Page 14 of Just the Tipsy
He always remembered to pointthatout, though. As if it wasn’t painful and actively bad for my career. He had to go and say shit like “well, it’s not like it’ll kill you.”
“Thank you. That’s really thoughtful,” I say. “And I’m just dairy free. It’s not an allergy but eating it isn’t good for me.”
“Oh, good, because there’s exactly one vegan option,” he says with a sigh of relief. “If you like barbecue, then you’re set.”
I’ve never had it, but saying that out loud when there are at least five different types of barbecued meat spread out in front of me, buffet style, feels blasphemous.
We fill up our plates and find a table with everyone else. The food is outrageously good — smoky and juicy and flavorful meat, plus a ton of good sides I can safely eat. Once everyone gets the edge off their appetite, an easy flow of conversation comes back.
Thankfully, Jada and Wes are chatty in a way I like, so I don’t have to talk that much and make things awkward. And as far as I know, they don’t think I’m some awful ice queen.
I let out a breath.It’s okay. Everyone is nice. No one is sitting down and interrogating me or Waylon either.
But I can’t help but notice how everyone who walks past us looks at us, like we’re making a fuss even though we’re just sitting there. Their eyes even follow us when we get up and go get more of the moonshine iced tea.
I guess Waylon having a date is more of a big deal than he was letting on.
But why do people care this much? Maybe he’s just popular, which I can easily see too. People keep saying hi. Still. It makes sense for his mom to care about who he’s with, but for half the town to care? Weird.
Being in a small town is really fucking odd in a lot of ways.
“And there’s Waylon’s girlfriend,” Delia says, beaming as she passes by us with a whole fleet of women who look like they might be related to her. “Hi, hun.”
I wave because what else can I do? I resist the urge to look at Waylon. They keep moving, though, like we’re a dull exhibit at the zoo, and head to the table where we were just eating.
“I’ll correct her later,” Waylon says to me, his voice low.
My phone buzzes in my purse yet again, waking Sadie. She pops her head out of my bag likewhat the fuck is it this time?
I quickly check the message. Kyler. Of course. From a different number, once again hyper-fixating on whether I’m seeing someone. It’s getting creepy.
But things suddenly click into place in my head. How did I not think of this before?
“Wait, no,” I say, my voice low even though no one is around us. “This is perfect. We should keep this fake relationship going. My ex is blowing up my phone, asking me if I’m seeing anyone. If you play my boyfriend on Instagram, he’ll stop calling me. Probably.”
Kyler probably wouldn’t push further if I had evidence I was dating someone.
“Is he harassing you?” Waylon asks, frowning deeply.
“He’s harmless.” I wave as if I’m dismissing Kyler the way I wish I could. “Just a little creepy and alotannoying, like a bug. But even after a while, you want to kill a fly, you know?”
He slowly nods, apprehensive. A flare of panic at the idea of him saying no lights up in me even though this idea has only been in my head for less than a minute.
“We don’t even have to show your face - just your back or your side or something,” I add. “And I moderate comments, so people won’t be too awful. Well, mostly.”
Kyler’s fans would be awful to any woman he dated, but they were particularly shitty to me. They thought I was “too bitchy” for him, mostly, which only fueled (completely unsubstantiated) tabloid fodder that I wasn’t nice.
But Kyler is a C-list celebrity at best, mostly known to his fans and people who like his flavor of pop music, so it could be a whole lot worse.
“Plus you mentioned those other events you need dates for. Like Rose and Wes’s wedding. You wouldn’t have to find another excuse,” I add.
He glances around, pensive.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Waylon says after a long pause. “But you’ll have to let me fix up the rest of your house or something to even this exchange out.”
“Seriously?” I grab his shoulder and scan his face to see if he’s kidding. “Thank you. You have no idea how much you’re helping me.”
“It’s no problem.” He shrugs. “Plus, I don’t think we can put this whole dating thing back in the bag anyway.”
