Fake It 'Til You Break It

by Meagan Brandy

  “Why do you think he paired us together?” I blurt out.

  His frown is quick.

  “Look at these other partners, I’d bet they’ve never spoken to each other. Me and you, though?”

  Nico simply watches me, his expression as ungiving as ever, so I glance away.

  Way to put yourself on the playboy’s level, Demi.

  “Look at me.” His voice is an easy command.

  I do, and disapproval stares back. “Why you comparing yourself?”

  “I wasn’t,” I deny too quickly.

  His head drops back. “You’re lying.”

  I’m clearly caught, so I give an extremely overdramatic sigh as my affirmation and shake my head.

  I swear he swallows a small laugh, though when I quickly search for proof he’s human after all, it’s gone.

  He pauses a moment, then asks, “What do you know about me?”

  “You... play football, have for years.”

  He nods. “You dance, hip-hop mostly.”

  Common knowledge.

  I nod, willing myself not to go where I expected him to start.

  It doesn’t work and the words escape. “You have a thing for sex in water.”

  He doesn’t even blink. “You’ve never had sex.”

  My head tugs back at his sudden and so surely stated claim.

  I eye him as he does me, and a slow frown takes over.

  I’m not stupid, I know what he’s doing and it won’t work.

  He can mock or make fun of me all he wants.

  I shake my head. “I’m not gonna confirm or deny what you’ve heard, so don’t bother with this little tactic.”

  His pointed expression deepens, and the longer he’s silent, the more I fidget.

  Very slowly, his eyes narrow. “Confirm... what, exactly?” He leans closer. “And heard what from who?”

  I scoff, looking away.

  I get it, I opened myself up for this by bringing up his sex life, that’s my mistake, but he has to know I’m not a virgin, and I’m sure as hell not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me say it out loud.

  Nico’s gaze is laser focused for a long moment before he finally glances off.

  He doesn’t say another word the rest of class, nor does he the remainder of the week.

  When week two rolls around and it’s more of the same wasted time, I’m over it and attempt to strike casual conversation, but Nico quickly affirms his attitude.

  He falls asleep propped against the tennis court gates, and since I have no material to study, I sit silently, replaying my routine over and over again in my head until we are told we can go collect our things.

  Nico is suddenly wide awake and gone as soon as he’s excused, but I hang back, cautiously approaching our teacher once the majority of students are gone.

  “Ms. Davenport, how can I help you?” The weariness in his tone isn’t missed. I can imagine he’s getting complaints left and right with the intense sets of pairings he set up.

  I take another step toward him, so the stragglers still sliding in to get their phones can’t overhear. “I know you asked me not to complain, but I’ve tried to talk to Nico and he’s about as interesting as a cardboard box. He doesn’t want to converse, which is fine on a normal day, but I need to know this isn’t going to affect my grade because I don’t know what to do at this point.”

  “Is he helpful during labs?” he asks.

  “He’s getting his work done, but there’s no partnering happening at all.”

  He drops into his chair. “Have you tried getting on his level?”

  I scoff. “What level would that be?”

  When Mr. Brando frowns, I look away.

  “I tell you what,” he begins, so I give him my attention. “Since you’re the first person to approach not asking me to reconsider, I’ll help you out next class,” he says vaguely. “The rest will be up to you. Earn the grade, Ms. Davenport, and you might even earn a new friendship, too.”

  I nod even though I got absolutely nowhere and drag myself to my next class.

  Thank god it’s hump day, because I’m over this shit.

  I’m surprised to find my mom’s car in the driveway when I get home, and even more so when she’s sitting at the little bar top, waiting for me.

  Her eyes fall to my sports bra. “You had dance today?”

  “Yeah, I was at the studio.”

  She nods as she sets down her coffee cup and leans back in her seat. “So, Nico Sykes.”

  Ah. Right.

  Guess this is the first chance she’s had to grill me.

  “He’s my new partner for lab.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mom, stop.” I wash my hands quickly, drying them on a paper towel. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “I didn’t even say anything.” She gives an innocent shrug, running her finger over the rim of her cup.

  I hold in my eye roll and wait, but it doesn’t take her long.

  “I asked around, did you know it was him who was caught in a scandalized position with Mr. Clemmons’ daughter?”

  I pull open the fridge.

  Yes. One blue Gatorade left.

  I unscrew the top and take a quick drink. “Yes, Josie was, or still is sometimes, his girlfriend.”

  “Would you say he’s a troublemaker?”

  “He’s a high school senior. It’s not like he was arrested.”

  “Still, public indecency is real.”

  “And Josie Clemmons didn’t even get her black card taken away.”

  My mom nods, pretending to act casual. “That’s a wealthy girl, great family. I bet he seduced her with those... those eyes of his.”

  I fight a laugh, grabbing a croissant from the box on the counter.

  Even my dear mother who thinks she’s too good for the world can’t deny Nico’s visual appeal.

  “Those eyes, Mom? Really?”

  Hers narrow, warning me not to say another word, but just as quickly, she smiles. “I was thinking, maybe I should walk around the corner, say hello to the Sykes. Maybe invite them for dinner?”

