Keeping Up Appearances

by Elizabeth Stevens

  A bit later, I got another reply from the boys.

  Xander Bowen:

  How do we know you just took that?

  Xander Bowen:

  Also, Greg says you look adorable.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You doubt me?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Oh, Greg does? Not you?

  Xander Bowen:

  Me? Course not. I definitely in no way think you look wonderful in that picture.

  I thought it best to skip right over that comment, even if I had in some way elicited it.

  Xander Bowen:

  You might have a bunch of unflattering photos stored up.

  If I didn’t know better, I would have asked if Xander had ever met a teenage girl… Actually, any human being really.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Why would I possibly store unflattering pictures?!

  Xander Bowen:

  For charming young men.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You are neither charming. Nor am I trying to charm you.

  Xander Bowen:

  I’m terribly charming and you’ve already charmed me ;)

  Xander Bowen:

  You have yet to prove that was you just then.

  Holy Aberdeen:

  No one’s charming anyone.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Doesn’t the pic say in the info?

  Xander Bowen:

  No, it just says when you sent it.

  We require proof!

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Lol, and how am I supposed to prove it?

  There was no response for a while and I went back to my movie. Then, a video call request came through from Xander. I looked at my phone suspiciously like I was suddenly in some horror movie. I assumed butt-dial, but it kept ringing. So, I finally answered to hear music playing in the background.

  “Hello…?”

  A “HI!” and a “HOLLY!” got mingled as Xander and Greg shouted at me enthusiastically.

  I laughed. “Hi.”

  “Give us a proper look, then,” Xander said.

  I moved the phone over my body and back up to my face, making a face similar to the one in the picture I’d sent. “See, just taken.”

  “A likely story!” Greg mused as the two boys’ faces jostled for space on my screen.

  “We’ll accept it for now. What are you up to?” Xander asked.

  “Watching movies.”

  “What movies?”

  I turned my phone briefly so the camera was facing the paused screen on the TV. “The Woman in Black.”

  “Is this another horror, Miss Aberdeen?” Xander chuckled and I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “I was going to watch Silence of the Lambs, but I thought I’d save it.”

  Xander grinned warmly and Greg looked at him as though trying to work out what that meant. Greg got this really weird combination of excited and knowing expression on his face. Until I heard someone call Greg’s name in the background and he looked away. He patted Xander, waved at me absent-mindedly, and disappeared.

  “Shouldn’t you be mingling or something?” I asked Xander, popping a chip in my mouth and settling in more comfortably on the couch.

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I could be watching my movie.”

  “Would you prefer that?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He gave me that grin again, “Maybe,” and nodded as his eyes slid to something behind his phone. “Yeah. All right then, Holly.”

  “Hey! I can call you back now,” I commented.

  His eyes moved back to me. “That you can.”

  I opened my mouth to speak again, but Greg was suddenly back and the image on my screen went nuts for a moment.

  “Dude, duty calls,” Greg said. “Liv’s not doing so well.”

  Xander looked behind him and nodded. “Yep. Be right there.”

  “Sweet.” Greg pressed two fingers to his lips, then to Xander’s phone camera. “Catchya later, Holl.” And, he was gone again.

  “Duty?” I asked Xander as he looked back to me.

  Was that slight embarrassment on King Douche’s face?

  “Uh, it’s nothing. I’ve just got to check on Liv.”

  “Don’t tell me the King of the Bows actually looks after his subjects.”

  “Of course not. I’m heartless, shallow, arrogant King Douche, remember? You coming to the game tomorrow?”

  I shrugged again, my heart giving this weird niggling feeling I was refusing to acknowledge. “Don’t know yet.”

  He gave me a sweet smile. “Well, I will either see you tomorrow or on Monday. Enjoy your movies.”

  “Night, Xander.”

  He gave me a wink and disconnected the call.

  I turned off my screen and dropped my phone on the couch next to me.

  “Surely there isn’t more to King Douche?” I muttered to myself as I picked up the remote and pressed play. “No. Don’t be stupid, Holly. Like he said. Heartless, shallow, arrogant King Douche.”

  If that was true, why was my heart trying to smack me upside the head to get me to pay attention to it?

  I just wished I’d spent more time pondering the enigma that might have been the King of the Bows instead of checking my phone half an hour later…

  e

  I ended up going to Mark and Xander’s game – rugged up in whatever warm jumper I’d first found and not caring what I looked like – because I was pissed off and I refused to acknowledge my stupid little heart thought seeing Xander might make me feel better.

  Nancy had posted up a multitude of pictures of her and Jason after that first fateful viewing the night before. They were tagged with things like #firstdate, #fiveyearsinthemaking, #BFFtoBF, #truelove and a whole bunch of other nauseating things. There was kissing and cute adorable couple spam that I couldn’t help but stare at most of the night to the point that it was seared into my brain cells by the time I tried to go sleep.

  So, sleep had been elusive for the nth night in a row and I’d finally slipped into unconsciousness while one of the Resident Evils – I lost track of how far through them I got – played at something like four in the morning.

