by Kristy Marie
Why does he have to be the most lovable grouch ever?
“Yeah,” Aspen speaks up. “If Sebastian is important to you, then he is important to us.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
Aspen pulls back and cuts Fenn a look. “I’m just saying this—” she waves her hand at my attire, “is important to her, so it’s important to us.”
Fenn doesn’t look convinced, but he’s going to do it anyway; I can already see him putting on his game face.
“Fine. I just want you both to know that if I end up in a holding cell, someone will have to give a heartfelt speech—with tears—to Mom. She will kick my ass if I miss another game from another friendly brawl.”
I cringe. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.
“Shut up, Fenn. If you weren’t getting suspended every other Tuesday, this wouldn’t be an issue. Stop making excuses for your behavior.”
Aspen has never been gentle with her brother, but then again, Fenn is never gentle with any of us.
“We got you, Vee. Let’s do this.” I lay my head against Drew’s chest. His words are reassuring and strong, implying that, together, we can take on the world.
“Okay,” I say, exhaling a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
The quad is the most populated area at Havemeyer. It also happens to be Malcolm’s favorite hangout. Here, he can scam and con his nasty little heart out. If shit is about to go down, it goes down at the quad. It’s the place you can get a diet soda with a side of extra dirty drama.
I feel my steps slow as I reach the center of the green space. Surrounded by big oak trees and shaded picnic tables, I scan the area for The Wicked Bitch of the West.
“Did you call in your marker?” I ask, turning to face Aspen. Apparently, Maverick, Sebastian’s best friend, owed her a favor. She really didn’t need anything from him, but since Maverick is all about that favor life, she enjoyed fucking with him by beating the master at his own game.
“I did,” she grins, seemingly pleased she wiggled a favor out of Maverick. “He said he would be here, and Maverick always pays his debts.”
Good. I don’t know a whole lot about Maverick Lexington and his favors, but I do know Aspen, and if she says he will have Sebastian here, then he’ll be here.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and scanning the crowd. As usual, Malcolm is sitting on his throne, aka, a wooden picnic table with his troop of jesters entertaining him with, what is very likely, promises of fame since Sebastian and I haven’t posted another video. The traitor and subpar cameraman, Brick, is also standing next to him with his hands in his pockets and a scowl that will soon be a frown when I get through with him.
Bro thinks he has this in the bag. Bro don’t know shit.
Sebastian and I have a much bigger secret than just being a fake couple: before we were a fake couple, we were true friends under fake pretenses.
And I’m about to expose our secret scandal.
I’m about to lose my reputation at Havemeyer in the process, but, hopefully, our fans will take this spin on the real story and see it for what it truly is.
Love.
Apparently, I have always been willing to do whatever it takes to get Sebastian Carrington, whether that be to score a point on his competitive ass or to make a complete fool of myself, so he can win this competition and move far away from me. But no matter my intentions, my love for him has always been there, buried underneath excuses, pranks, and fake dates.
I loved him the first time my lips touched his and now…
My stomach knots.
And now, I’ll love him even when he leaves for California, after winning his half of the prize money. There is no doubt we will win this competition. Our secret is what movies are made of.
“I need my camera,” I say to Aspen, nodding my head to myself.
This is it. I’m doing it. I’m doing this insane stunt, so my asshole amigo, the bro to my bromance, and my own personal neighborhood demon can win this competition.
“Here you go.” She sets the camera in my palm. “Just set it up and tell me what button to push, and I’ll capture everything.”
Somehow, her words aren’t reassuring.
It takes me a minute, fumbling around with the settings, until I get them just right. “When I walk away, push this button.” I point to the one with the red dot in the middle—the one that will end me for the next three years. “Don’t stop until I come back.”
This all feels so death sentence-y. But I guess if I’m walking the green mile down dicks and divas’ alley, I might as well go out as the superstar I am.
“Got it,” Aspen says, her tone perking up quite a bit in the last few minutes. “There’s Maverick with Sebastian.” She points to a table where Maverick is getting food settled for Ainsley.
“He looks so sad,” notes Aspen.
I nod. “He won’t for long.”
I hand her back the camera. “Don’t stop recording,” I remind her one more time. “No matter what happens.”
Aspen grins. “I wouldn’t in a million years.”
Ugh.
“Now, go get your man!”
The smack to my ass startles me forward and my friends’ muffled laughter keeps me from looking back. My friends might laugh, but they won’t let anything happen to me—at least physically. Mentally—only my future therapist knows.
The walk to Malcolm’s table of shitheads is long and filled with so many deep breaths that, instead of feeling calmer, I feel a little lightheaded. Gah! That’s all I need, to pass out in front of his table and have the paramedics come. That would ruin everything.
Okay, no more breaths. Focus. You did this for months. Today is no different.
“Yo!” I holler, my voice sounding rough and gritty. “Are you Brock?”
Brick’s head snaps up, and he follows the sound of my voice. I know what he sees: dark cropped hair, sideburns, and pasted on eyebrows that should be banned.
