Is green still your favorite color?
A minute goes by with no response. He’s probably working, doing whatever it is that he does. Maybe he can’t check his phone at work? My mom must have mentioned his career at some point. Or at least he mentioned a college major to me at some point. Suddenly, I can’t remember a single thing about him beyond his name.
That doesn’t bode well for this ruse.
CHAPTER 5
AIDAN
This will never work. I thought I’d left this kind of rash decision aside when I gave up clubbing. In the last two years, I’ve managed to avoid waking up with a hangover… until today. Even though I only had one drink last night, I’ve spent the whole day feeling like I got run over by a freight train.Twice.
Specifically, one named Covey. As kids, he talked me into the craziest shit. That hasn’t changed. Even if this time it was my idea, it was his sad blue eyes and pouty lips that made me do it.
“Ready?” Covey asks when he meets me on the front stoop of his parents’ house. I’d have preferred driving together, taking those few minutes to make sure we had our story straight, but our work days didn’t align, and neither of us had time to make it work. Instead, we agreed that this was the easiest option, taking separate cars and meeting here.
“As close as I’m going to get.” I’ve already spenteight hours fretting; there’s nothing a few more minutes will get me. A few students took advantage of my distraction and colored their desks for several minutes before I caught on.
“Don’t worry. Tonight’ll be quick and easy.”
Covey’s confidence is infectious. By the time he opens the door, I’m almost able to convince myself that this is a good idea.
That self-assuredness fades the moment we walk through the front door, and the aroma of apples and cinnamon assaults me.
“You’re here,” Edith calls out, extending her arms to the two of us. She hugs Covey, pulling him in close and holding onto him for several seconds. My arms suddenly feel completely alien, and I shove my hands in my pockets, hoping it will keep me from doing something stupid.
“Aidan, come here.” I don’t move fast enough, and she pulls me into her arms quickly, enveloping me. My hands are still stuck in my pants, so I stand awkwardly, unable to hug her back. “I’m so happy you’re here.” She steps back, keeping her hands on my shoulders, the space between us only slightly more than a minute ago. “And with our Covey.” She tilts her head to the side and gives me a look of adoration I’ve only seen in movies. “We always thought the two of you would get together at some point, although that was before Cove went away to school.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth, like she’s still not sure about that decision. “It took you longer than we all expected, but you got there.”
“We?” I croak out.
“Oh yes. Your mom and I used to sit around talking about it over wine.”
My mom.In all the planning we did—a whole five minutes of discussion and nine text messages—I never once considered my family. Or the shared history between our families. Although my dad no longer lives here, my mom does. It wasnaive to think Covey’s mom wouldn’t be ready to get the whole gang back together. Lying to Covey’s family is one thing. Lying to mine?
Is it hot in here?
“You okay?” Covey asks, whispering in my ear. “You look a bit pale.”
“Fine.” I bite back the emotions swirling through my head. How could I forget about something like that? As always, it’s Covey’s influence. When I’m in his orbit, nothing else matters.
“Why don’t you go in the kitchen and ask Covey to fix you something? A little drink might perk you right up,” Edith offers.
That sounds like a good way to wind up naked on the front lawn. I’m familiar with her drinks, and they tend to be strong and plentiful, which isn't a good combination for calling my mom later. After I figure out exactly what I’m going to tell her. I can’t tell her the truth—that this is all a lie—because she’ll sell us out. But I can’t imagine lying either. Especially knowing there’s a date in the future when I’ll have to tell her we broke up.
“Come on.” Covey takes my hand, leading me out of the living room and into the kitchen. Maybe a bit of alcohol will do something for the dread currently swirling in my stomach.
COVEY
Maddox was full of shit. Pretending to date Aidan is easy. It’s a genius idea. There’s not that much difference between a friend and a boyfriend. We’ll make it through a few quick holiday dinners, then we can amicably split after the first of the year—no hard feelings, of course—before we return to our regularly scheduled lives.
We’ll stay best friends, obviously. It’s nice to have one person in my life who isn’t in the ballet company. I love my fellow dancers with all my heart, but they can be overwhelming. When you spend your days eating, sleeping, working, and playing with the same people, things can start to feel a bit weird. Plus, even when I find a great friend, I never know when they might move to a different company. At this point, half of my friends are in Europe. A few of my childhood friends are still in Vermont, but most have moved away. The ones who are here, I’m slowly reconnecting with while slowly making new ones. Having Aidan back in my life is the perfect happy accident.
“Covey.”Shit. Aidan does not look happy. His harsh whisper reverberates through the kitchen, and I pause, mug in hand.
“Want some cider? I can add rum to yours.” I ladle a mug full out of the crockpot. Making apple cider this way may seem ridiculous, but it’s delicious. My mom makes it from fresh apples, then adds a whole bunch of spices that spend all day infusing. It’s even better with a bit of rum. It’s probably for the best that I’m not drinking tonight. Someone needs to keep our story straight.
“What about my mom?”
“Is she here? I can get her some cider, too.” I look around, but we’re the only ones in here.
