For Real Page 6

  “You have a boyfriend? My Shannon has a boyfriend?! Are you serious?” She squeals and jumps on me as if I’ve just announced I’d won Miss America.

  “Jesus, let me go,” I wheeze. I get a flaily hug, and I pat her on the back and try to get her to stop before she chokes the life out of me. She finally lets go and smacks me on the ass.

  “God, I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about you becoming a weird old lady with a houseful of cats,” she says.

  “Well, I’m still young. I’ve got plenty of time for cats.” She grabs my face and squishes it between her hands. I nearly swallow my tongue.

  “Don’t even think that thought. I will not let it happen. Plus, now that you’ve had sex, I don’t see you going back anytime soon. My first time definitely was NOT that good.” I know about all my friends’ first times and they range from terrible to not-so-terrible. I’d probably gone a little too far with my story, but I blame that on the fact that I read too many sexy books.

  “Um, so I might have told the rest of the girls about you and Jett,” Hazels says, bracing for me to yell at her. I’ve known her long enough to know that she would share this kind of juicy information.

  “It’s fine. I pretty much told them that I was with him when I asked them about the Kappa Sig party.” She sighs in relief.

  “Oh, good. I didn’t want you to be mad at me. Again. So, did you get a lot of work done?”

  I don’t elaborate on my non-studying or that I’d met Jett at the library, because that would lead to the Fake Dating conversation and I’ve only been Fake Dating him for a few hours. I have to get through at least a week. Then a few more.

  One month. What was I thinking? How can I lie and pull this off for a month? I’m not a good actress. I grab my tea and dash to my room to call Jett.

  “Hey. I can’t do this. Why did we decide to do this? This is Shannon, by the way. In case you didn’t figure that out.” I hadn’t even given him a chance to say anything before I’d launched into my ramble.

  “Yeah, I know. You’re having second thoughts already?” I hear him close a door and then sit down, probably on his bed. “Shit, we’ve only been Fake Dating for like, a few hours.”

  “I know. I’m bailing.”

  “Why? Talk to me.”

  “Because I’m a terrible liar. And I just don’t think I can handle it. Four nights together? What if you get sick of me? What if you think I’m crazy? Or gross?” He cuts me off there.

  “Whoa. Slow your roll, Shannon. We can talk about the Rules. We can adjust them if need be. And if you keep making me laugh and being adorable, I’m never going to get sick of you, I promise you that. And I like crazy. Good crazy. And you’re not gross, I promise.” I can hear him stifling laughter. This is not funny.

  “Do not make fun of me. I’m in a delicate condition.”

  “I’m not making fun of you, princess.”

  “Hey, you’re breaking Rule Six.”

  “Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. Not even a little bit.

  “What point are Rules if you don’t follow them? See what I mean? This is hopeless and pointless.” I lay back on my bed, my head bouncing on my pillows.

  “I don’t think it’s either of those things. You’re just a pessimist. But fortunately for you, your Fake Boyfriend is an optimist. So, I don’t accept your reasoning. Also, you didn’t use the safe word, so who’s not following rules now?”

  Crap, I’d forgotten about the stupid safe word. I’m about to utter it, but then I pause. Jett waits.

  “Okay, so maybe I’m a little pessimistic.”

  “I think that’s a bit of an understatement, Shan.” At least he hadn’t called me princess again. “But if you seriously don’t want to do this, then all you have to do is say the word and this is done.”

  “I know.”

  But ending this would mean I probably wouldn’t get to see or hang out with Jett anymore. Yes, I’ve only known the guy a couple days, but I want him in my life. He’s easy to talk to and he’s fun and he’s also easy to look at. Tattoos are sexy. I never knew how sexy until I met him. Plus, he’s got really cool hair.

  And I can’t go back and tell Hazel and the rest of the girls that I lied to them about this. No way. The humiliation would kill me.

  No going back now.

  “No. I’m okay.”

  “We’re on?”