“Uhh…” Brick scans the quad, hoping someone will come to his rescue, but they won’t, because if there’s one thing this campus loves, it’s good old-fashioned drama.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you, bitch.” My strides are stronger and more aggressive as I get closer to his table. “You think you can take my job without my permission?”
I can feel Sebastian’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare turn around and face him.
“Uh…” Brick stumbles out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I scoff and try to make it sound like I’m hocking a loogie, but it ends up sounding more like a cough.
“Don’t you lie to me!” I yell, balling my fists like I’m getting ready to swing at the fool.
Clearly, I’m not, but that’s what dudes do. They fight for no damn reason other than to show who has the bigger dick.
Well, here I am, boys. See how big my peen is. Not really, because I don’t have a peen, but that’s the vibe I’m trying to pull off here.
“Where the fuck is Sebastian?” I spin around, knowing good and damn well where he is, but I need him to come into this shot or my plan won’t work. “Sebastian Carrington! Come out and face me, you liar!”
Whispers and awkward coughs sound to my left as the crowd pushes forward and I turn, finally finding my demon douche with eyes as wide as Fenn’s sunglasses.
I crook my finger, yelling across the space between us. “You think you can replace me, bro?”
Even from this far away, I can see a muscle tick in Sebastian’s jaw, which is quite sexy, even when his expression went from disbelief to pure, unadulterated rage with one sentence. But that’s okay. The anger will bring him to me.
“You have nothing to say?” I’m baiting the shit out of him. “I tell you I need a couple months to handle some family business and you think you can enter this competition without me?” I stomp my foot and cringe. “You think you can replace me?” My words are sharp and challenging and that’s all he needs to eat up the space between us and grab my ar
m, hauling me to him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Gah, he really is so predictable.
I push him off and take a step back, pointing to Brick who stares on, confused as to who the hell I am.
“Why am I here?” I spit and grab at my non-existent balls, which sends Sebastian’s ticking jaw into overdrive.
“Don’t do this,” he grits, but it’s too late. I’ve already done it.
“Do what?” I yell for the camera. “Expose you?”
My words are biting, and everything nightmares are made of. Well, Sebastian’s nightmares at least. “I’m just wondering why you hired this asshole,” I point to Brick, “when you knew I was coming back.”
Sebastian shakes his head, and I take a few steps back, closing the space between me and Brick. “You’re a liar and a cheat, but you know what, Brock?” I push at his shoulder and, like the pussy he is, he stumbles. “All the lying and conniving was never going to win Malcolm the competition.”
I turn back and give Sebastian a look that clearly says, brace yourself. “You know why, Bruce?”
Brick wipes his mouth and glares. “Because no matter how sneaky you thought you were, you will never be able to play with the big dogs.”
And with those parting words and nausea in my throat, I rip off the wig and let my long hair drop, ripping off the eyebrows and sideburns and tossing them at Brick’s feet.
“You,” I say in my own voice through the gasps and OMGs, “will never replace me.”
At which point I turn around, leaving Malcolm’s mouth hanging open, and face my naughty neighbor. “And you… should always know we’ll win. MyView is our house.”
Then I launch my ass at the man who once confided in me that he thought beer tasted like an old sock and even lent me his Desitin when I lied and said I had ball chaffing. This man was my bro, my bestie, and my asshole amigo, whether it be when I’m wearing a bra or pretending I have a dick.
This is my human.
Sebastian catches me with an oomph, and I go in for a kiss. I don’t care that everyone is putting it together that I am Tweener, Sebastian’s elite cameraman, and the one who abandoned him only to be right back in his life, playing his fake girlfriend. What can I say? We like to keep our relationship interesting.
Our mouths collide, and Sebastian’s groan fuels my wanting.
I might be crazy.
And I might have embarrassed the shit out of him.
But he still wants me and that’s all that matters.
Well, that and winning this money. There’s no way we won’t at least give Malcolm a run for the prize money with this video.
When I pull back from our kiss, I immediately bury my face in his neck. “I’m sorry I went rogue on you, but I couldn’t let you lose. This is your dream, dude.”
Those big hands that have stolen more shit than is acceptable, palm my ass, ignoring the fact that I have on my uncle Pe’s jeans and boots, and shift me farther up his hips. “I’ve missed your crazy ass, bro.”
Our laughter is met with others, and for the first time since I got here, I allow myself to look around. Amongst the drama hogs, our friends are standing around us: Aspen with a camera; Bennett on guard, looking around like someone is going to snipe us at any minute; Fenn on his phone, so over me being dressed like a boy; and Drew, chatting up one of the girls who looks like she’d be happy to take a ride on Big D. Then there’s Maverick, ready to go, with a tight grip on Ainsley, who I don’t know, but by the way she’s clapping and whooping, I already like her.
“I cannot believe this is what you were doing for two months,” Aspen muses. “How did I miss my bestie dressing up as a guy and living this whole double life?”
I shrug. “I waited until you would sneak over to Bennett’s at night.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “I mean, fell asleep.”
Aspen waves off my comment. “It’s fine. It’s not like Fenn doesn’t know I come over. I always end up using his razor.”
