“Is that Javier sober?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“Wow.”
Jett sighs.
“I know.”
Jett and I have another little fight when it comes time to go to bed. I just feel so bad about making him sleep on his couch.
“It’s more comfortable than the floor. I don’t have an extra mattress. Please stop making a big deal out of this. I’m not trying to be chivalrous.”
We both sit on the bed, him with his tank top and shorts, me in my dorky pajamas.
“We could share,” I say without looking at him. My mouth is a little dry as I suggest it, but it’s the only solution I can think of that will make me feel okay.
“There might be incidental contact if we do that,” he says, his voice just as soft.
“That’s . . . fine. I’m okay with it. Plus, if Javier comes back, there won’t be any more explaining to do.”
“I might knock you out again,” he says, pretending to punch me again in slow motion, but stopping just short of hitting my face. I make myself laugh.
“I’ll be careful.” I finally look up into his eyes. They almost swirl like a kaleidoscope. I could sit and watch the turning colors for hours. But he would have to blink eventually.
I stand up and Jett turns down the covers.
“Do you want the inside or the outside?”
“Outside.” So if I have to pee in the middle of the night I can do so without waking him. Or if I decide to run away, it’ll be easier and stealthier.
He gets in and I quickly realize that he takes up a lot of room in the small bed. We’re going to get pretty intimate. Well, we might as well if we’re going to play off this Fake Dating.
I get in with my back to his front and pull the covers over. Jett is as far away from me as he can get; practically plastered up against the wall. I scoot forward, until I’m almost falling off the edge.
“You can touch me. I’m not going to break,” I say and he moves a bit closer. I can feel the heat coming off his skin as it warms the air under the blankets.
I shift myself until I’m comfortable and close my eyes, inhaling the clean scent of his pillow. He sighs behind me and moves a tiny bit closer, and I can feel his breath stirring my hair. And then his arm encircles me, coming over the blanket. My eyes fly open, not that he can see, and my stomach muscles clench. The arm moves just a little more until it’s completely around me.
Jett is holding me. In his bed.
“Goodnight, princess,” he says in my ear.
“Goodnight,” I somehow say, and close my eyes. It’s going to be a while until I fall asleep.
At least, I thought it was going to be hard to fall asleep. But Jett’s breathing behind me, and his warm arm around me make me feel safe and not alone. It’s nice and cozy, and my body likes it. All of me likes it.
In fact, I like it so much that the next time my eyes open, I’m not looking at Jett’s wall of art. I’m looking at Jett. His chest, specifically.
His arm is still around me, and somehow during the night I’d pulled my hands under my chin, one grabbing onto his shirt. My legs are so warm that I’m almost hot. My pajama pants have ridden up, so we’re skin to skin from my knees down. His legs are hairy, but guys’ legs are supposed to be. If they were hairless, I’d be worried. I turn my head ever so slowly and I can see part of the red dragon across his chest. His heart beats against my hand and his chest expands as he breathes. It’s fascinating. I feel like a disgusting love song should be playing in the background.
He makes a noise and shifts a bit, pulling me closer.
“Your hair smells good,” he says, his voice rumbling against my fingers.
“Good morning,” I say because that’s what you say in the morning, even though you’re in a situation you don’t know how you got yourself into.
“How did this happen?” I assume he means how we’re currently positioned.
“I have no idea.” I let go of his shirt and his arm loosens from around me so I can roll back a bit and look at his face. His eyes are a little puffy, and his hair is all over the place. He’s adorable and disheveled and I hope I look the same, even though I’m sure I don’t.
“This is an interesting turn of events,” he says.
“Uh huh.”
Please don’t let my breath stink. Please don’t let my breath stink.
I want to cover my mouth so he can’t smell my funk, but there isn’t really a way to do that, so I just turn my head so I’m looking up at the ceiling. I also close my mouth. Jett props his head on his hand and I can feel him looking at me.
“Stop it,” I say, grabbing the covers and trying to pull them over my head.
He won’t let me.
“Why?”
Do I really have to explain?
“Because.”
“Because why?” Oh, we’re doing that routine? I feel like I’m three again.
“Because it’s weird and creepy and it makes me uncomfortable.” It also makes me very aware of my flaws and how much I wish I was someone else at the moment.
“Silly girl,” Jett says, stretching his arms above his head, his shoulders popping. “We should probably get up. How about we go out for breakfast? I really don’t have much here.”
“Sounds good,” I say. Ugh, I have to get up first and I don’t want to, but I roll sideways and get my feet under me. Jett is right behind me, with his hands on my shoulders. He leaves them there for a second and then lets go and I dash to the bathroom to make myself somewhat presentable.
