Playing Pretend

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Playing Pretend Page 8

by Juliana Haygert

“What?” I asked.

  “Yes, well, politicians and their families have certain standards,” Matt explained.

  I sighed. “But that’s not her.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do,” I said. “She’s the girl I met during spring break. This one”—I pointed my chin to where she disappeared—“is like a mask she wears.” Matt narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

  “You’ve got it bad,” he said. Brody nodded in agreement.

  “What? Of course not. I barely know her.”

  Matt laughed. “As if that mattered.”

  “I’ve got nothing,” I hissed. “And I’m gonna prove it tonight.”

  Chapter Ten

  Charlotte

  “This is getting harder,” I said, my cell phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder.

  “I think I heard that a couple of weeks ago,” Liana said, on the other side of the line.

  “But now it is even harder.” I halted in front of the tall mirror in my closet and looked at myself. I didn’t look like it, but I felt like a total mess. “It wasn’t this hard before, to do whatever my mother wanted. To be conservative. To dress in pencil skirts and blouses. To wear pearls. To go through political science. I didn’t mind it before, not this much anyway.”

  “That is because …” Liana prompted.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mason, about my life, about my future since I had seen him five days ago at the National Mall. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about any of it since bumping into him at the Memorial Day ball over a month ago.

  I grunted. “You know why.”

  “I do, but I think saying it out loud helps. It’s like your brain won’t really absorb it if you don’t say it out loud.”

  “Then I won’t say it out loud.”

  “Charlotte!” Liana chuckled. “You have to. Come on. Do it.”

  With one free hand, I picked up my dress and put it in front of myself—a deep green cocktail dress with a narrow waist and a flare skirt that fell to my knees. Always to my knees. And the neckline came way over my breasts. No parts exposed whatsoever.

  I sighed. “I can’t … I shouldn’t.”

  “I love you. I always have, and I’ll continue loving you even when you marry that guy you’ve been going out with lately,” Liana said. I cringed, glad my friend couldn’t see me. “And become the next First Lady, and forget all about me. However, if you do that, you’ll forget about you too, you know.”

  Yup. I knew that. “I wish it was easy,” I mumbled.

  “I know. But I’m here, okay. If you need someone to hold your hand or to give you a push, I’m here.”

  I smiled. “I know. Thank you.”

  “Charlotte!” My mother’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Are you ready?”

  “Almost!” I shouted back. Then I spoke into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”

  “All right. Call me later.”

  “I will.”

  “Try to have fun,” Liana said, as always.

  I hung up and slipped on the dress carefully so as not to ruin my makeup and my intricate ponytail. After a little shimmy, I was able to pull the zipper up. I put on my pumps and looked at myself in the mirror again. However, I didn’t see me. It saw Peyton McClain’s daughter, someone I barely knew, someone I barely liked.

  Until recently—until Mason moved to Washington—I had been okay with all of this. I knew my mother would direct my life, tell me what to do, who to date, where to go. I was sure my mother wouldn’t choose anything bad for me. I had been raised to trust my mother, to obey my mother. Yes, I had my few hours with Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca every week and that was all the escape I had needed. Now, it didn’t seem enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be free. I wanted to live my life, to make my choices, to go to art school instead of law, to work for a studio and have my face smeared with charcoal, to live in a messy townhouse in a nice residential neighborhood with kids playing ball in the streets, to kiss the guy I wanted to kiss.

  My mother’s shout startled me out of my daze. “Charlotte! We’re going to be late to the fundraiser!”

  “Coming,” I shouted back, slowly retreating from the mirror.

  In the foyer, my mother stood beside Donnie, who was all smiles.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, and I suppressed a cringe. This was our sixth, maybe seventh date, and he always said the same thing when he saw me. Always. Guess I should be flattered, but the only thing I thought was that he should learn more sentences.

  He took my hand when I reached the last step of the stairs, and hooked it under his arm.

  “Thank you,” I said, my perfect fake smile in place.

  I let him take me to the car, all the while thinking about what Liana suggested. Try to have fun. I would. I really would try.

  ***

  Mason

  I rolled out of bed at 3 p.m. In only my boxers, I dragged my feet to the kitchen and started a new pot of coffee.

  Matt and Brody had gone back to Cali three days ago, and I hadn’t been able to prove that I didn’t have a thing for Charlotte after all. That night I had been called to help at a wedding party. Two of the hired waiters were down and they need more hands ASAP. Because of the nice hourly rate, Matt and I accepted the offer and worked until 5 a.m. Brody, on the other hand, went out by himself and came back to my apartment mid-afternoon the next day.

  Then, I launched back into the club I mostly worked at. After five nights of serving other people’s drinks from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m., I felt exhausted, and I would do it again tonight. It was better than staying home, staring at the walls, and thinking about Charlotte.

  Christ. When things between Tamara and me ended, I hadn’t been this hung up on her. I had been broken by the situation, and I had been distraught about how things ended, about being played for a fool for so long. However, I forgot Tamara quite easily, and it was because of Charlotte, the girl who now inhabited every inch of my mind.

