Page 18 of The Fake
Emily pushes in front of Sydney so she’s walking beside me as we climb the stairs. “You’re going tonight, right?”
“Actually, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m going to stay in.”
“What?! No way,” Emily says loudly and then lowers her voice. “We have to go.”
“We?” I don’t even try to hide the humor in my tone. Emily’s never been mean to me like Bri, but this is the most she’s spoken to me directly. Still, I think we could be friends if it weren’t for the weird situation we’re in, so I don’t call her out for trying to use me to go to my fake boyfriend’s party.
“I think this could be good for all of us. Bri would never admit it, but she’s dying to go. She’s shyer than you’d think when it comes to socializing with people outside the team,” Sydney says as we push out of the building.
Emily nods her agreement.
“So, I just invite her to the party and all will be forgiven?”
She snorts. “God, no. First, we convince her to go, then we have to show her how awesome you are, then maybe she’ll ease up.”
“That sounds simple enough.” I roll my eyes.
“Just leave it to us.” Sydney and Emily take off, smiling and laughing as I follow behind them to practice. Why do I think my fake boyfriend has already been more trouble than he’s worth?
* * *
I’m lying in bed reading when Sydney storms into our room with matching neon green towels wrapped around her body and on top of her head. She’s got a big smile on her face. “Get up. I talked Bri into going and I made a few calls. Practically the whole team is going.” She does a little happy squeal and claps her hands.
“The whole team?” I ask, panic rising. I don’t need any more witnesses to what is surely going to be an epic failure of a night. I don’t know any real details about the party. I don’t even know where Nathan lives.
Resigning myself, I grab my phone.
Me: Hi. It’s Chloe.
I wait for a response, tapping my pinky on the back of my phone. Sydney pulls three different dresses from our closet and puts them on the bed. Her wardrobe is a rainbow of colors and the three she pulled are no exception. A yellow dress with straps that crisscross in the back, a purple strapless spandex number, and a hot pink, super short dress with thick straps and a square neck.
After five minutes of watching Sydney deliberate, pick the hot pink dress and then switch to the purple one, and then go back to the hot pink, I still haven’t heard from Nathan.
Me: So, this party… where is it? The roommates wanna go so looks like I’m in.
I try not to overthink it and press send. This way, if we run into each other, it won’t be like I’m admitting to being into him. I mean, I don’t evenwantto go… except I kind of don’t hate the thought of seeing him again. Outside of class, of course, where I can flee at any second. And it’s just a party. As long as I steer clear of the Everclear and don’t invite him back to my dorm, all should be fine. We’re going to be partners all semester so I might as well get used to spending time with him as friends.
“You should start getting ready,” Sydney says as she plugs in her blow dryer and spritzes her hair with a heat protectant spray. “Parties at The White House are packed. It’s best to get there early.”
The White House? I feel like that name should mean something to me, so I don’t ask what the hell The White House is even though I’m dying to know.
“What happened to showing up to parties fashionably late?” I bite my tongue before I add that at Golden we never arrived at a party before eleven. I need to quit reminding them of my past.
“You can be fashionably late to parties on frat row, but parties at The White House are the kind of events you want to be there for every possible minute. You don’t want to miss anything. I mean, you’ve seen that place, it’s incredible. They’ve had some epic parties there.”
“Mhmm.” I brush past her and disappear into the closet. “How do you guys want to get there? Should we take an Uber?”
She laughs. “Did you guys seriously Uber to parties within walking distance at Golden? We’ll just walk. It would take us longer to get an Uber than it would to walk there. Wear flats and carry your heels; that’s what I always do. We can stop and slip on our heels before we cross over at the fieldhouse.”
I store every piece of information she offers in case I need it later. It’s going to be a very long night.
8
Nathan
Datson is wearinga beer guzzler helmet, passing out cups for the keg, and making a point to talk to every one of the fifty or so people walking around the first floor of our house. He and Shaw moved in today, and Datson has named himself the one-man welcoming committee.
“How are the new roommates?” Gabby asks as I follow her around the party.