Fenn makes a noise low in his throat. I’m sure he’s used to sharing with his sister and I highly doubt he cares if she is sneaking over to see his friend. “I knew you were into some weird shit, Vee.”
I shrug. “It isn’t weird. Winners do whatever it takes.”
I look back to Sebastian whose face has lost its smile. My heart sinks to my toes. Surely he’s happy we, more than likely, blew up the internet with this crazy show.
“You alright?” I ask him.
He nods and sets me down. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He touches my cheek with his thumb, and it feels final, like this is our goodbye.
I swallow and force a smile on my face. I knew this would happen. I was prepared that if this went well, it would only lead to one of two outcomes. Winning the contest and Sebastian leaving Georgia or exposing our story and embarrassing us both so much that he’s forced to leave Georgia to save face.
“Want a lift home?” he offers.
I look at Aspen who stares back at me. She’s probably wondering the same thing I am. Should I take him up on his offer and endure the ‘what the fuck were you thinking exposing us’ lecture, or should I avoid his goodbye at all costs?
Avoiding sounds pretty good at the moment, but I’m not a coward. “Sure.” I cut Aspen a small smile. “Will you bring my stuff home?”
She nods, and Sebastian gives me his hand, which I take, and follow him toward the parking lot, away from the cacophony of laughter and what was probably an epic exit by Malcolm and Brick.
When we’re in the quiet of Sebastian’s Jeep with the doors locked, Sebastian drums on the steering wheel for a moment. “Just say what you want to say,” I tell him. “I embarrassed us both, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want you to lose out on your dream.”
He doesn’t answer me, only sits there chewing the inside of his cheek.
“Yell at me or something,” I tell him. “I’ve never known you to be so quiet. Are you scarred for life?”
Finally, he laughs a deep rumbling sound that sends shivers across my skin. “What am I supposed to do with you, huh?”
I shrug. “Text me occasionally when you’re all famous.”
His smile drops, and he puts the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. I try not to look like my heart is fracturing into a million little pieces on the backroad to our house, when he finally clears his throat and promises, “Always.”
We don’t speak after that. I guess there’s nothing really to say. We had a deal to win this competition, and although we don’t know that we’ve actually won yet, I think we can agree that we have a good shot at it. Sebastian will see the west coast, and I will stay here, save my money, and finish school. Then, I can decide what to do after that.
We pull up to our complex, and Sebastian jumps out, before I can say anything else like goodbye or thanks for the best year of my life sans the two months you weren’t speaking to me.
“Okay,” I say to myself, as he hustles around the front of the car. “Have a great day. Thanks for saving my ass.”
My door is suddenly wrenched open. “What did you say?”
My eyes meet his, and I suddenly have the urge to kiss him. I open my mouth. “I love you.”
Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
She played her ace, and wouldn’t you know, her crazy prank won us the competition.
There’s just one thing that keeps me from celebrating.
She said she loved me and then slapped her hand over her mouth and ran into her house without another word, which is where she stayed the rest of the evening.
“So, Vee was Tweener all along?”
I’m two beers down after a shot of moonshine. My body is buzzing, and today’s trauma seems a little more catastrophic than it did earlier.
“Yep.” I let the ‘p’ pop as I stare out into the night. Maverick’s apartment doesn’t have that great of a view, but tonight, it’s better than mine and my incessant staring out the window.
Mave
rick chuckles and shakes his head. “And I thought Ainsley was crazy.” He pours a little of his beer out and kicks my foot. “How long was she your cameraman?”
I mumble out the answer. “Two months.”
“Two months! Dude, and you never picked up that she was a girl?”
I shoot him a glare. “I mean, sure,” I start, defending my actions. “She did some things that I questioned, but, you know, everyone has their quirks.” I arch a brow. “Look at you and Ainsley.”
If quirks were a sport, they would come in first every time.
“I’m just saying, any time I would have doubts, she would slam down a shot of moonshine and burp and grab at her junk. It wasn’t as obvious as you think it would be.”
Maverick still doesn’t look convinced. “What about her tits?”
“What about them? Did you notice them at the poker game I brought her to?”
Maverick pauses, more than likely thinking about that night I brought her to the game. Maverick wasn’t impressed, but, like me, he had no idea we were both being played. “Wonder how she hid them?”
I sigh. “That night, right after she revealed herself, I had a few too many drinks and googled all the movies I could find where girls pretended to be guys.”
“You watched them? All of them?”
“Come on.” I huff. “Don’t look so disgusted. I was doing exactly what you were doing. I was asking myself how I didn’t know. I pride myself in noticing beautiful women and I had one sleeping over and spending nine hours a day filming with me. And I fucking missed it. I had to see how she managed to get one over on me.”
“And did the movies tell you?”
I shrug. “They were all different, but the one consistent trick used was bandage wraps to strap down their tits.”
Maverick releases this loud and hearty belly laugh. “Dude, I’m impressed. I’ve never known anyone to get one over on you, much less me.”
It was impressive. I’ve always been able to acknowledge that much but what gnawed at me was the fact I truly believed she was Tweener, my friend and someone I desperately missed once he was gone.