Keeping Up Appearances

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “What are you doing?” I asked him. “Don’t you have class?”

  I felt him nod as his arms wrapped around me, somewhat hampering my ability to repack my bag, but he seemed unbothered by that. “I do, but I wanted to catch you first. You heading home now?”

  I lay my hand over his arm absently. “I was going to… Why does it sound like you’re hoping for otherwise?”

  “Well…” he started, and I could tell he wanted something, “I was thinking maybe we could get together tonight?”

  “You do remember we’re…” I looked around, turned to face him, and lowered my voice, “only fake dating, right?”

  He chuckled and it sent an unnecessary tingle running over my skin. “Yes, I do. I was actually hoping you might help me with the–”

  “Xander!” I hissed as his hand slid down my back to rest on my arse. “Hands in new places, mister! Hands in new places.”

  Something shot through his eyes too fast for me to pick up, but he was smiling again momentarily. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said as he held his hands up in defence.

  “Can and will,” I said, shaking my head and trying not to smile. “Can and will.” I turned back to my locker. “Now, what did you want?”

  “English study.”

  I nodded. “Ah. Okay, sure. Library?”

  “I’ve been in there multiple times this year. I think that’s plenty.”

  “Oh, but you got your first girlfriend out of it. Maybe it’ll bring you luck,” I teased and he sniggered.

  “Yeah, sure. No. I was thinking mine or yours?”

  I paused and turned a suspicious frown on him. “Preference?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. I’ve got my car, so I can drive you home, we can study, then I can head home. Or, I can drive you home after? I’m easy.”

  “The whole school knows that’s true.”

  Xander snorted.

  “Mister Bowen! Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Mr Burnett asked, appearing in the hallway.

  Xander threw him a charming smile. “Sorry, sir. Just needed to ask Holly for her help with the poetry study.”

  Mr Burnett, like every other teacher at that damned school, fell for Xander’s wiles. “Putting an effort into your study, Xander?”

  Xander shrugged. “You know me, sir. Very dedicated.”

  Mr Burnett looked between us. “I was worried about the rumours, kids. But, maybe Holly will be a positive influence on you, hey?”

  “She definitely has a certain effect on me, sir,” he answered then breathed out heavily as I smacked him in the stomach.

  Mr Burnett failed to hide his smile behind a mask of professional disapproval. “Get to class, Xander. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” And, he popped back into his classroom, calling for them to settle down.

  “I’ve got to go. Meet me at my locker after school?”

  “Don’t you have practice tonight?” I asked.

  He gave me a guilty as sin look.

  “Oh, a clever ruse to get me to come to practice?” I gave a sarcastic laugh.

  He started walking away from me backwards and gave an endearing shrug. “I’m nothing if not an optimist, babe.”

  I looked at him in amused incredulity. “Babe, now? Well, you’re definitely something. I’ll see you after school, yes!” I laughed as he did a little bow, spun, and jogged towards the gym.

  So, instead of trudging to the bus stop, I trudged to the Study Room and slid into one of the many free desks, because who the hell stayed at school when they didn’t have to? I’ll tell you, about five or six super studious kids, me included now.

  I sat through the last lesson, trying to make stats stick in my head. When the bell finally rang for the end of school, I didn’t really bother hurrying to Xander’s locker; we both knew where I was so he’d find me if he thought I was taking too long – a week of hanging out with the guy and I knew that much.

  God, was that all? It felt like so much longer.

  And, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

  “Hey. You good, babe?”

  I looked up and saw Xander closing his locker, an actual ounce of concern on his face.

  “Is ‘babe’ going to be a thing now?” I asked.

  He grinned, but he looked uncertain. “Should it not be?”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t know how I feel about ‘babe’.”

  He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his nose in my neck. “How about darling?”

  I giggled as my arms went around his shoulders. “What are we, fifty?”

  “Sweetheart?”

  “That’d be from the fifties.”

  “Honey?” He pulled back to look at me.

  I wrinkled my nose in mock-disgust and he nudged it with his.

  “I like it when you do that,” he said softly.

  My heart did that that thing where it hitched, then hid in case someone might have been watching. I cleared my throat and looked down. “Don’t you need to get to practice, Mr Star Striker?”

  “Like you know what a striker is,” he scoffed teasingly.

  “You’re the forward responsible for getting the goals,” I said as though talking to a particularly young child and I saw those light brown eyes widen in humoured surprise.

  “Well, look at you being all fangirl.”

  I laughed. “It has nothing to do with you, thank you.”

  A smirk played at his lips. “That’s right, your brother was senior captain before me, wasn’t he? I hear he’s captain of an under-21s club team now…?” he teased.

  “He says like he is just so important that he never pays attention to his captain.”

  “Well, I am very good.”

  “Are you?”

  I knew he was good. Even Mark admitted on numerous occasions that Xander was good. Much to Mark’s displeasure, having Xander in the same team as him was only good for soccer.