  I groaned, irritated with myself for not being able to control my thoughts.

  The coffeepot beeped and I grabbed a mug from the cabinet. While serving my coffee, I looked at the clock on the microwave and wondered if I should go earlier to the club tonight. It would help take my mind off her. Then tomorrow I would be more tired and would be able to sleep all morning and all afternoon. Ugh, I couldn’t wait until my freaking classes started to give me more to do, but they were still two months away. Two entire months. I would go crazy like this.

  I sat on the stool before the high counter and sipped from my coffee. The newspaper lying beside me caught my attention. Well, something to pass the next five minutes, and I still needed to look for a better job. I snatched it and flipped through the pages.

  Of course, I had to feel worse. A picture of Governor Peyton McClain at a fundraiser event illustrated the fourth page, and behind her stood Charlotte and that guy. Ugh, he looked like her boyfriend. Why would she lie to me? She could easily say that the guy was her boyfriend, which would keep me way. Or so I told myself. Because, honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.

  After meeting with her at the National Mall six days ago, I didn’t know anything anymore. I wanted to go through with my plan, to become the next womanizer in town, not get attached to anyone, but apparently, I was already attached to Charlotte. Christ, after she walked away from me with that Donnie boy, I could barely sleep. I lay in bed for hours, only thinking about her, about ripping that fancy dress from her, about throwing her on my bed, about licking her entire body, and making her scream my name.

  I had to control myself right now. David would come home from work any time now and my roommate didn’t need to witness my hard-on.

  I closed my eyes, breathed in and out, and pictured my fourth grade math teacher cleaning his ear with his pinkie nail. Yeah, that did the trick.

  What good did that do if, when I opened I eyes, I saw her photo again and instantly remembered all of my nights with her? Christ, I needed a cold sh
ower.

  Okay, this was ridiculous. I couldn’t feel this way about her. I didn’t know anything about her. It was insane. And I wasn’t prepared for another relationship. I didn’t want another relationship. Why bother, when someone always ended up hurt? Look at Charlotte and me. Things between us hadn’t even started and it was already hurting.

  There must be a way out of this.

  My plan. Yes, my plan. Women. Lots of them. No attachments.

  I would execute it tonight. Just because I was working, it didn’t mean I couldn’t meet someone, did it? In fact, I had proved it worked, meeting Charlotte that way, and here she was, making her way into my thoughts again.

  I shot up from the stool and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and entering under the cold water in my boxers and all.

  ***

  Mason

  Even though the club wasn’t crowded, the bar area was and, at 1 a.m., I still hadn’t stopped moving and running up and down. What was it with people and Fridays? They all had to come out of their holes and shove alcohol down their throats to survive.

  Finally, past two, things started to slow down.

  A girl plopped down on a stool. Her hair was pitch black, cut into a neat bob, and her makeup was a little smeared.

  “What can I get for you?”

  She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “A kiss?” I stiffened. I hadn’t expected that answer. The girl chuckled. “I’m kidding. A margarita, please.”

  I prepared her drink and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

  “Though, if you know a guy with free lips, I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” The girl played with the little umbrella on her glass. Knowing I shouldn’t be too friendly to customers—club orders—I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you know. Boy problems. Boy is a jerk and girl cries for being stupid. Now girl wants to forget about boy.”

  I sighed. “I think I heard that before.”

  “So, any friends to introduce me to?”

  “No, I’m new around here. No friends yet.” I held my breath for a second, considering my options. Well, she was here, right, so why not? “Though, my lips are free.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and then she squinted, looking at my body. Her cheeks gained a pink tint. “I gotta say, you’re quite handsome.”

  I leaned over the bar. “You aren’t so bad either.”

  Smiling, the girl scooted closer to me. “And what is your name, free lips?” Her breath smelled of alcohol. Apparently, she had more drinks before this one.

  “Mason. Yours?”

  “Jade.” She licked her lips. “What time do you leave?”

  I glanced at my wristwatch. “In less than forty minutes.”

  “Well, I think I’ll be right here until then.”

  She stayed on the same stool for the next forty minutes, and had three more margaritas. I wondered if she would be okay to do anything. I wondered if I would be okay to do anything.

  What the hell? Of course I would. I was a guy. Guys never said no to sex, especially when the girl looked nice and seemed a little frisky. Right?

  Four in the morning came and I left with Jade. During the short taxi ride to her dorm, we never said a word. We didn’t even touch.

  Her dorm was actually a small apartment, much like mine. Jade guided me to her bedroom, putting her finger over her lips when we passed by her roommate’s door.

  She closed her door behind us and stood before me.

  This was awkward.

  A little unsure if I should just get this over with or if I should go slowly, I leaned to her. Without meaning to, she swayed out of reach and giggled.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I had one too many drinks.”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “That’s okay.”

  She took off her heels and approached me. “Where were we?” She put her arms around my shoulders. “Oh yeah, I think it was right here.”

  She pulled my neck down and kissed me.