  A scoffed laugh escapes. “You don’t cook.”

  Anger quickly fills her eyes, so I clear my throat and try again.

  “Why the sudden interest in being neighborly?”

  “He’s your partner.” She pretends her intent is innocent, when we both know that’s never the case when she’s involved. “Perhaps you’ll be smart, and we’ll be seeing more of him.”

  “What does that mean, ‘be smart’?”

  “Oh, please, Demi. If he had Roger Clemmons’ approval to date his daughter, then there must be something promising about the boy. It’s worth looking into.”

  “So you want to, what, see if he meets your scale of measure?”

  Her expression hardens, and she decides to belittle me as she feels I’ve done to her. “Put the bread away, Demi.”

  I throw the croissant in the trash, set my Gatorade down with a hard slam, and walk out.

  I’m not going to do this with her right now.

  She knows Nico’s family is wealthy, and now that she’s seen his physical appeal, she’s interested in learning more so she can come to a shallow decision of whether or not she’ll hound me about him constantly or warn me to keep my distance.

  My dad mentioned a long time ago Nico and his family inherited a huge estate from one of his mom’s late aunts or something that set them up for life and landed them here in Santa Cruz.

  It must have been when Nico was a baby or something, because for as long as I can remember, he and I shared a fence.

  Now we just happened to share a lab table, too.

  There is no way it would ever be more than that.

  Having Leadership first period is as equally awesome as it sucks.

  Now that the voting is over and the class president and what have you has been picked, most of our time will be put into event planning, prep, or tear down, meaning most of our days will be spent outside of the clas
sroom. The weather here is typically on the chillier side, so it’s a lot of hoodies and iced coffees all year long.

  Thankfully, I had dance this morning and my blood is already pumping and I can manage staying warm while we wait for the sun to eat up all the coastal fog.

  “How the hell did we get stuck with the worst job when we did the most work to set this shit up?” Alex laughs as he moves along the fence line, peeling the tape left over from the campaign posters we just got done tearing down.

  I grin. “I know, and whoever tied these stupid ribbons made them so tight, I can hardly get the damn scissors beneath the material. I’ve only made it through the V. At this rate, they’ll be a lone T.E left on the fence tomorrow.”

  Alex sets his trash bag down, pulls off his gloves and throws them inside before walking my way.

  “Here.” He rubs his hands on his jeans, gently reaching for the scissors. “Why don’t we switch for a little bit.”

  “Are you sure, you basically already did the hard part.”

  “What kind of guy would I be if I let you struggle when I can do it for you?” He grins, flashing a smile that’s almost too perfect.

  “Okay,” I tease. “No need to lay it on thick.”

  He laughs, moving his attention to the ribbons, so I grab his bag and follow along the fence.

  He really did get two times as much done as I did.

  Like me, Alex joined the leadership team freshman year, so between now and then, there’ve been dozens of opportunities for me to make a move on him, but I always chicken out. At the end of the day, it’s simple. I can’t gauge the guy.

  Today is a perfect example. He’s been talking nonstop, laughing and smiling and teasing, but it’s not anything new. He’s always friendly when we work together, flirty to the point of being cheesy sometimes, but I’m pretty sure it’s a part of his personality.

  He likes attention, loves making girls smile or blush. It can be someone’s first day, and his turn as welcoming committee and he acts the same toward them, but it’s only ever while he’s in class or when we’re doing class-related work outside of it.

  In any other setting, it’s a friendly smile or nod and that’s it.

  And there lies the problem, his assumed interest only lasts from one bell to the next.

  I get to the end of the fence, stepping out from behind the bleachers and pause.

  Alone on the field and running full speed from the opposite end I’m standing, Nico flies yard for yard. Every ten or so he spins or does some fancy footwork and slants one way only to go to the next, until he’s breezing past me to the end zone, where he slows, only to dart back the way he came.

  He stops at the fifty, doing a little roll as if he’d just dove over an invisible defender coming for his legs, and then hops up, jumping from one foot to the other and a light laugh leaves me.

  So he practices his showboating moves.

  Why is he even out here? Weight training was zero period, he should be in class by now.

  He reaches up, stretching his arms over his head before folding them behind it.

  Alex slides into view in the same second, blocking Nico from me completely.

  “Hey.” His eyes bounce between mine. “All done.”

  “Yeah, I’m done.”

  “No.” He laughs. “I’m saying I’m done.”

  My mouth drops open with a light laugh. “Shut up.”

  He nods his head. “Yup.”

  “Oh my god! How the hell?” I smile, shoving him a little. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Go see for yourself.”

  “I’m about to,” I say, taking a step around him, Alex slides back with me, blocking me again.

  “Let’s walk behind, do a quick double check on our way back to make sure you’re not a slacker,” he teases as he moves toward the fence.

  “You wish, then you’d have a chance of getting a higher grade than me this year,” I shout, but just before I follow behind him, my eyes slide to the field.

  Empty.

  Huh.

  Once Alex and I get done throwing the garbage away, we walk toward the faucet to wash our hands.

