The One Month Boyfriend (Wildwood Society)
“You’ve got nice tits.”
“Thank you. I’d still turn down your threesome offer.”
“Fair.”
I want to touch the spot on my neck, but I don’t. It’s faded a tiny bit as of today, but I’ve still got a few layers of concealer over it and have to touch it up every few hours. It’s gross, and ugly, and obnoxious, and I can’t believe Silas gave me a hickey in the world’s most obvious spot.
And yet every night when I wash my face, I find myself staring at it in the mirror for way longer than I should as I replay how I got it: the tug on my hair, his mouth on my neck. I think I made a noise. I think I made a lot of noises, and none of them were for show.
“Evan’s pissed about Silas, and Silas takes every chance he can to bother him,” I say, circling back to that. “I feel like I’m watching two moose circle each other and make weird bellowing sounds before they smash their heads together to establish dominance.”
“Gross,” Anna Grace says, matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, super gross,” I agree, and I make an effort to watch this bland white man talk to this other bland white man about how he thinks he could consider the possibility of maybe falling in love with one of the remaining contestants, because otherwise I might start thinking about how I don’t hate watching Evan and Silas square off quite as much as I should.
I might admit that I’ve come to enjoy Silas’s cheerful sniping at Evan, his knack for getting under my ex’s skin and doing it with an aw-shucks smile.
And I might admit that I kind of wish he were doing it for reasons beyond our agreement.
“Is there still ice cream in the freezer?” I ask Anna Grace.
“All I’ve got is the weird low-carb coconut stuff,” she says without looking over at me. “Couple derby girls came over after the last match.”
“How weird is weird?”
“Try it,” she says with a shrug, so I head to her freezer.
* * *
Thursday, 7pm, Hank’s Hideout: dinner
Activities:consume nutrition necessary for continued survival
Objective:appear publicly as dating couple
Two nights later,Silas and I are in a booth in the back of Hank’s, a burger joint, when everyone in the place starts shouting. I jump and glance over my shoulder to double-check that it’s still about sports and not, you know, a murder or something.
Seems like just sports.
Across the table from me, Silas grins.
“I didn’t realize they’d be this worked up about the preseason,” he says. “I’d have picked somewhere quieter.”
I take the top bun off my two-thirds-finished burger and pick off a piece of bacon, because I’m pretty much done but I’ll always eat bacon.
“Why?” I ask, crunching it between my teeth. “Isn’t crowded and loud the point?”
“It can be one without the other,” he points out, and I make a face. Crowded and loud is far from my favorite kind of place, but it’s not like anyone is looking at me here, tucked into a booth against the wall and peacefully minding my own business.
This whole week, we’ve followed Silas’s schedule and my rules down to the letter. All the PDA has been normal. The kisses have been brief and polite. Evan’s been in a terrible mood. My revenge-fake-dating plan is going exactly according to specifications, and that’s great and I don’t wish that anything were different, even a little.
“You into football?” I ask as there’s a minor roar behind me and Silas’s gaze flicks to the screen for a few seconds.
“Not much any more,” he admits, still watching. “I used to be but I got too busy to really follow it. You?”
I lean back, bacon finished, and pick up my beer.
“Oh, yeah, I love sports,” I say. “I’m a total… sports head, over here.”