Fakeboyfriend, I want to say. I shake my head at him. He unclips his seatbelt and opens the door. He gives me a pretend smile and then drops it as he gets out of the door.
He looks adorable and ridiculous at the same time. He walks towards his front door, stomping like a child, before I wind down my window shout after him.
“One and a half,” I shout loudly, almost cringing at myself. He turns around, jogging back to me until he’s at my door.
“What?” he a, leaning his arms on the hood of the car.
“One and a half. That’s how many guys I’ve slept with,” I say quieter this time. His face unknots with confusion as he looks at me intensely.
“A half?” he asks, not hiding the surprise in his tone. "What the fuck does that mean?"
“He couldn’t make me come,” I murmur. I watch Miles’ throat as he swallows audibly, his pupils becoming dilated. I start the car up again and change the gear. “Bye, Miles.”
“You… You can’t leave like that,” he stutters.
“See you later, alligator,” I shout as I back out of his drive, leaving his jaw open and hands hanging at his sides.
CHAPTER 11
MILES
Every time I walk into Wren’s apartment, it gradually becomes more and more chaotic. It’s still the same three girls but with amount of noise and mess they make you’d think that there’s at least ten of them. Each time I go, I’m also pestered with more and more questions. Kennedy is always the one asking them while Scarlett murmurs sly comments under her breath. Sometimes I feel like Wren asks me to come early on purpose, while she’s still getting ready, just so I can be peppered with more questions.
Now, I’m standing at the kitchen island, with Kennedy sat on the other side, eating dry Cheerio’s like that girl fromMonsters Inc. Scarlett is laying on her back on the couch, just out of view. And Wren… honestly, I don’t think I’ve seen her since she answered the door in her blue leotard before rushing off to change.
“So, what’s it like to be fake dating Wren?” Kennedy asks loudly, trying to get Wren’s attention wherever she is. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”
“Everything and more,” I drawl.
"Come on," Ken presses, rolling her eyes. "She's not here. What do you really think about her?"
I raise my eyebrow. "What do you mean? She's great."
"Of course she's great. I know that. I wouldn't be best friends with her if I didn't know that."
I can't lie. Kennedy scares me sometimes. I can't tell what she's trying to get out of me so I decide to tell her the truth.
"She's fun to hang out with even though I feel like she hates me most of the time. She's a lot cooler than me if I'm being completely honest," I admit the second she materialises in the kitchen. Kennedy nods thoughtfully, adding more Cheerios into her mouth. Wren's changed out of her leotard into light washed jeans and a dark green cable knit sweater. Her hair is tied back in a claw clip, two short blonde strands falling in her face. “You look nice.”
She looks at me, walking closer as if she’s only just seen me. “Thanks. You clean up nice yourself.” She beams at me before slipping behind me towards the fridge.
“I don’t get why you can tell two people about our arrangement, but I can only tell one. Plus, Kennedy and Scarlett ask me a million questions all the time, so they amount to, like, twenty people,” I say, turning to face her again. I lean against the countertop, my arms folded across my chest.
“Fine, go and tell Evan. Be my guest,” she responds, her head still stuck in the fridge. Within seconds, Scarlett is up from the couch, stood in my face, pointing at me. I look over at Wren for help but she’s still searching around the fridge, the door blocking her from view.
“Don’t you dare tell that little weasel anything!” Scarlett exclaims, jabbing her finger into my chest. I raise my hands in surrender, but she doesn’t move. Finally, Wren comes to my rescue.
“Scarlett, calm down,” she says to her friend who backs away slowly, glaring at me. Wren gulps the purple-pink smoothie in her hand before looking at me. “You ready to go?”
I nod enthusiastically and we leave to get in my truck. I scrubbed my truck clean before driving here. We’ve been taking her precious Honda Civic to the gym most mornings, but I knew I had to do a deep clean before she could ever see my car. I worked at Nero’s and saved up for four summers to get my truck; thinking I would use it all the time only to end up moving five minutes away from campus.
We pull up outside of Sophia’s miniature mansion and the music is already surrounding us. The lawn is littered with the smokers, talking loudly over clouds of smoke. Cars line up the driveway and onto the block and I turn over to see Wren scanning the surroundings. She hesitates to open the door. I put my hand reassuringly on her knee and she turns to me, her breathing suddenly heavy.
“If you want to leave at any time, just say the word, and we’ll go,” I whisper, and she waits a beat before nodding. The last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable. "I'm going to keep you safe tonight."
We walk up to the house, hand in hand. Well, sort of. She holds onto three of my fingers as if that’s all her hand can take and it's fucking up my insides. I can feel Wren’s hand squeezing my fingers tightly as we open the door to a party that is in full swing.
Music blasts from speakers in all directions, people stood aimlessly with Solo cups in their hands. Fruity smoke from bongs and vapes infuse my senses and it takes me a second to adjust to the sudden change in scenery. I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few months at parties like these but this one is something different. It’s a million times louder and full that the ones I end up at.
