Page 38 of A Follow-Through in Faking
The note ends up being taped under the table we pass, and I only notice it because Santi nudges me in the right direction.
This one reads:
I hold a thousand stories. A thousand lifetimes can be lived in here. I hold secrets from people who have never lived in our world. I hold the kind of love and magic the real world will never offer.
This one doesn’t take me any time at all to figure out either, because he picked another favorite place of mine.
A bookstore.
“Which bookstore is it?” I ask, my gaze meeting his.
“I may have made these too easy. You keep finding out what they mean in three seconds,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry.”
“No, Santi, they are perfect. I love them so much,” I say because I think of my mother’s notes and how difficult it always was to figure out what she meant. I love Santi’s because I don’t think I could handle it if every detail was the same.
This is Santi’s version.
Just his.
The Paperback Bookshop clue led us to the National Gallery of Victoria. From there, we went to the State Library Victoria, where we are right now. We can’t speak loudly here, but Santiago keeps making me laugh anyway. We walk through the romantasy section, my favorite one, and I hate him for knowing that about me as well. I hate that he put the last note of the day in here.
“You pay way too much attention to me,” I say as I pull it out from between not only one of my favorite books, but two of them.
“I disagree,” he replies, tugging a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His thumb briefly caresses the shell of it, but I stare down at the note to ignore how the tips of my ears are now burning.
If you hadn’t become a tennis player, this is where you would have spent one out of twenty-something important weekends of the year.
I furrow my brows for a moment, not knowing what it means.
“I think I’m going to need another clue,” I say, so he takes a step toward me, handing me another envelope.
I giggle at the two words written on this one.
Vroom vroom.
When I was a kid, I used to go karting with my friend Lucian. For a while, I even thought about getting into racing, but tennis has always had my heart. And suddenly, his note makes complete sense.
“Please tell me this means we get to go to the Albert Park Grand Prix Circuit.” Santi just holds out his hand, gesturing for me to go back to the exit and into the car.
I’m sprinting. Then, I’m almost speeding down the road to get there. It’s seven in the evening now, but I’m too overfilled with adrenaline to feel tired. Santi is still grinning beside me, my happiness making him happy.
Because the race isn’t for another couple of months, the track looks very different from how it does during the race weekend. But I still take it all in, joy ebbing and flowing through me in waves.
“This is the best gift anyone has given me in a long, long time, Santi,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand as it forms an O-shape from pure amazement.
“Actually, I think this might be even better than the scavenger hunt,” he replies, grabbing my free hand to twist me his way, all the way against his chest. He’s holding another envelope, and I take it out of his hand, feeling extra greedy.
Inside hide two paddock passes to the Monaco Grand Prix and a note from Santi saying I will be able to get the hot lap experience with none other than my favorite Formula One driver.
Valentina Romana.
“The Monaco Grand Prix is at the same time we both have a little bit of a break. I thought we could attend it together, but you can take Charlie or—” I cut him off by wrapping my arms around him in a fierce hug.
I know he’ll figure out my feelings for him are changing. It was our bet, after all, but I can’t help it. The tears I was doing my best to hold back all day finally drop down my face, but at least I’m getting my revenge on Santi by soaking his nice shirt with them.
“I really thought you’d be the worst fake boyfriend, but you’re actually pretty decent,” I say, my palms flat against his muscular back.
