Page 4 of Faux Real
“It’s not just him. I think Zeek’s the real brain behind the operation. Sawyer’s just along for the ride.”
“Ezekiel? The running back?” I ask, shocked by all this juicy gossip. I guess spending two months away from the city has left me way out of the loop. Although, I don’t think I would’ve survived an entire summer in New York, constantly worrying about bumping into Sawyer. Based on his Snap stories, he didn’t end up going away for the summer, not that I was creeping or anything.
“Yeah, I heard from Olive that Zeek’s dad went bankrupt, and they could barely afford to pay this year’s tuition. Apparently, his dad had to take out aloanfrom the bank.”
“Oh, my God! A bank loan? That’s horrifying. Is he okay? He must besoupset. Is he going to be able to afford our senior trip? He can’t miss that!”
Maxine shrugs. “I think so? I saw him moving in his shit earlier, so I guess he came up with the money. I think he’s just glad he doesn’t have to go to a public school and live with his parents all year.”
I tilt my head. “I think we’reallglad we don’t have to live with our parents.”Or stepparents.
Max rolls her eyes. “Speak for yourself, I happen to like my mom and dad. Plus, Connecticut is so lame. There’s like nothing to do here.”
She’s been saying the same thing for three years and yet she still comes back to Hilton, even though I’m sure her parents would let her go to a public school in New York if she asked.
“You like your parents because they let you do whatever you want. They’re not even forcing you to apply for college.”
Not that Maxineneedsto go to college. Her family won the Powerball lottery ten years ago and they’ve been living like royalty ever since. Unfortunately, those of us that come fromold moneyhave to live up to certain expectations—like getting into Harvard. But I’m confident I’ll get early admission seeing as both my parents are legacies and donate a shit-ton of money to the university.
“Sorry that my parents are cooler than yours,” she sings while fixing her neon yellow thigh-high stockings which arenotstandard issued school uniform.
“You know you’re going to get written up for wearing those, right?”
“Oh no, an hour of detention. How will I survive?” Maxine feigns crying.
I roll my eyes. “It’s only the first day and you’re already breaking the dress code. What else is new?”
Maxine pouts, trying to be cute. “But you love me regardless, right?”
“Of course I do!” I swing my arms around my petite and ballsy friend. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t write you up.”
Max pinches my side, and I jump back yelping. “Please don’t tell me you’re a goddamn Hall Monitor this year! Kenny, that’s so lame!” Max whines, shaking her head feverishly.
I cross my arms. “I’m not a Hall Monitor, I’m aStudent Liaison Officer.”
“Dude, that’s just a fancy word for Hall Monitor,” Max scoffs. “Why would you do this to yourself? This is like social suicide!”
Always so dramatic!“Because it’s going to look fucking amazing on my application to Harvard, okay? Also, bear in mind that ifI’mthe SLO for our class,youcan sneak out whenever you want, andIcan cover for you. If someone else was the SLO, they’d totally report you.” I look at her smugly, seeing the rusty gears in her mind turning.
“Oh, shit!” Max laughs, slapping my shoulder. “This is dope! I’m basically safe all year!”
“Mmm...” I squint at her. “Well, actually...”
“What? Are you seriously going to write me up? I’m your friend!” Max frowns, pretending to wipe a tear from under her eye. “Yourbestfriend!”
“I have to be fair to the other students, Max, but don’t worry, I’ll be very lenient with you. Like one ticket a week.”
SLOs can only issue tickets for misdemeanor infractions, which usually just result in detention or kitchen duty. Those aren't big deals. Every student at some point has gotten one, besides me,obviously. According to our school’s policy manual, the big no-nos that peoplereallyneed to avoid are the Big Five: possession of a weapon, drug/alcohol use on campus, physical/ sexual assault, and excessive bullying. I guess normal bullying is fine. We just can’t betoomean. Personally, I think that’s far too subjective to be a concrete rule, but whatever, I’m not the headmaster.
“One a week!” she shrieks.
I tilt my head to the side. “Max, you were getting like three a week last year, so don’t at me right now.” Max opens her mouth, but I cut her off. “Plus! You’ve been talking to Sawyer behind my backallsummer apparently, which is like breaking all our BFF rules. But am I mad? No, I’m not. You know why? Because I don’t care. And I’m over it.”
Max blinks at me, cocking up an eyebrow. “The fact that you keep saying you’re over it, kinda means you’re not.”
“I am!” I insist, crossing my arms. “Sawyer who?”
“Ken, you’re allowed to be pissed off at him. The guy dumped you for no reason after two years of dating. It’s okay not to be okay.”Oh my God, she sounds like a mental health slogan.
