“Yeeees!” Krista turns toward her. “She can knock on his door in her tank and tiny sleep shorts, the ones we bought her for her birthday, and be like I lost my homework, help me.”
“Help me, I’m poor,” they say in unison, laughing.
Carley and I look to each other, chuckling just the same.
“Come on, Demi! You have to use this to your advantage,” Macy whines.
“Yeah, take one for the team here,” Krista adds.
“You have a boyfriend.”
“Exactly!” Her eyes widen mockingly. “Did you not catch the take one for the team?”
“Does Trent know you have the hots for his bestie?” Macy teases her.
Krista only flips her off with a grin.
“You guys are crazy, no way. Can you imagine my mom’s reaction?” I laugh. “Me and the guy who got kicked out of her precious country club for fucking the owner’s daughter in the fountain on the golf course?”
“Don’t forget during her daddy’s tournament.” Macy laughs loudly.
“And that.”
“First of all, screw your mom for being so critical, even though I’m pretty sure she’d take him as a win. He’s literally all the things on her Demi must marry checklist.” Krista chuckles.
She has a point there.
“And two, Josie was his girlfriend, so not a big deal other than the whole being caught part, and three, a-holes, don’t forget Nico is Trent’s best friend, Trent is your friend. You know him, would he really love and support someone like a brother who was a total douchebag?”
“Total?” I tease, and she throws a chip at me. I smile, shrugging. “I’m not saying he’s anything other than the wrong chem partner for me. How he is as a human nowadays, I don’t know. He avoids being around me, remember?”
“He doesn’t avoid you.” Krista rolls her eyes.
“No,” Macy says sarcastically. “It just so happens since we started high school he has something come up every single time Demi comes near, or a shit remark when he has no escape.”
I lift my hands as if to say exactly. “Literally, today was the most we’ve talked since eighth grade, and it was maybe five worthless sentences he used to try and get under my skin.”
The bell rings in the next second, so we pack up our crap. The girls toss out the garbage while I roll up our blanket and stuff it in the bag.
Ever since freshman year, we’ve had the same routine for lunch. Whoever is assigned the locker closest to the quad gives theirs up and shares with someone else. We use the other to store snacks and things for lunch as well as the blanket we sit on every day.
It started as a way to have more time since we were spending half our lunch in lines, but we continued because we like having space to quietly talk amongst ourselves. Where we sit is close enough we can call others over if we want but still have our own friend time.
“Meeting at your house at six to swim?”
“Six-fifteen,” I tell her. “I have dance today, but I think I forgot my phone at home, so just come over.”
“Cool. Later.” Macy and Krista walk off while me and Carley carry everything to the locker to put it away.
“I don’t think you should push switching partners,” Carley says as she hangs the snack bag on the little hook, stuffing the unused water bottles into the bottom corner.
“Why not?” I hand her the blanket bag so she can toss it on top.
She shrugs, slams the locker closed and spins the lock. “You said yourself, you’ve been Alex’s partner the last few years, maybe it’s time for a new one.”
“But Nico? We’re not exactly friends.”
“You’re not exactly enemies either.” She steps backward, winking at me before she disappears.
I lean against the locker a moment, considering her words.
I guess she’s right, Nico and I aren’t friends, but I can’t say we’re enemies either. We’re simply two people who used to know each other and don’t anymore.
Two people that are about to be forced to spend fifty-three minutes a day together for the rest of the year, not counting out of class time we’ll likely need.
I’m about to push off the locker when the door at the end of the hall opens, and Nico along with his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Josie, walk through, arguing. Or she’s arguing while he’s ignoring, continuing down the hall, but then his eyes lift, officially catching mine fixated on them and he stops in his tracks.
My gaze slides toward Josie.
She frowns up at him, waving her arms around a moment in an overly dramatic fashion before she realizes he’s not paying attention, and her head jolts to where his focus lies.
Solely on me.
An instant and deep scowl takes over, and she flips me off, shoves him lightly – or attempts to, but he doesn’t budge – and then storms out the way they came.
The second the door slams with her exit, Nico starts forward again, each step taken seeming smaller and slower than the last.
I stand up straight when only an arm’s length of space is left between us, but Nico keeps going, glancing away as he passes without a word, as if he wasn’t staring directly at me with each stride taken.
Only when he’s out of sight, do I realize I was holding my breath the entire time.
I roll my eyes at myself.
It’s about to be a long ass year.
Krista, as always, is the last of us four to climb out of the pool. She dries off quickly and ties a towel around her before joining us on the picnic table.
“Okay,” she starts. “You’re freshly single and in need of some hardcore lovin’. What movie do you jump into to get it?”
“Fast and the Furious,” Macy shouts, way too eager, making the rest of us laugh.
“Carley?” Krista asks her as she piles her plate full.
“Hmm, how about The Boy Next Door.” She wiggles in her spot.
“A murderous lunatic is your type?” I tease.
“He brought J.Lo to her knees, literally, okay,” she jokes. “That’s my man.”
“You guys are lame, Christian Grey me, please!” Krista shouts.
“As if we’re surprised.” Carley laughs.
