Page 48 of The Fake
She’s spotted me now and lifts her hand in greeting. I give the smallest of waves with a single pinky finger. The freshmen approach her and there’s some back and forth before one of them leaves carrying my cup and hopefully going inside to fill it. Chloe starts toward me, and I’ve got a weird mixture of excitement and dread coursing through me.
“I feel like I don’t understand what’s happening here. First off, I have no idea how you convinced that gorgeous girl to go out with you, and second—if she really is your girlfriend you should look a lot happier right now. Like get down on your knees and kiss the ground happy.”
When she’s right in front of me, staring down at me with confusion, my chest tightens.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks, looking between me and Joel.
I don’t budge or speak, but Joel is a gentleman and gets to his feet. “Hi, I’m Joel, nice to meet you.”
“Chloe. Same.”
“Ah, you’re the new volleyball chick. Heard about you.”
Her face looks a little panicked until Joel adds, “You had a good season at Golden last year.”
She nods.
“Well, welcome. Can I get you something to drink?” He takes a step toward the house.
“I got it covered,” I say as I spot Fresh coming out with two cups.
“Alright then. Have fun. Play nice, you two.”
Chloe doesn’t wait for an invitation to take Joel’s seat. “Everything okay?”
I nod and Fresh hands Chloe her drink and then me mine and hurries off. I take another long drink, reveling in the burn.
There’s a perfect amount of alcohol that does two things. One, it gives me blinders so that the only thing on my mind is the present. Not my dead dad, my depressed mother, or my brother who is basically raising himself. And two, it allows me to sleep dreamlessly.
Too little and I lie in bed with a thousand thoughts racing through my head and too much and I wake up in a cold sweat reliving the worst day of my life.
I don’t understand psychology and the brain, but I know there’s a perfect amount of Jack that will get that bitch drunk enough to just settle in for a good time without slapping me in the face later.
I’m staring straight ahead at the party going on in front of me when Chloe climbs on to my chair. She parks herself on top of me, sitting on the chair between my legs so we’re sitting face to face. Her long legs fall over the side of the chair, and I rest my drink on her knee without thinking. Touching her has become automatic.
“You look nice.”
The green ties of her suit top are pulled in a perfect bow behind her neck. The same dark green as her eyes.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Being near her reminds me how much I want her and how stupid it was to agree to this fake dating nonsense. Though, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t want her to go back to being isolated and the punching bag for her teammates.
“If this is about last night, I’m really sorry.”
“I get it. We had an arrangement, and I fucked with it.”
She looks pained. “We’re friends. I like hanging out with you. Let’s keep it at that for now, okay?”
“Except when your teammates are around?” I don’t mean for it to come out in such a bitter tone, but it does. I rub a hand over my unshaven jaw. “I’m a dick right now. Give me a few more and I’ll be the life of the party.” I lift the cup and take another swallow.
Chloe takes my cup mid drink, puts it on the ground, and then stands and takes my hand, tugging me forward. I stand and follow as she walks away from the pool.
“Where are we going?” I ask when she leads us inside.
She doesn’t answer and I keep on following along like a chump through the house and out the front door. A silver Mercedes is parked on the curb. California plates C MAC.
“Nice ride,” I say, but she doesn’t get in.