  I slid my hands down her waist and kissed her back. It was a nice kiss. Her mouth was soft and wasn’t too slobbery, even after her too many drinks. Okay, I could get into this. I pressed her body to mine and deepened the kiss. My hand reached for her hair, but I fingered the air instead. Startled, I pulled back and realized I had been looking for Charlotte’s long hair, not the bob this girl had.

  “What’s wrong?” Jade asked.

  I shook his head, clearing his mind. “Nothing.”

  I bent into her again, trailing kisses down her neck, and the girl moaned. I inhaled, and the smell of cigars and some flowery perfume greeted me. Very different from the sweet cherry scent I was expecting.

  I released her.

  She put her hands on her hips—they were a little larger than Charlotte’s too—and stared at me. “Something is wrong.”

  Christ, I couldn’t even be a free man anymore. “It’s just …”

  Jade nodded. “I get it. There’s another girl, right? You haven’t forgotten her. Believe me, I get it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not mad. I think this was good for you anyway.”

  I frowned. “Why is that?”

  She smiled at me, all too knowing. “Because now you know you really like her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte

  When Liana suggested going to the Gelman Library at George Washington University, since we both had research projects to work on for our summer classes, my first answer was no.

  Then, I thought about it. Washington had many colleges, the chances of Mason studying at GWU were low, and he had told me his classes didn’t start until August. Even if he was to study here, the chances of meeting him at the library were low.

  Besides, deep down, even though I knew I shouldn’t, I was dying to see him again. It was another boring Monday and nine days since I had bumped into him at the National Mall, but who was counting?

  “What is it?” Liana asked after we settled at one of the tables in the library with many books. “You won’t stop looking around.”

  I shifted my gaze to the books before me. “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.” Liana looked around, trying to spot whatever had me on edge. Many guys crowded the desk around us. “Oh, I get it. It’s about that Mason guy.”

  My cheeks warmed and I put a finger over my lips. “Shush. I don’t want to talk about this.” I opened a book and pretended to have interest in the pages I turned.

  We had talked about Mason a lot already, and even though Liana thought it was so romantic to find him here, I thought it was destiny being cruel.

  Liana chuckled. “You’re so in love.”

  “What? I barely know him. In fact, I don’t know him at all.”

  Which made me sad. I had slept with him for a week, had the most amazing connection I could dream of, and yet, I didn’t know anything about him. And it was all my fault. I had been the one to impose the nothing-personal rule on our affair.

  So stupid.

  Over the table, my phone vibrated. I picked it up before others noticed it. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.

  “Who is it?” Liana asked in a hushed tone.

  I pressed the end button. “Donnie.”

  Liana’s eyes widened. “Oh, poor guy. Doesn’t know he has competition.”

  “There’s no competition,” I snapped.

  “Then why are you avoiding Donnie?”

  Good question. “Because … I don’t like him.”

  “Don’t like him or—?”

  A girl from the table beside ours shushed us, and I glared at my friend. We lowered our heads and continued our research in silence. When my phone vibrated once more and I turned the call off without answering, Liana tsked.

  My phone vibrated again. I reached for it, determined to turn it off, but saw it was a message from Liana. I looked at her across the table.

  Smiling, she gestured to my phone.

  Shaking my head, I read the message.

  Liana:
So, about that Donnie boy.

  Me: What about him?

  Liana: Don’t like him or you like someone else?

  Me: Both.

  Liana: Oh, so you confess!

  Me: What good is confessing when I know I can’t do anything?

  Liana: It’s a step, sista!

  Me: Toward a wall where I’ll bump face-first.

  Liana: You should be a comedian.

  Me: What?

  Liana: Anyway, what’s wrong with Donnie boy?

  Me: Can we talk about this later? Much better than typing.

  Liana: All right. But you’re not off the hook yet. I WILL know it all!

  I didn’t know what else Liana wanted to hear from me. She knew everything already. I had told her about our dates, about our semi-kiss, about how I didn’t feel anything.

  I tucked my phone inside my purse and tried focusing on my project.

  The words before my eyes were blurred. Ugh, I really didn’t care about them at the moment. My life had been uncomplicated so far. Not real, but simple. I just had to do what my mother wanted me to. Now, with temptation so close, it was becoming harder to continue doing what I didn’t want to.

  “All right, I’m tired of this.” Liana closed the book with a loud thud almost two hours after our arrival. Two hours I hadn’t really done anything other than look around and hope, and then un-hope, Mason would show up. “Let’s go skate somewhere before heading home.”

  When did I deny going roller-skating? More than a hobby, it helped clear my head and relax my tense muscles—just what I needed.

  We left the library, heading to the parking garage a half-block ahead.

  I fought against the will to turn my head and look everywhere for him. But it wasn’t needed.

  “Hey.” Mason’s voice came from the street.

  ***

  Mason

  Charlotte turned as I stepped on the sidewalk. She looked more like herself in a jean skirt and a simple blouse—and beautiful too.

  “Hey,” she muttered.

  “I saw you from the other side of the street.” I halted before her and ran a hand through my hair.

  “Hi, Mason,” Liana said, stepping beside Charlotte.

  “Hey, Liana. Nice to see you again.” I shook her hand briefly.

 

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