“Demi?” Macy asks, a chicken wing shoved halfway in her mouth.
“Takers, all day.” I nod.
The three of them pause before they all change their mind and go with my answer, too.
“Talk about a dream team.”
“Right?” I agree. “I’d go for Hayden Christianson to TI in a hot second.”
The four of us laugh, and then Carley elbows me in the ribs.
I look up and through the screen door to find my mom primping in the mirror.
It’s crazy how much I look like her, only the less perfected version, as I’m sure she’d call me.
Long, dirty blonde but not quite brown hair, almond-shaped eyes the same shade of green, a deep, ripe lime-like color. She’s always said she blessed me with the heart shape of my lips, though I’m pretty sure hers were created along the way with the help of a needle or two. We’re both pushing five-nine, but she stays in four-inch heels to give herself more height.
The difference between us though is she walks around like a California Barbie where I’m more Barbie’s best friend.
“You talk to her about my birthday yet?” Krista whispers.
“No.” I sigh, wiping the sauce off my fingers before pushing to stand, my towel falling from my middle as I do. “Might as well do it now.”
The girls follow behind.
The second we step through the door, my mom openly scrutinizes us in our bathing suits, likely picking us apart in her mind.
“Girls.”
“Hey, Ms. Davenport.”
“Mom, can I go to Krista’s party next weekend?” I ask her.
My mom turns to me. “You want to talk about this now?”
“Since you’re here, yeah.”
Her features sharpen, but she plays it off, smiling at herself in the mirror bef
ore meeting my gaze in the reflection. “So, this is the party that is two nights in a hotel along the beach with its own private bar and DJ? A hotel that has been blocked off for nothing but high school seniors for a spoiled little girl’s eighteenth birthday?” She looks over at Krista. “No offense, sweetheart.”
“Hey, it’s true.” Krista laughs.
I hold in my eye roll. “The hotel that’s safe and owned by Krista’s dad, yes. That’s the one.”
“Honey, there will be no parents there, and I’ll be out of town, so I can’t come to your rescue if something happens.” She makes sure to shake her head in faux concern.
‘Course you won’t be home, who’s shocked?
Not me.
This entire conversation is a pointless one anyway, and all formality.
I ask for something, she plays out the whole scene, makes it seem dangerous, makes herself sound concerned in case my dad asks me about it later, but it’s nothing more than a mother-daughter role we play.
A role we both know and understand and don’t acknowledge.
“Actually, Ms. D, my parents will be around, they’re staying at our property around the corner, but they’re coming to dinner one night and they’ll be checking in at the hotel here and there. It’ll be super chill. Dinner, some dancing, rides on the boardwalk.”
I look from Krista to my mom.
“I swear I’ll be safe,” I add on. “You already know how Krista’s dad is, there will be staff security surrounding the hotel, and she just said he’ll be around if needed.”
My mom nods, in too much of a hurry to get out of here to go full-on pretend I have reservations mode. “I suppose that would be okay, so long as you answer when I call and keep in contact all weekend.”
She won’t call. “I will.”
“And please, Demi, safety in the bedroom as well.”
Macy sits forward. “So... if you don’t care if she has wild sex all weekend, what’s the point of contemplating her going at all?”
I fight a smile.
My mom, of course, misses the contempt in Macy’s question – or chooses to ignore it, she’s good at that – and laughs, grabbing her purse off the countertop. “A reminder of safe sex is always worth mentioning. Nobody wants to get pregnant and ruin their lives in high school.”
Ouch?
“I have to go.” My mom smiles at me. “I’m meeting the Welch sisters for dinner, don’t wait up.”
I turn to my friends who give a rueful smile.
My mom isn’t necessarily a bad mom, but she’s basically over mothering. Her and my dad had me their junior year of high school, but still wanted the large, fancy future, so she worked her ass off at low paying jobs while raising a baby, supported us while he went to college – a fact she never failed to throw in his face.
Six years later and four months after he started his law firm, he left her for his business partner.
My mom was bitter at first, even though she drove him away by never being happy with what he gave her, but she quickly decided she enjoyed blowing his alimony and child support checks better than she liked being his wife anyway.
Now that I’m old enough to basically care for myself, can drive, and no longer need her help with schoolwork, she’s living the years she lost – her words.
I know she loves me, and I love her, my dad too, really, but they’re both absent parents more than anything. My dad at least makes an effort where my mom is annoyed when she has to do motherly things, but I mean, I can’t complain.
It’s what most teenagers would kill for, freedom to do as we wish.
“Oh, and Demi.” My mom pulls the door open, her focus falling to my thighs as she says, “I’d say that’s enough carbs for you today.”
Wow.
I’m a fucking dancer, have been in hip-hop classes since I was five, what the hell does she expect? She should have put me in ballet if she wanted me to be a tighter stick, we work an entirely different set of muscles.
She goes to walk out but freezes mid-step, staring straight ahead.
What is she doing?
After a few seconds, a strong, heavy voice floats around the frame and into the house. “Ms. Davenport...”
Nico.
Nico!
My eyes widen, and I whip around to my friends, all who gape at me, Macy holding her hand over Krista’s mouth to block her laugh.
