‘I make a lot of money.’ Sheila nodded. ‘More than you.’
‘She makes more than all of us put together,’ Zane said.
‘I designed a gaming app. It’s been downloaded over twenty-five million times.’
‘Okay. Wow! That’s impressive,’ Andrew said.
‘Impressive enough to be my fake boyfriend?’ she asked.
Andrew looked around the table first, and then his eyes settled on me. ‘Well, if Pippa doesn’t mind, and I wasn’t busy, I mean . . . I could come. If it would help you?’ He raised his eyebrows at me. I looked at him blankly and then clicked.
‘Oh, you’re asking me if I mind you being Sheila’s fake boyfriend too?’
He nodded.
‘No . . . of course not. Why would I mind?’ But as those words came out of my mouth, I realized that I did mind. An unexpected feeling made my stomach churn. I wasn’t sure how to interpret it.
‘The function is next week Friday.’ She perked up as Andrew pulled his phone out and started scrolling.
‘Sorry, I’m flying to Durban that night.’
Sheila slumped again. ‘It’s okay. Thanks for the offer.’
‘I’ll be your fake boyfriend.’ Zane sat up straight in his chair.
Sheila did a double-take. ‘You?’
‘Why not?’ he asked.
‘You?’ she repeated.
‘Me.’ He puffed out his chest.
Sheila stared intensely at Zane as if she’d never seen him before. ‘Okay. But you can’t wear clothes like that. You need to look smarter. And you have to brush your hair . . . or what hair you have left,’ she said, looking at the bald patch at the top of his head that had been spreading rapidly this past year. He was usually so self-conscious about any mention of his hair, but he didn’t seem to mind this time. On the contrary. He smiled at Sheila, for so long that I wondered if his lips had gotten stuck to his teeth, and then he quickly looked back down at his cards.
I landed up winning the Pokémon tournament, obviously. Zane and I had battled in the final, an intense match where our best decks squared off. My deck emerged triumphant though. Andrew had watched the entire tournament as if he was really interested; I could hear him asking questions as we played. They seemed like genuine questions, the kind that you ask when you really want to know something, not the kind you just throw out when you want to fill an empty space.
After the game, I found myself in Andrew’s car driving off to meet his friends.
‘That was really interesting,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen a Pokémon game before. I liked it. Lots of strategy and details. I like that kind of thing.’
‘Me too.’
‘And the people there are cool. And I think Sheila and Zane will probably have something to announce soon too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Zane is totally into Sheila.’
‘How do you know?’ I was taken aback by this information.
‘Didn’t you notice his smile when she agreed to let him be her fake boyfriend?’
‘And seeing that smile leads you to believe that he likes her?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Huh,’ I said thoughtfully. I’d never thought about it before, but Zane often smiled at Sheila. He often brought her favorite coffee and chocolates and offered to take her home, since she only ever Ubered. I’d just never put two and two together. Mind you, liking or not liking someone; these kinds of subtle non-verbal communications that wafted invisibly through the air between people, were often missed by me. I was always fascinated when others were able to pick up on these invisible alerts that people apparently gave off. They moved like unseen radio waves, but no one had ever given me the correct frequency to tune in.
