Page 93 of Faux Real
Kenny: Kaaayyyy, well I gotta finish getting ready and I guess I’ll see you in an hour
Ollie: I can’t wait
Kenny: Me too! I’m excited ^.^
“What are you smiling at, Ollie?” Raven asks, coming up behind me, the strength of her dollar store perfume suffocating me.
“Nothing,” I say, meeting her devious gaze. “Can I help you with something?”
Raven rolls her eyes. “For the amount of weed you smoke, you’d think you’d be less uptight.”
I snort. “I amnotuptight.”
“So then you just don’t like me,” Raven muses, tossing me a coy pout as she runs her fingers across my shoulders. “How can I change that?” She leans down and whispers in my ear, “I know of a few ways I can umm... help youde-stress.”
“What alovelyoffer—” I shrug off her hand. “But I’m not interested.”
“Really?” she asks, a hint of annoyance in her tone as she crosses her arms. “Come on, Oliver, I know you want to.”
I blink at the delusional girl in front of me. “No, I really don’t. Trust me.”
“Sure,” she says, flipping her hair. “We’ll see about that.”
I grin in spite of myself. “I love the confidence though.”
“See? Breaking you already.” She winks at me. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Best of luck with that,” I say, checking the time. Thirty minutes. Shit.
“Youarenervous, aren’t you?” Raven asks, narrowing her eyes at me. “You don’t need to be, Ollie. You’re gonna kill it. You always do.”
I toss her a weak smile. “Appreciate it.” She’s right.
I am nervous.
Just not for the show.
twenty-eight
Brace for Impact
KENNEDY
“Maxine!”Icryout,tugging on the frayed edge of the plaid button-up my so-called best friend has forced me to wear. “I look like a lumberjack! All I’m missing is a damn axe!”
“Oh my God!” Max groans, sitting up crossed-legged on the bed, various articles of clothing obscuring her bed covers. “Will you please chill the fuck out! You look hot, okay? Trust me!”
“I don’t know...” I whimper, catching my reflection in the mirror. “It just doesn’t feel like me.”
“Well, you can always just put on your Hilton uniform and wearthatto the bar if you want,” Max suggests, casting me a challenging glare. “Nothing saysrock showlike a pleated skirt and a fucking ascot. I say go for it.”
“You are so not helping right now!” I glower at Max before checking the time. “Oh God, I need to leave in five minutes, what am I going to do?”
“Kenny—” Max swings her legs over the bed, perching on the edge, head tilted to the side. “Maybe this melodramatic tantrum you’re putting on right now has nothing to do with thetotally fineoutfit I picked out for you but with something else? Maybe asomeoneelse? Hmm?”
“Okay, number one, I amnotacting melodramatic,” I scoff. “Number two, what are you implying? That I’m nervous to see Ollie? Is that what you’re saying? Huh? Huh?”
“Both of you need some serious help,” Maxine mumbles, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath. “Yes, Ken, that’s exactly what I’m implying and honestly, I don’t think you need to be so nervous, from what I can tell, the dude’s into you, okay? So just chill and stopfreaking outover a shirt.”
