I watch as he appears to fly, jumping and spinning in superhuman ways. Far too soon, the piece is over. I join the crowd in clapping loudly. Judging by the looks around me, I might be a little overenthusiastic.
I stay until the end of the show, seeing Covey again only briefly when he comes out for a bow at the end. Like the rest of the audience, I’m on my feet, hollering praise at them.
When everyone starts to filter out, I decide to make a beeline for my car. I’m not sure if it’s like a play where the cast comes out into the lobby to chat with the audience, but I don’t want him to know I was here. As soon as I’m safely in my car, I let the whole experience wash over me.
My phone buzzing in my pocket pulls me from my thoughts. I yank it out of my pocket, afraid it might be Covey asking why I was there. Instead, I find a message from Silas.
Silas
In love with him yet?
I read the message a few times before I realize all these feelings I’m having? I’m falling in love with Covey.
CHAPTER 18
COVEY
Three days, four performances, and zero messages from Aidan. Not talking to him feels like a terrible punishment. I only wish I knew what I did wrong.
Other than pushing him into becoming my fake boyfriend, crossing the lines of our friendship, and subjecting him to my family.
Right, so the silence is well-earned. It still feels unfair. In a short time, I got used to speaking to Aidan every day. All the messages back and forth, the phone calls, the time together in front of the TV.Like all the years and miles we put between us didn’t matter. I’m well aware that those kinds of relationships are rare. I hate to think I spoiled it.
My one text message to him, asking if he’s okay, is left unread. It’s put me in knots. If I’m not on stage, I’m thinking about him.Even then, he’s never far from my mind.
Calling it off early is best for everyone. It means telling my family that we broke up and managing Christmas withthem on my own while they all commiserate over my loss. It’s worth it if I can salvage our friendship.
To do that, I need to stop being a fucking coward, pick up the phone, and call him. I’ve written and deleted dozens of text messages, but this is one of those conversations that needs more than a pop-up on his screen. Plus, I’m struggling to find the right words. I’m hoping they’ll come to me once I’m speaking. Nothing like going out there and winging it, expecting a stroke of genius to hit me when I hear his voice.
What could go wrong?
The phone rings four times before Aidan picks up.
“Hi, Covey.” I like the way he says my name. Everyone says it differently, pronouncing and stressing the syllables in different ways. Aidan’s version is my favorite.
“Do you have a few minutes? I want to talk to you about something.” There’s rustling in the background, followed by the sound of a key in a lock.
“Sorry, just got home from school.” Six o’clock? For some reason, I thought teachers finished earlier than that.
“I can call you back,” I say quickly. It’s a stupid offer because I’m pretty sure if I don’t do this now, I’ll lose my nerve entirely.
“No, just give me a second to put my stuff down.” There’s a bunch of noise on the other end. I imagine him going through his routine, taking off his coat and shoes, putting everything away for the day.
It’s Aidan, so I suspect most of those things are on the floor instead of put away. “Okay, what’s up?”
“Thanksgiving ended poorly. And then I kissed you, and things got weird. Well, weirder. And then the whole thing blew up.”Great work, Covey. The plan to wing it is going very smoothly, if I ignore the verbal diarrhea. “I think we should be done with the whole thing.” There. I said it.
“What whole thing?”
“The fake dating thing.” I’m pacing my kitchen, unable to hold still for even a second.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
I hold my phone out from my ear and stare at it. I wonder if this is how Alice felt when she found herself in Wonderland. It’s like everything’s a little off, and I no longer know which rules do and don’t apply. “I-I’m fake breaking up with you.”
“Well, if you’re fake breaking up with me, that would mean that we’re technically still together.”
I could really use a drink. The water with lemon in my big mug isn’t cutting it.“But it’s a fake relationship.”
