Page 18 of Play Fake
“Yeah. How long we’ve been dating. Our favorite restaurant. Your favorite color. Our song… things like that.” He rattles off, and I catch his profile turn ever so slightly, like he wants to look at me.
“You really haven’t dated anyone since middle school, have you?”
“I’ve dated.”
“I doubt it.”
“Listen Mac, I know you hate my guts, but it might surprise you to find some women actually find me charming.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”
I see him smile out the corner of my eye and immediately regret my words.
“Then why doubt that I’ve dated?”
“Our song? Favorite restaurant? Sounds like someone who hasn’t dated since they were 12 and took girls to hold hands at the skating rink and drink a milkshake.”
“I’ve dated—a lot.” He emphasizes “a lot” like he has something to prove and I’m thankful for it because it reminds me why I’ve never let myself truly get interested in guys like him. An occasional fleeting thought? Sure. But nothing more because I have zero doubt there have been a lot of women in his life and in his bed. I’ve seen him enough at parties to know it for a fact. But sleeping with women does not equal dating women.
“Oh really? How many dates have you been on this year?”
He takes a breath to answer, but I cut him off.
“And before you respond, the fact you merely ate food or got a drink at a party before you hooked up doesn’t count. I’m talking about you asked her out, you planned it, you put effort in, and you both agreed it was a date.”
He grunts.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Well, whatever. Just saying, if there’s anything we should discuss, so we’ve got our stories straight.” He mumbles as he turns the corner.
“No one will ask anything. They’ll all be focused on the band. It’s a big night for them. You’re just there to stand next to me and look pretty.”
“Got it.” he answers quietly.
It is a huge night, and I want to be there for Ally. I’d been there for them since they’d started by playing gigs in people’s garages and living rooms. I’d sat tucked away in a corner of the studio when they’d recorded their first album. I cheered Ally on when she’d nailed her first drum solo live. And I’d been there when Ezra had finally noticed me, as someone other than Ally’s friend who sold merch in the back of their shows sometimes. Now I’d be there when they got their first big paid gig, even if it meant watching my ex with the woman he’d cheated on me with.
* * *
We’d takenup a spot at the bar where Waylon was busy making small talk with the bartender about football stats. I was perched on a barstool, pretending to be carelessly enjoying the opening act while carefully surveying the room for any sign of Ally, or less optimistically, Ezra andher. I was not excited about the idea of being caught off guard by them.
After about ten minutes, I finally catch sight of Ally and wave at her. She smiles and comes bounding over, all light and energy like she always is.
“You came!!!” She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “Thank you so much! I was worried you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have blamed you. Who wants to see that ass after what he did, but I’m so glad you did!!”
I hug her back tightly; thankful I’ve at least made my friend happy.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
She smiles at me and then I watch her face transform as she notices the man behind me. Right. I forgot about him for a minute.
“You must be Ally.” Waylon’s voice comes from behind my shoulder, and I glance over him briefly before returning my attention to her.
“And who are you?” her eyes flit between the two of us, something dancing just behind them. “Is this… the new guy? Because if so, upgrade. Major upgrade.”
I laugh and shake my head. I’d worried a little about how things would be with her stuck in the middle of Ezra and me.
“Waylon. And I like to think so.” He comes around my side to shake her hand, and she pulls him into a hug, never one to settle for partial measures.