  “Yeah, we’re still on.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, then. Goodnight, Shannon.”

  “Goodnight, Jett.”

  We hang up and I toss my phone on the bed. There’s a knock at the door.

  “Yeah?” I say.

  “Can I come in?” Really? Hazel is asking if she can come into my room? I’m immediately on edge.

  “Sure?” It sounds like a question. She opens the door as if she’s afraid something on the other side of it is going to leap out and strangle her.

  “Something wrong?” God, I hope she didn’t hear any of that phone conversation. Especially the first part.

  “I just wanted to see how you are. I mean, you just had sex for the first time. I feel like we should sit down and talk or something. See if you had any questions. Be your best friend. That kind of thing.” Aw, that’s sweet. If I’d needed it.

  “I’m good, I swear. We were safe and all that jazz. And now we’re dating. So it’s good. I’m good.” How many times in the past two days have I used the word “good”? I’ve probably reached my quota.

  “What about the pill? Condoms aren’t 100 percent effective.” Really? She’s playing this card with me? How many times have I bugged her about having random sex with guys? Now I’m pissed.

  I just give her a look and she has the decency to look embarrassed.

  “I’ve got it covered,” I say.

  “Good. I just want you to be safe. I know I haven’t set the best example in the past.” *cough* Understatement *cough*.

  I suppose I have to give her credit for trying to make sure I’m not going to get Fake Pregnant from the Fake Sex I’m going to have.

  “Thanks, Haze.” I put my arms out for a hug.

  “Okay, show me what you’re wearing when we go out.” I haven’t even thought about it yet. Whatever is clean? I get up and find some jeans and a cute t-shirt that makes my boobs look okay, and covers what it needs to cover.

  “Oh, hell no.” How did I know Hazel wasn’t going to approve? She tears through my drawers, going straight to the clothes that I tend to avoid. Pulling out a low-cut tank top with lace across the front and straps that will barely hold my boobs up, she grins at me. I’ll definitely be busting out all over.

  I wonder if Jett is a boob or a butt man. I’ve got both.

  I take the tank top from Hazel. I can always put a sweater on over it, I suppose. She approves of my jeans, but grabs some boots from her own closet. Having the same size shoe as your roommate is really the best situation to ever find yourself in. Plus, her shoes are fancier than mine.

  “These will make your legs look longer,” she says, handing me a pair of her classic black BBs. I can rock those. I hope.

  “So you’re happy?” she says as I put the boots on to check to see if I can walk in them.

  “Yeah, I am.” I may be lying to her about the fact that I’m dating Jett, but I can’t lie about that. He does make me happy, and I love being around him.

  “Good.”

  I dress in the tank top, jeans and boots the next night and leave my hair down and wild. I always feel sexier with my hair down. Hazel’s already at work and the other girls will be over soon. And Jett. Jett is coming to pick me up.

  I’m just fluffing my boobs to make sure they’re secure and not going to jump out of my bra, or do anything else unexpected when there’s a knock at the door. I take one last look at my boobs and go to answer it.

  Jett’s standing on the other side, illuminated by the light on the porch. Damn.

  His hair is
sculpted up into a mohawk and he’s got a distressed shirt with a tie printed on it under a leather jacket, torn-up jeans and Chucks. It’s an effortless cool that makes me question my own outfit and lack of coolness factor. I finally look up at his eyes and see that he’s staring at me. Or, he’s staring at me, but his eyes keep skipping over my boobs. In all fairness, it’s not his fault. They’re pretty obvious and you can’t miss ‘em.

  “See something you like?” I say, using his phrase.

  “A few things.” His eyes go back to my face and he smiles.

  “You wanna come in, Fake Boyfriend?”

  “I would love to, Fake Girlfriend.” I let him in and give him the grand tour. I’d spent most of the afternoon sprucing up the place as much as it could possibly be spruced. I’d lit a few scented candles to make it kind of romantic.

  “I set up the bed for you. The sheets are clean and I hope that’s enough pillows.” I may have overdone it.