  “Not as good as your brother,” Xander admitted.

  “Oh my God, was that a compliment for someone else to your own detriment?” I gasped playfully.

  He picked me up and swung me around so I giggled. “You take that to your grave, pookie.”

  I snorted completely in a completely undignified manner and burst into laughter.

  Xander put me down and cocked his head to the side, his face deadpan. “Not pookie, then?”

  I tried so hard to keep a straight face, but I just couldn’t. “Come on, babe. Let’s get you to practice.”

  He grinned cheekily, snatched up his bag and we headed for the secondary oval – because, of course stupid rugby got the main oval.

  e

  “I feel like you’re not concentrating,” I said, rolling onto my stomach and looking at him swinging in my desk chair. “Xander!”

  “Huh?” he asked, looking up and I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Where are you?”

  A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes.

  “Strike that. I don’t want to know,” I sighed and rolled back onto my back. “Okay. Banjo Patterson, remember?”

  He said nothing and I sat up to face him. He was giving me the weirdest look.

  “Did I flash you? My bad, but I am wearing stockings so really it can’t have been all that exciting.”

  He blinked. “What? No…”

  I looked at him for a moment. Something seemed to be going through his mind. And, I could tell mainly because there was that slight hint of exertion on his face that he got whenever he had to think about things more serious than his next hook up or soccer.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  He rolled the chair over to me, keeping his eyes glued to mine.

  “Xander, I so don’t have the energy for whatever crazy thing is going through your tiny, pea-shaped brain right now…” I sighed.

  He stopped when the castors of the chair hit the base of my bed. There was a slight frown on his f
ace as though he was debating something. He leant towards me, our noses bumping and I went cross-eyed to watch it.

  “What?” I huffed.

  Something flashed through his eyes, then his hand was on my cheek and he’d pressed his lips to mine. My brain froze and I jerked backwards, frowning at him in confusion.

  He looked slightly confused himself.

  “What was that?” I asked slowly.

  That confusion deepened.

  “Xander… Why did you kiss me? Fake dating remember?”

  He bit his lip like whatever debate was going on in his head was seriously wigging him out. He ran a hand over his chin and sat back, breathing out heavily. Suddenly, the fact that he’d kissed me was irrelevant. Suddenly, I was more concerned that he hadn’t liked kissing me.

  Because, of course it made sense that I wanted King Douche to like kissing me.

  He folded his arms. “Fake dating, yes. Believably fake dating?”

  “Xander, where is this going?”

  “Look, I have a reputation–”

  “I am not sleeping with you!”

  “I’m… “ He huffed a breath. “We’re not going there right now.”

  “Or, ever!”

  “Not what I meant. Look, no one in the school is going to believe we’re dating – regardless of what we say – if we never kiss or they don’t see some kind of physical attraction going on. As much as I like you, that’s just not me, Holly.” He shrugged like he felt he should apologise, but he wasn’t really sorry.

  My heart skittered and my brain glossed over the fact he’d just said he liked me. “If this is some weak-arse attempt to hook up with me…”

  He stood and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t want to, okay? You’re just…” He turned to me for a moment and waved a hand at me.

  “I’m just what?” I asked, suddenly panicked about exactly whatever I might have been.

  “I’d never noticed, okay?” he asked.

  “Never noticed what?”

  “I mean, I’d sort of noticed. But, I’d never really noticed.”

  “Noticed what?” Seriously, I had to know what the hell was wrong with me.

  “That you’re… That you’re gorgeous.”

  I frowned. “I’m not gorgeous…” I wasn’t, it was just fact. I didn’t think I was hideous or anything, but I knew I wasn’t gorgeous.

  He turned back to me sharply; the confusion was strong in this one. “What?”

  I looked down at myself like I could actually see all of me. “I’m not gorgeous, Xander. I’m okay with that. I mean, I’d hate to be Nancy and have guys all over me all the time. One or two might be nice, but the constant flirting and–”

  “That rank bitch has nothing on you.”

  “That’s my best…was my best friend you’re talking about there,” I warned him.

  He shrugged and ignored that fact. “That’s not to say I’d never thought about you like that. But, that was before–”

  “I am still not hooking up with you.”

  He shrugged again, almost like he was giving up the fight. “Fine. But, if people start questioning our relationship, it won’t be my fault.”

  “Dude,” I laughed, “if you want to kiss me, you can just admit it. But, trying to make something out of it…” I shook my head. “I would have thought resorting to tricks was beneath you.”

  “Firstly,” he started, “it’s not tricks. I’m serious. People are going to get suspicious, especially when we haven’t changed our statuses on Facebook–”

  “Because, it’s not real if it’s not on Facebook,” I muttered to myself sarcastically.

  “And, secondly,” he stepped towards me, “of course I fucking want to kiss you,” he grumbled as he took my hand, pulled me up, cupped my face with both hands and gave me the kind of kiss that was supposed to knock your socks off.