  “Hey, so I didn’t get a chance to clean up my notes from chem, you think I can snag a copy of yours maybe?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I have them on me, but I’d need them back by the end of the day, so I can work on some review.”

  “Cool. I’ll make a quick copy and get them back to you in chem?”

  I smile. “Yeah, that works.”

  “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He grins and walks off ahead of me, even though our destination is the same.

  Once again, I’m nothing but an awesome classmate.

  I’m annoyed as my next few classes go on, and even more so when I end up running a few minutes late for chem thanks to an issue with the computer system in the class before. By the time I get to the room, only the aide is left.

  Josie’s sharp eyes follow as I set my stuff on the lab table, holding mine as I make my way back to her.

  My brows lift expectantly, but she still doesn’t tell me where I am supposed to go.

  She leans forward, her cleavage pushing against the top she’s wearing. “Interesting, you stay and talk to Mr. B yesterday and lo and behold, today’s class is on the football field.”

  “We’re on the field?”

  Thanks, Mr. Brando.

  Josie purses her lips. “How are your little ‘getting acquainted’ sessions going, Demi? He still ignoring you the best he can?”

  “Sure is, Josie. Is he still walking away from you in the halls?” I snap back but don’t stand there to catch her response.

  She told me where I needed to go, and I’m not interested in her drama.

  I quicken my steps, easily spotting Nico sitting against the goal post and drop beside him.

  “Sorry,” I rush out, but when he doesn’t so much as acknowledge my arrival, I don’t explain further.

  We sit there in annoying silence for a few minutes, and in that time, I can’t help but notice the way his gaze continues to roam the length of the turf.

  He must be running plays in his mind like I was my routine yesterday. Every few seconds his eyes tighten, then snap to another area, like he’s playing it all out, visualizing every move, maybe the ones I spotted him practicing earlier.

  The utility bin beside the team bench at the edge of the sidelines catches my attention.

  Oh, screw it. It’s worth a shot.

  I push off the grass to stand.

  That has Nico’s eyes snapping to mine, but I hardly spare him a glance, walking over to snag a football from the container.

  I’m tired of this avoidance crap, so... I’m getting on his level.

  It just so happens I’m wearing my Nike’s with a pair of shorts today, so I throw the ball up and try to kick it but of course it bounces off the side of my shoe, landing a sad foot away.

  I pick it up, noticing a few of the other groups cutting glances at me, but I ignore them and try again. This time it goes a solid five feet, sideways and wobbly, but still.

  I look to Nico.

  While his focus is lasered in on me, his expression remains bare.

  I pick it up again, tossing it in the air a few times only to throw it a little out, running to try and catch it, but it falls to the grass.

  Before I can make another grab for it, Nico’s swift hand flies in to snatch it first, and our eyes meet, both of us still bent over.

  I straighten first, and he slowly follows, twisting the ball in his hands.

  He eyes me a second, but then tips his chin as he positions his fingers against the laces, elbow raised and prepared to launch.

  I follow his lead, jogging out a few yards, and he throws a short pass I’m able to catch with ease.

  He licks his lips and claps his hands in front of him, his way of telling me to throw it back.

  I try kicking it again instead, and he frowns, but the corner of his lips tip up the slightest bit.
<
br />   “Ah.” I point to him teasingly before my hands find my hips. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what? You can’t kick for shit?” He points the ball to the left, so I start jogging that way, and the ball falls right into my hands.

  “No.” I take several steps back and his forehead creases slightly. “I knew that you couldn’t stay padlocked so tight when in your element.”

  I tip back slightly and throw the ball, it’s a horrible throw and spins the wrong way but it makes it close enough to where he can jog up and make the catch.

  “What do you know about my element, Pixie?”

  “Pixie?” I tilt my head slightly. “I’m less than a head shy of you. Not a pixie.”

  “Maybe I’m not talkin’ about your looks.”

  I swipe a hand out in a do tell type of way, but when he doesn’t acknowledge me, I answer his question. “Not much, to be honest, but I know it’s where you spend every afternoon pretty much all year long, pre-season, regular season, post-season.”

  We walk toward each other, but Nico quickly spins like he would in a game, a similar move I saw him do earlier, and I laugh, turning with him.

  He bobs, slowly swaying back and forth, so I move with him, and when he darts around me, rushing for the end zone, I trail behind.

  I’m only two feet from him, so when he stops abruptly, whipping around to face me, my body slams into his.

  I yelp slightly on impact and he catches me around the waist so we don’t fall, both of us laughing. I look up to catch him in the act, but slowly his amusement dies, causing mine to follow.

  I clear my throat and step back the second he removes his hand.

  I glance to the side where Mr. Brando stands at the edge of the bleachers, binder in hand.

  He tips his chin, a small smile in place, and then he switches his attention to a few of the other students around, so I turn back to Nico.

  Nico who has an icy stare locked in the direction mine just came from.

  When he finally brings his eyes back, he does so taking several steps away, and Alex is suddenly standing beside me.

  He hands over my notebook. “Thanks again for the help studying,” he says.

  I laugh, scrunching my nose. “They’re only copies, you’ll have to put the time in.”

  A tight laugh leaves him. “Right, yeah.”