stiff nod, so I nod back.

“You know, Trent is—”

“Mom.” I stop her, moving closer. “Trent is Nico’s best friend, my friend’s boyfriend, and even if he wasn’t either of those things, he would still only be a friend to me. I don’t and I won’t want him. That’s never going to change.”

“Friends...” she tests the word, her lips pinching.

I shrug. “That’s all.”

After a moment, my mom surprises me when she clears her throat and nods, a fitted smile on her face.

She reaches out, gently touching my cheek, a bit of dejection plaited in her words, “Don’t be late for school, Demi.”

She steps back, grabs her purse and her keys, and walks out the garage door, locking it behind her.

It’s odd, for a mother to do nothing else, but mine has no clue what to do, and leaving is easier for her than facing the fact that she’s oblivious to how to parent a teenage girl. I can’t fault her for it, but sometimes I almost wish she’d try.

I take a deep breath, my eyes stuck on the way she exited before I pick up my water and head back for my room, but as soon as I step around the corner, I find Nico standing there, leaning against the wall, his boxers on and a throw blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Hi.” I grin.

“Hi.”

“How long you been standing here?”

“Since you stepped foot in the kitchen.” He eyes me, a gentleness I haven’t seen in his before. “Thought you were sneaking out of your own house on me.”

A small laugh escapes.

“She left?”

I nod.

His eyes blaze. “Come here.”

I do.

He lifts his arm, running his hand along my neck before leaning in to kiss me lightly, the blanket falling to our feet as he grabs my hand.

He pulls back, nodding his head so I follow him up the stairs and into my in-house studio room.

There’s a few small stools in the corner, a sound system in the other and that’s it.