Integrating Jett into my life has been almost seamless. I thought I would have to move things around and take things out, and compromise, but it’s like my life changed to fit him in it. Like he needed to be a part of my life, so he is. That sounds strange, after knowing him for such a short time, but it’s like he’s always been there. I’ve also saved all of the cranes he’s made me, which are all living in my sock drawer. At least I’ll have them when this is over.
Not to say that everything is smooth and bump-free. Oh, there are plenty of bumps. He almost walks in on me changing once, and I’m terrified to fart or burp or anything else like that in front of him. We’re just not ready for that stage yet. I think it takes a while to get there, even with friends. Jett has also had some mornings when he’s woken up, um, with a little issue in his pants, but he turns over and I pretend not to notice. I just can’t deal with that. I just can’t.
Our Fake Dating charade seems to be working, and everyone appears to be buying it, at least so far. Jett and I hold hands and give each other adoring looks and use stupid nicknames and part of it makes me want to hurl and the other part of me adores it and wishes it were real. I keep the wishing on the down-low, though. I don’t let myself do too much of it, because this isn’t real. I’m playing a part and he’s playing a part and that’s it. One month. We’re a week down and everything is going good. I can’t ruin it by wanting something that I can’t have.
“You’re going to be fine. I think you over study and psych yourself out. Have you ever gotten less than an A on anything?” he says when we’re in the library and I’m stressing out about my next test.
I stick my tongue out at him. “Yes, I have.” Twice. Once in high school and once in college. It will never happen again. I won’t let it. Even if I get a 90.01, it’s better than an 89. Always.
Jett should be one to talk. I happen to know that his grades are impeccable. He’s one of those a**holes that learning comes naturally to. People think my good grades come easy, but they don’t. It’s a lot of blood and sweat and tears and massive amounts of caffeine and lost sleep to get where I am. I simply want this more than I want anything else. More than drinking, or hav**g s*x, or watching another episode of The Real Housewives of Bitchtown.
“Don’t diss my study methods. Not all of us can be as academically gifted as you are, babe.” I’m trying out nicknames for Jett. I’m not sure if I like this one.
“Whatever, princess,” he says, flicking one of the cranes so it lands in the middle of my open textbook.
“I’m starving. Wanna get something to eat?” I move the crane and then close my book. I’ve still got some more to do, but it can wait. I want to stare at Jett’s eyes for a little while. I deserve a reward for a job well done.
“Brilliant plan from a brilliant girl.” The butterflies start rocking out in my stomach again. They do it whenever he says something like that. I thought it would get old, but it hasn’t yet. I kind of want to get used to it, because it’s hard to deal with the ups and downs of this Fake Relationship. Almost as if it was a real one.
Jett blows his straw wrapper at me, and it hits me before I can duck and gets stuck in my hair.
“Jerk,” I say, and then I do the same to him. Of course I miss. He sticks his tongue out at me and I want to kick him under the table.
“Well, if isn’t the happy couple,” Javier says behind me. Oh, Javier. I really can’t get a read on him. I’m still trying to figure out if he’s serious most of the time, or if he’s putting on a show for my benefit. From what Jett has told me, he’s like that all the time.
“Hello, Javier,” I say, turning and meeting his grinning face atop his jacked up shoulders. I’ve been dying to ask Jett if he’s on steroids, or if he just works out a lot. He must also be naturally gifted.
“What are you nerds up to?”
“Just because we study, doesn’t mean that we’re nerds. Besides, nerds are the ones who run this country. Who could bring the world to its knees? Computer hackers,” Jett says. He does have a point.
Javier just shakes his head.
“Believe what you want.” He’s wearing a t-shirt and those swishy workout pants that make noises when you walk. He’s also glistening with sweat. Must have just come from the gym.
“You’re so full of shit, Javi. I happen to know that you have good grades.” Javier’s eyes go wide and he looks around and then leans on the table.
“Shh, don’t let that spread around. It would ruin my reputation.”
“Haven’t you heard? Smart is the new sexy,” I say. I think smart has always been sexy, but the rest of the world has taken a little while to catch up.
Javier just laughs and shakes his head.
“So, I was wondering if you book whores would like to maybe go out and do something fun for a change. They don’t look too closely at IDs at the bowling alley and they have great Jell-O shots.” Ugh. I detest Jell-O. It makes me gag. Nothing should ever be that texture, no matter what it tastes like. And I also suck at bowling. But I don’t want to alienate Javier, and we did say that we would go out in public. So it looks like this is our chance. Hopefully I can get one of the other girls, or even a few, to come with me as a buffer. I wonder if Javier is going to bring the girl with the non-dress dress that I met that first night. I’d rather not see her again.
“Yeah, sounds great,” I say.