  Except, I’m wearing stockings…

  Still, I felt myself lean into him, my arms found their way around his neck as his went around my back and pulled me closer. My heart felt like it was doing a Jimmy Fallon victory dance and I told it to shut up.

  Because, yes Xander was hot – to deny that would be like trying to maintain the Earth was flat in the twenty-first century – but I didn’t like him. We were just using each other to mutual benefit.

  As he kissed me with more enthusiasm than I thought I was worth or could elicit in anyone, I wondered if this is what lust felt like. And, I mean proper lust. Like the kind teen movies say teenage boys have that lead them to do stupid things and go through life with their smaller head in charge. The kind that throws all rationale and all sense out the window and literally says ‘fuck it’ – as in, go do that person now.

  Then, my brain shut down and I just felt it, got completely caught up in the moment. His hands were warm on my body as he held me tightly, his lips were sure and – I had to admit – kind of demanding. But, I kind of liked it. Okay, I really liked it.

  After… God I didn’t even know how long, he finally pulled away from me, almost reluctantly, and stared at me like he’d never seen me before. We both breathed heavily and while I might not have seen it in real life often, I recognised eyes full of heated lust when I saw them. Because, yes, I watched as many rom-coms as I did horror movies.

  “Fuck me, nice girls don’t kiss like that,” he said, leaning his forehead to mine.

  “Cliché much?” I chuckled.

  He smiled. “Clichés are clichés because they’re clichéd,” he said philosophically.

  I smirked. “How many nice girls have you kissed, anyway?”

  He huffed a breathless laugh and smiled. “Fair point.”

  We just stared at each other for a moment, until I forcibly reminded myself that I didn’t like this guy. I cleared my throat, gave him my best intimidating awkward smile, and took a step back as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

  Thank God no one else is home.

  “Well… That was…uh, that was certainly a kiss.” I nodded in agreement with myself.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “So, if you felt the need to kiss me in front of people, then that could be a thing that could happen. I guess.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “But, you know, only as necessary.” Or, all the damned time! an annoying voice in my head piped up.

  “Of course, just enough to keep up appearances.”

  “Yeah. But, I mean, I think we’ll be able to sell the attraction thing?”

  Xander huffed another laugh. “Yeah, we’re not going to have any trouble in that department.”

  “Good, okay. So, that’s good then.”

  Oh my God, what was wrong with me? All I could think about was kissing him again. My skin tingled just thinking about it and I had to stop myself from taking another step towards him. This was ridiculous. I did not like him. I did not want him. It was just convenience. And yes, if he kissed me at school, then…

  Then, I’d probably launch him into the lockers and give him a kiss to make his knees go weak.

  “Good God,” I muttered and turned around.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Uh, nothing. Um, so… Did that have anything to do with the lack of concentration? Or, is there anything else I can help with?”

  “Well, you already said you weren’t sleeping with me…”

  I whirled around in shock, but his tone of regret was completely overruled by the teasing grin on his face and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

  “You said that about my charm too, and look where that got you.”

  I pointed a finger at him. “Kissing you for the sake of a charade does not mean I find you remotely charming.”

  He grinned widely, his eyebrows wiggling. “I still have eight days to make you realise you already think I’m charming.”

  I breathed out heavily.
“Get a B on the poetry quiz and I’ll reconsider where I stand on the charm factor.”

  I pointed to my desk chair and he dropped into it. I pushed him backwards with my foot and he laughed.

  “Can’t bear to be too close to me?” he teased.

  “You just stay over there and concentrate,” I said slightly breathlessly, and it was all the admission he was going to get.

  Chapter Eleven

  I was walking down the hallway toward the Study Room on Friday morning – because I’d decided to go to school rather than risk talking to Mark – when I saw Xander walking towards me. By the wicked smirk on his face, he had nothing pure on his mind.

  Mind you, after his kiss the night before, my mind was thinking that the gutter looked like a mighty fine place to have a stroll for a while; none of this high road business for me, apparently, I was all for the low road.

  Xander stopped me in the middle of the hallway and took my face in his hands, his eyes lighting up.

  “If I kiss you, does that count as necessary or unnecessary?” he asked and my heart fluttered a little excited flamenco.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I answered, trying not to smile at him.

  “Good morning.” He gave me one of the most sincere grins I’d ever seen. “I mean, I just wondered if keeping up appearances now was a good idea, or…?”

  My smile broke through unbidden. “You need to get to class.”

  “Maybe a kiss from my girlfriend will give me luck?”

  Oh, I wanted to but I was not going to fall for him.

  “What? Have you got the PE Olympics today or something?” I asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Is Greg likely to beat you?”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to put that in the unnecessary basket.”

  “And, if I’d said yes?”

  “Still unnecessary.”

  He leant forward conspiratorially and it only made me want to kiss him more. “Well, how do I know which is which?”