Macy whispers with a grin, “Aw shit, he’s playing the hot help me with my homework card I told you about.”
“Shut up!” I hiss back. “You know how she is!”
“She’s about to plan your wedding!” Macy wiggles her eyebrows.
“Or your departure to boarding school,” Krista adds.
Macy laughs. “Let’s bet!”
I shove her, making her fall over the edge of the couch.
“Go over there!” Carley whispers back hastily.
“No!” I gape at her, my eyes pointedly falling to my bikini.
“Here.” Macy tosses me her towel. “Go.”
I yank it from her hand with a frown, glancing toward the entryway again.
My mom, queen of the fakes and superficial as all hell, pulls out her old pageant smile.
I groan, quickly wrap the towel under my armpits and move closer.
I’m half a foot from the door when the towel is yanked away and I’m shoved forward.
I stumble toward my mom but catch my footing quickly.
My mom’s hand flies to her chest a moment before she composes herself, eyes wide and bright and settled on Nico, saying nothing at all.
I frown at her.
You’re really going to stand there silent and stare at him?
I move my scowl to Nico who doesn’t acknowledge my mother’s ridiculousness, but the corner of his eyes are stiff as hell.
“Hey.” He nods.
“What are you doing here?”
My mom gasps, a legit, mortified gasp for once, officially snapping out of her stupor. “Demi!” she scolds, apology in her tone – how dare her daughter not use her manners.
Cue eye roll.
“What?” I say innocently, annoyed that he showed up on the rare occasion that my mom is actually home. “He can’t be here, you’re leaving.”
“Oh.” My mom dismisses, flicking her wrist. “Don’t be silly. Your friends are always welcome, you know this. Besides, I’m sure I have nothing to worry about.”
Her digs are always coated in sugar, served with a bitchy smile, and left up to interpretation – is she saying he’s out of my league or I’m far from his?
The way her eyes continue to study him suggests she’s undecided, though I’m sure Nico isn’t coming to the same conclusion.
It’s funny, for someone who pushes me to be the best at everything and make the highest grade, you’d think it was because she wanted a big bright future for me so I’d never be in the position she was when my dad left her, when really it’s all about the bragging rights that come with the scholarly daughter she’s after.
I swear she’d marry me to the highest bidder with the prettiest face if she could.
“Nico, wow. It’s been some time.” She tilts her head slightly, taking him in more and I want to shake her. “You’re... all grown up.”
Oh my fucking god!
My eyes slice to hers.
I can’t even look at him.
“It has,” he agrees, his stare burning into my cheek.
“Well, it’s... very good to see you, and here, but if I don’t run, I’ll be late,” she announces, her eyes raking over Nico once more, before moving to me.
She gives me a bright smile, reaching out to give my arm a small squeeze that can only be taken as a good job.
I bite into my cheek as she squares her shoulders and moves down the driveway to her car, one foot in front of the other like she’s on a runway.
I force my expression to remain natural when really her boldness was so embarrassing, I’d rather slam the door in Nico’s face then stand here and m
ake eye contact with him after that.
I take a small step back, glancing to the side to find the girls tiptoeing toward the slider, all three being assholes, mock sucking dick or flicking their tongues between their fingers as they disappear from sight altogether.
Jerks.
“Not gonna invite me in?”
Nico’s jeering tone has my eyes flying back to him.
His though, they aren’t on mine.
They’re on my bare legs, and instantly my mom’s comment – which I’m pretty sure he heard – takes over my thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
It’s not like I can’t hang in a bikini with the best of them. I’m tall with a narrow waist, wide hips, and legs for days. It just so happens I have more muscles in my thighs and calves than most.
Still, there’s something nerve-wracking about standing in nothing but a string bikini in front of a guy who has probably seen more naked chicks than Ironman pre-Pepper.
Whatever, I’ve danced in front of hundreds in outfits just as revealing.
Finally, his eyes come to mine and he tips his chin the slightest bit.
“Guys aren’t allowed in when my mom’s gone.”
“Not the vibe I got.”
He’s obviously trying to piss me off, but I don’t say anything.
Nico gauges me a minute before taking a step back. “Right, well, I’d hate to get the duchess in trouble, so let’s make this quick, yeah? I—”
“Can you just go?” I cut him off, irritated not only at my mom but at him now, too, for mocking me. “We can talk about whatever it is you need in class tomorrow.”
He looks off in the distance, licking his lips before his eyes slowly move back to mine.
“Does that work?”
He gives a slow nod but doesn’t move.
After a few seconds of staring, a deep chuckle leaves him. “You have a good night, huh, D?”
He takes a few backward steps before shaking his head and finally walking away.
I close the door, letting out a deep breath. “Well, that sucked,” I huff, then remember my asshole friends are outside and head their way.
I don’t even get to speak before Krista shouts a loud, “Boo! We were hoping we were about to hear sounds coming from upstairs!”
“You guys are assholes.” I pretend I’m walking toward the lounger, but quickly stop and shove Macy, who only had her legs hanging over the edge, into the pool.
Fake It 'Til You Break It Page 2