Page 68 of Caught in a Bad Fauxmance
Having somewhere to go during the day makes the last few days of our trip bearable. Existing under the same roof as someone who hates your guts is emotionally taxing. Granted, Stella and Henry don’t like me much either, but they hate me slightly less than Maya does right now. The day after what I’ve now affectionately dubbed Tres Leches Day, Henry even gave me a ’sup nod. That might’ve come from the lingering guilt over the chowder incident, but still. Undeniable progress.
Meanwhile, I can’t get my own sister to so much as look at me. Breakfasts are torturous. Maya will stare at her cerealuntil I excuse myself and take my toast to my room. Dinners aren’t as bad—at least I’m allowed to stay at the table—but watching Dad try and fail to get Maya to engage with me is painful for us both. She doesn’t even lurk on the front steps when I come back from the Seo-Cookes’ anymore, ready to pounce on me for information.
I’d feel guilty about not exerting any extra effort into reconciling with her if she hadn’t made it clear she’s not going to talk to me anytime soon. I don’t see why I should have to subject myself to feeling unwelcome in my own home.
Now that Maya has dropped me as her spy, I’m free to come and go from the Seo-Cookes without needing to snoop through their dirty laundry. The afternoons post–Tres Leches Day pass by in a haze of cups of coffee, sketches on napkins, and dozens, maybe even hundreds of kisses. Kisses behind trees and in the back of parked cars. Kisses in the moonlight and kisses at sunrise. Fleeting kisses that leave me trembling and all-consuming kisses that make my skin ignite.
In between kisses, Julian and I let ourselves dream about California, about going to galleries and picnics on the beach and hikes through the hills—a testament to how much I like spending time with him. When I sit with those dreams for too long, they melt down slowly, achingly bittersweet as I wonder if they’ll actually become realities. Lake Andreas is our bubble. A shabby but sweet utopia where we’ve convinced everyone that we’re two lovestruck, star-crossed saps who can’t get enough of each other.
But tomorrow we’ll be back on opposite ends of the battlefield.
With Maya icing me out of all forms of communication, I’m not even sure if I’m competing with our family at the games. With her as our self-appointed leader, she could easily remove me from the roster the day of. Losing their slowest runner wouldn’t be a major loss, but Iamtheir best puzzle solver. And a team of five is always stronger than a team of four. I would never forgive myself if they lost because of me. I’m not their saving grace, but if we’re going to let go of our cabin, then we should do it together. But maybe I’ve hurt Maya too deep for her to let me join them.
It’s been easy to skirt around the games while I’m with Julian, but that doesn’t stop it from nagging me every time we’re together. That my home might belong to him by the end of tomorrow. That his dad wants to destroy it for a boat garage.
Our near future may scare the shit out of me, but I’ve spent enough time this year hung up on worrying about things I can’t control. So I stop thinking about the future for once and start focusing on the present, savoring every bit of my newest routine. Mornings and afternoons without classes or mentorships or work study, drinking coffee with Julian in his kitchen, napping together on the couch in their den, listening to music I’m not sure if I like because it sounds good or because it makes him happy. The days don’t have to be exciting. They just have to be with him. That’s enough to make this trip feel worthwhile.
Like today’s wild afternoon: eating leftover takeout and watching a low-budget horror movie about Santa’s most murderous elf. For someone who’s so easily scared, Julian hasdeveloped an unusual penchant for the terrifying during his quest to rot his brain. At this rate his favorite movie is going to beThe Exorcist.
“Come on, that wasn’t even scary!” I shout at the screen after Glitter the Elf takes a swing at his next victim with a candy cane sharpened into a knife. The most horrifying thing about this movie is the acting.
It’s easy to feel brave with Julian squirming beside me, jumping at every sound. He spends more time buried in the dip where my neck meets my collarbone than he does actually watching the screen.
“Felt scary to me,” Julian mumbles indignantly, nuzzling closer to me. Either he knows exactly what he’s doing, or he needs to change up his taste in movies.
“That’s because you’re a wimp.”
He pinches my side, which I definitely deserve, but he doesn’t pull away. I shift my hand from the top of his knee to rest around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer. I had my reservations about watchingGlitter’s Gut-tastic Christmas,but with Julian tucked into me and my fingers tracing lazy circles along his arm, it’s the best movie I’ve seen this year.
Light floods the den, ruining the following jump scare, but startling us enough to fly to opposite ends of the couch. Stella is standing at the top of the stairs, hands over her eyes.
“This is your warning to stop making out,” she shouts. Neither she nor Henry have caught us in any PG-13 situations so far, and we’d all prefer to keep it that way.
Julian lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Is anyone dying?”
“No, but—”
“Then go away.” He unpauses the movie and tugs me into his arms.
The minor display of affection isn’t enough to get Stella to leave. She marches in front of the TV, thoroughly killing the mood, and waits until Julian begrudgingly pauses the movie to speak. “I’m hungry.”
“And? There’s food in the fridge.”
Stella pouts. “Dad didn’t go grocery shopping this week and all that’s left are Henry’s weird protein shakes.”
Julian parts his lips as if to protest, but ultimately decides against it. “Order a pizza.”
“Stop being a dick and give me one of your choco pies.” She holds out her hand inches from Julian’s face.
This is one of the few times he isn’t carrying a stash around with him. He lets go of me to pull the pockets of his sweatpants inside out, holding his hands up in the air. “Sorry, fresh out.”
She rolls her eyes, dropping her hand down to her side. “Then tell me where you keep them, and I’ll get one myself.”
“Nope. Absolutely not.” He starts the movie, turning up the murderous screams to drown out her protest.
“Come on!” She lunges for the remote, and Julian only narrowly manages to push me out of the line of fire. The two of them wrestle over the remote until they tumble off the couch, Stella claiming victory after biting Julian’s hand. “Hand them over.”
Julian scowls, readjusting his shirt once he’s back on the couch. “Devin, please go get her one.”