  “Yeah, looks great,” Jett says, picking up one of the pillows and then tossing it down again on the spare mattress.

  “So you ready for our first outing, Fake Boyfriend?”

  “I am, are you?” Oh, isn’t that the question? He turns around and his eyes automatically go to my boobs and then back up to my face, as if he has to force them.

  “I’m ready. And I’m not going to punch you for staring at my boobs. I’m not one of those girls how throws them out there and then gets pissed when people stare at them. I mean, isn’t that what you want?” I put my hands on my hips and he clears his throat and looks away.

  “Well, it’s good to know that I’m not going to get punched for staring at my Fake Girlfriend’s chest. Now if someone else does, I’m going to have a problem with that.” There’s that smile I adore. “Don’t worry, I know the Vulcan nerve pinch.”

  “What is the Vulcan nerve pinch?” I’ve never really seen a lot of Star Trek. I’m more of a Star Wars girl.

  “Here.” He comes to stand behind me so my back is right up against his chest. Oh. Hello there.

  “So you’re supposed to go unconscious when I do this.” One of his hands pinches right at the base of my neck where it meets my shoulders.

  “Are you sure you’re doing it right? All I feel is pinching.” It feels kind of nice, actually. A bit like a massage.

  “I guess we’ll just have to practice,” he says in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He removes his hand from my neck, but doesn’t step away from me. He’s really warm. I lean back a little bit and he sighs.

  And then the front door opens and voices invade my apartment.

  Jett jumps away from me as if I’m on fire.

  “Hello?” Jordyn’s sweet southern voice says and I turn around to face Jett.

  “You ready, Fake Boyfriend?” I hold up my hand for a high five.

  “I’m ready, Fake Girlfriend.” We slap hands and walk out into the kitchen.

  “Hey, I’m Jordyn.” Raised with Southern Values, she always acts like she’s working a garden party. She also likes to shove things under the rug and pretend they never happened, which is why she makes no mention of what happened the night I went home with Jett.

  Jett shakes Jordyn’s hand and then she introduces Tanner. He’s got a Harley Davidson shirt on and looks kind of stoned. Or maybe that’s just how his face is all the time. He’s cute otherwise.

  Daisy comes in behind them, looking a little bitter that she doesn’t have a guy, but then Jett mentions Javier and her eyes light up. Lovely.

  “Hey, will you help me with something?” Cass says, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the bathroom as Daisy and Jordyn follow.

  “What do you need ‘help’ with, Cassandra?” I say as they shut the door and all round on me.

  “Okay, so we all feel like shit about what we did, but we wanted to make sure that you’re being careful with this guy,” she says. The other two nod.

  I’m pissed. I’m about ready to blow, but then that would cause drama and the guys are waiting. My parents constantly fought when I was growing up, and I think that has affected my ability to have normal relationships. Or maybe I’m just screwed up. At any rate, I’m not doing this. I will not engage.

  “This conversation never happened,” I say, and push past them and go back to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, we all pile into Jett’s hunk-of-metal-that-tries-to-pass-as-a-car.

  “Are you sure this thing is a car?” Daisy says, trying to put her seatbelt on without much success.

  “You never insult a man’s ride,” Tanner says, slinging his arm around Jordyn. I love the girl to pieces, but she’s got a fetish for men who treat her like crap. Ironic, considering the speech I just got in the bathroom. At least Hazel had stayed out of it this time, but maybe only because she’s at work.

  “She’s a good girl,” Jett says, patting the dashboard. What is it with guys and their vehicles? Not that I can talk. I’m crazy attached to my collection of used books. I have them on a special shelf in my bedroom and I sometimes talk to them. That’s not weird, right?

  I’m in the front seat with Jett and everyone else is squished in the back. Javier is already at the party.

  “He’s probably wasted enough for two people already,” Jett mutters to me.

  “Oh, that should be fun.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Finding a parking spot anywhere near the frat house is nearly impossible. Yes, it’s a weeknight, but that’s not going to stop anyone from getting their drink on.

