Page 14 of Lessons in Faking
“Why?” he repeated. My uneasiness only seemed to make his amusement grow. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I cooed. “Maybe because it means you’ll have to actually spend time with me. And you don’t particularly like me.”
Poor Princess Pressley. Can’t believe someone wouldn’t be thrilled to spend time with her.
McCarthy shrugged, eyes shifting. “I don’tparticularly likeyour brother any more.” He mocked my choice of words.
“And you want nothing in return?” I asked, still wary. “God knows you wouldn’t do me a favor if your life depended on it, McCarthy. So what’s the catch?”
He stretched beside me. With his arms in the air and long legs extended, he was the picture of tranquility. Our eyes connected when he opened them again. “I’m getting everything I want, Pressley.”
And for some unknown reason, he looked genuine. It still wasn’t enough.
“And what would that be?”
Therehadto be a catch here somewhere, right?
McCarthy sighed. “Let’s see...” He pretended to think over his answer for a moment. “A beautiful girlfriend on my arm when I walk around campus—” He immediately cut himself off as amusement glimmered on his face. “I’m sure people won’t mind the horrible attitude, unfunny jokes. Right?”
“Because you’re such a comedian,” I spat back, ignoring thebeautifuland latching onto what I knew him for: the insult. “Just say no, and I can find someone else.” I was bluffing. There wasn’t anyone on this planet my brother would like to see me with less. But McCarthy didn’t need to know that.
“I said yes,” he reminded. “I’m sure you remember?”
“You’re not acting like that’s your final answer,” I said. I shook my head quickly. “So I’d rather skip the back and forth and move on to you saying no, like you will anyway.”
“So little faith,” he mused. “I’m saying yes,let me be your fake boyfriend, Pressley.” His voice took on a fakepleading tone when he intertwined his hands in front of his chest. “Do you want me to beg? Is that what you want?” He pretended to move to get on his knees. Of course, he never would.
“So you’re serious?” I deadpanned. Not a hint of humor on display.
“Dead.”
“And you want nothing in return?”
McCarthy thought for a moment. “Fine,” he conceded. “Even if seeing your brother lose his mind is enough for me, if you want me to want something in return...” He eyed me just to make sure I realized how ridiculous it sounded. “Let’s just say you’ll owe me. A favor for a favor.”
Can’t complain now. “All right.” But something about the calm demeanor, the lightning answer, still felt...off. I couldn’t shake the feeling. “And you’re sure you know what you’re—”
“Getting into?” he cut me off, and I nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure I want to see you be my girlfriend, and I’m sure Idefinitelywant to see your brother when he realizes. Is that enough of an honest answer?” His brows rose to make a point. “This seems like an incredibly easy way to do so. So yes, I’m in. It was your idea. What are you so hesitant about?”
“Your ability to be a convincing boyfriend.” It slipped out. And I didn’t regret it.
“I can be a very convincing boyfriend,” he rebutted.
I snorted humorously. “You don’t even date.”
“I go on plenty of dates.”
“Yeah, but you don’tdate, do you?”Please don’t ask me how I knew that.“Like, the same person, multiple times. After she slept with you.”
I didn’t really mean to be as caught up on the subject of his dating history as I was. Girls just talked: when they were in the library, when they were getting ready to go out, when they were drunk in bathrooms. And if you stayed to listen, you could hear their conversations through the closed doors quite easily.
McCarthy’s lips broke into a smirk, and I wished the ground would open up beneath me, before he had even said anything. “Is this a frequent topic in the Pressley household?” he asked curiously, smiling. “My relationships? Dates? Say, do you have a file of every girl I’ve been with?”
Why couldn’t he just agree with me so that I wouldn’t have to drive this point homeso hard? He knew I was right.
“Can’t really blame Henry after Paula.” I shrugged quickly, shifting my eyes to study the brick wall behind us. “Besides,” I added in an amused drawl. “That file would be thin, only proving my point.”
“Paula?” McCarthy tilted his head, a little hesitant as he ignored the rest of my words. “Castillo?” I nodded. “What does Paula Castillo have to do with anything?”