  I’d woken up to a friend request from Greg, a headache, and an inexplicable urge to go to Mark and Xander’s game.

  I stood a little apart from the other friends and family members while I watched the first half of the game, huddled into myself and aggravating my headache by clenching my jaw. I made the stupid mistake of checking Facebook sometime during the game and saw Nancy had posted up a ridiculous motivational quote about knowing who your real friends are. She’d tagged Jason and captioned it, ‘Can’t believe all the love we’ve been getting N’ like some couple ten years’ older. And, I wasn’t stupid enough to think it wasn’t directed squarely at me and the lack of love I’d given either of them.

  So, my mood soured further.

  Honestly, what had she expected me to do?

  I knew what I should have done. I should have bucked up and congratulated them. I should have put my feelings aside and been happy for the happiness of my two best friends. That would have been the decent, proper, nice thing to do. Why then had I been so caught up in the feeling of betrayal? I mean, Jason hadn’t known how I felt about him– Well I hoped he hadn’t and that was different, but I was sticking to that theory for now. So, he couldn’t have actually betrayed me.

  Nancy, though…

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mark had said Friday morning.

  Had she only been coaching me the week before so I made a fool of myself? Had she been trying to get Jason away from me all this time? I should have given her the benefit of the doubt. Five years of best-friendship meant I should have given her the benefit of the doubt. But, there was this little niggling feeling in the back of my head that insisted there was some merit in Mark’s words. Which made my heart hurt even more, and the po
or little thing was already feeling battered and bruised enough.

  And, that made me angrier.

  I wanted payback.

  It was immature and stupid and probably wrong of me. But, I didn’t care anymore.

  I wanted payback.

  And, Xander’s offer was looking mighty enticing…

  “So, I’m stuck in stalker-land but you’ll accept Greg’s friend request the morning he sends it?” Xander sounded incredulous as he stepped up next to me like fate was hanging a huge lantern up for me and waving it in my face.

  I shrugged as I watched Mark and the rest of the club keeping warm at half time while the coach tried to pep them. I really didn’t feel like banter that morning, especially with my brain whirring and my heart nudging me insistently to take Xander up on his offer. I swear to God, if it could walk out of my body and hand him a flower it would do just that and be blushing like mad.

  “What? No quip about stalker-land versus the friendzone?”

  I shrugged again.

  “I know, I know,” he sighed ruefully as though I’d been helpful and answered. “That would require us being friends and we completely hate–”

  “I’ll fake date you,” I blurted out.

  Apparently, my heart had taken the wheel again and left my brain hogtied in the backseat while we all hurtled along at breakneck speeds into ever increasingly dangerous territory.

  “What?” Xander asked.

  I turned to see him looking at me with humour in his eyes.

  “I’ll fake date you,” I repeated carefully, looking into his eyes so my meaning couldn’t possibly be misinterpreted.

  He looked me over carefully. Then, his name was yelled from someone in the team – could have been my brother, who knew. Xander frowned, but as though something concerned him. Finally, he nodded slowly.

  “Okay. We’ll talk after?”

  I nodded. “Sure. Good luck.”

  He flashed me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and jogged off.

  I stood on the sidelines for the rest of the game, trying to will my heart to stop beating so hard – you’re the one who agreed! I reminded it – and forcing myself to breathe.

  Unsurprisingly with Xander and Mark on the same team, they won.

  Mark came over when they were done and looked at me suspiciously. “Do I need to ask why King Douche was talking to you at halftime?”

  Guilt hit me and I refused to look at him. “Nope.” I popped the ‘p’, my tell-tale bluff tell.

  “Holly…” He gave me his best ‘I’m the big brother, so tell me the truth’ voice.

  I sighed. “Madame Renoir asked me to help him with French, okay? We were just talking about school.”

  Oh, my stomach rebelled against lying to my brother and my heart crossed its arms and glared at me in disgust. But, seriously, I was not telling Mark I’d just agreed to fake date the King of the Bows. That was not a conversation we were going to have. Ever. Like, not even death bed confession.

  “Uh huh, and do you need to speak to him some more? Or, can we go?”

  I jumped at the suspicion in his tone, but shook my head. “No. No. We can go.”

  Mark looked me over and I couldn’t tell if he’d believed me and just wasn’t pleased I was spending time with Xander, or if he was trying to work out what I might be hiding. “Okay. Let’s go then.”

  I followed Mark to the car, pulling out my phone as I went.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later?

  He wasn’t slow in responding and I looked up to find him as Mark backed out of his car park. He was standing with a couple of the other guys, chatting amicably and giving them a fist bump. As I watched, he ran his hand through his hair and I had one of those moments where I could appreciate why girls fawned over him.

  Xander Bowen:

  If you’re having cold feet…?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  No. I’m not. I just didn’t think Mark needed to be involved.