  We finally find a spot on the side of the road and pile out of Jett’s car. I make sure my cardigan is pulled tight in front of my boobs.

  The two guys have their hands full of us trying to walk in our wobbly heels on the shoulder of the road. Talk about dangerous.

  “Who knew walking was a full contact sport?” Jett says, practically carrying me as the heels of Hazel’s boots sink into the gravel and I keep stumbling.

  “We girls just like to make things complicated,” I say with a laugh as his arm comes around me and hauls me out of a hole. We finally make it to the house without any major incident.

  The party is in full swing when we walk in. The beer is flowing, the music is loud and I’m pretty sure they’d bought out an entire Sam’s Club’s worth of red plastic cups. There’s even a pyramid of them along one wall. They must be glued together, because that’s the only way those things are staying up with all the bodies banging around in front of it.

  Jett spots Javier on the other side of the room. He’s at one of the kegs, filling up people’s cups.

  “Is he even a member of this frat?” I yell over the music.

  “Uh, no. He’s sort of an honorary member of, like, every frat. His minor is in keg tapping.” I don’t doubt it.

  Javier waves us over and shoves cups at us as he keeps filling. Jordyn goes off with Tanner when he spots some of his friends, and Daisy flirts with Javier a little bit before another guy comes over and steals her away.

  “Be safe,” I yell as she gives me a little wave over her shoulder.

  “You can dress them up, but you can’t take them out,” I say to Jett as we find a corner where we can stand without being in the midst of the insanity. Jett reaches for my hand and I twist our fingers together. Then he pulls them up to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand.

  It makes butterflies start banging together in my stomach like the dancers that are grinding together near the speakers.

  “You look great, you know that?” He swings our joined hands back and forth and I have an almost irrepressible urge to giggle like a little girl.

  “Compliments aren’t part of the Rules, but they should be,” I say, squeezing his hand.

  “Why are you losers over here?” Javier says, finally leaving his post at the keg.

  “Just admiring this lovely lady,” Jett says with a wink.

  “Stop it,” I say, turning away.

  “So, you two together now?” Jett just holds up our hands and I try to giggle
like a girl in love. It comes off sounding a little bit crazy, but no one seems to notice.

  Javier just shakes his head.

  “Keep drinking.” And he walks away.

  “That’s his usual advice,” Jett says, taking a sip of his beer. I take a sip too. At least it’s cold. That’s about all I can say in its favor. A few people come over to say hello to Jett. He’s not Javier, but he’s still popular. I kind of feel like I’m hanging with someone famous. He makes the point to introduce me as “his girl” every time someone stops by, and the butterflies in my stomach start moshing every single time. This relationship might be Fake, but the butterflies feel pretty real.

  I shake hands and am brought more drinks and try to memorize names and faces until my head is spinning from that and the amount of alcohol in my veins.

  “Do you want to get some air?” Jett says a little while later. It’s definitely stuffy in the room with all the bodies bumping into each other.

  “Sure,” I say. We walk out behind the house and back to where there are a few trees that separate this house from the one next door. The sound of the party dims, but we can still hear shouts of revelry in the night. It’s dark, but I walk with purpose until I stop and turn to face him. He almost crashes into me.

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “It’s okay.” He leans up against a tree and I lean next to him. It’s chilly, and the air hurts a little bit to breathe, but it’s better than being inside.

  “It’s times like these when I wish I had a cigarette.” What? I didn’t know he smoked.

  “I wouldn’t care if you did.” My family all did and I grew up with my house smelling like an ashtray.

  “No, no. If I start again, I won’t want to stop. You cold?” I’m shivering and any minute now my teeth will start chattering.

  “A little. But we can stay out here if you want.”

  He shakes his head. “Let’s go back in. Hey, it’s probably good we came out here. They’ll probably think I dragged you off for a quickie against a tree.” I wonder if that was his master plan.