  And, I wasn’t. It had been a rash decision to agree to his offer. But like all my rash decisions of the last week, I was going to see it through. Making Nancy and Jason think I was dating Xander would get back at the both of them.

  Hos before bros?

  That didn’t seem to mean much to Nancy anymore, so I’d give her a piece of her own medicine. And, hopefully make Jason jealous at the same time.

  Xander Bowen:

  Are you hiding your boyfriend from your brother, Holly?

  I could just picture the teasing condescension on his face and it should not have made me smile. It should have annoyed me like it had just last week. My heart should not have felt a slight pang of disappointment that I wasn’t seeing it in real life.

  Still, I couldn’t go around encouraging him.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  FAKE boyfriend.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  And, you’re proposal technique could use a little work.

  Xander Bowen:

  Naw, you wanna marry me? N

  Holly Aberdeen:

  God, no!

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I just meant that if you were ever going to actually ask a girl out, you probably want to make her think you’re actually into it.

  Xander Bowen:

  Who says I’m not into you?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Every sane person in the history of the world.

  Xander Bowen:

  That is just not true.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  We’ve all seen the girls you hook up with, King Douche, and they are not me.

  Xander Bowen:

  Believe what you want, Holly.

  Xander Bowen:

  I’ll see you tomorrow then, *girlfriend* ;)

  Holly Aberdeen

  *fake girlfriend.

  Xander Bowen:

  ;) :*

  Chapter Eight

  “Good morning, Holly,” Xander’s voice boomed like a boxing announcer as he walked towards me.

  “Good morning, Xander,” I replied more evenly as I stuffed my last book in my bag and closed my locker.

  I turned to face him and he leant towards me, making me press my back against the lockers.

  “Did you hear the news?” he whispered and his tone made me smile despite myself.

  “No. What news?” I asked.

  “King Douche and JT’s ex-minion are dating,” he said scandalously, complete with eyebrow waggle and a small laughed escaped me.

  “Fake dating,” I reminded him.

  He stepped towards me, his hand going to my waist. “Ah, but people don’t know that.”

  “People don’t even think we’re dating.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Shouldn’t you be post-gym right now?”

  “I had better things to do this morning.”

  “Like what?”

  His hand slid around my hip and over my arse as he gave me one of Xander Bowen’s patented smirks. My eyebrow rose even as my heart stuttered.

  “That is a no from me,” I told him.

  His smirk made my heart flutter and I told it off. “Your vote’s been noted, Simon.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, even as I looked around the corridor warily. “Get your hand off my arse, Xander.”

  People were looking. People were looking at Xander Bowen backing Holly Aberdeen up against her locker with his hand on her arse while she smiled. Even as I felt a twinge of panic, I couldn’t stop smiling at the look of mischief in his eyes.

  At least, he slid his hand off my arse and back onto my hip.

  “King Douche, people are staring,” I hissed.

  “How did you think this was going to go, Holly?” he asked, humour written all over his face. “People are going to have to know – and believe – we’re dating if you expect to make the git jealous.”

  I stared at him, then registered he was giving me a
highly expectant look.

  “What?”

  “You said you’d make it up to me…”

  I tried very hard not to smile. “He’s not–”

  “Yes, he is,” Xander said, then hung his head back and sighed dramatically. “That was much better. Thank you.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Okay. Moving on. As in to French, or we’ll be late.”

  “You are such a party pooper.” He sighed, stepping away from me. “But you can make it up to me.”

  “If you tell me it’s by letting you touch my arse again, you’ll get more than a no.”

  “Noted. No, you can make it up to me by holding my hand.”

  “Holding your hand?” I asked and he nodded. “Fine.”

  I offered him my hand and he took it before we walked in the direction of our French classroom.

  “Holly,” he whispered harshly as he leant towards me.

  “What, Xander?” I replied in a similar harsh whisper.

  “People are staring,” he said with totally false concern.

  I rolled my eyes. “I see that.”

  “Oh, git sighting!”

  I looked further up the corridor and saw Jason was coming from the opposite direction. He was smiling as he was surrounded by people who were slowly peeling away to their classrooms as though loathe to leave his side. My hand slid out of Xander’s automatically. Xander put his arm around my shoulder and leant his lips to my ear.

  “It doesn’t work if you chicken out.”

  “I am not chickening out.”

  “If you wanted to, it’s okay. Just say the word and we’re done. But, well…” He paused. “If not, I’m going to feel obliged to give him a bloody good show.”

  He was giving me an out. I could walk away from this with very little repercussions. Jason hadn’t seen us yet and who cared what rumours ran around the school after his display at my locker…

  “Okay. Get acting,” I said before I really thought I’d come to any conclusion.

  He broke into a disarmingly sincere smile. “Come on, then. Let me introduce the school to my new girlfriend,” he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

  I sighed, but I was resolved now. “Fake girlfriend.”

  He looked at me in a fondly exasperated manner. “It won’t work if you tell people.”

  I rolled my eyes and he kissed my temple before dropping his nose to my ear.