I’m trying to convince myself that these sorts of panicking feelings just happen. They aren’t going to determine my life and this fake relationship. I tried to shake off all those feelings in the shower, but my hands still shake a little when I reach for my phone.
When I unlock it, it’s instantly flooded with followers and tags. I knew Miles was popular, but I didn’t know the extent of it until now. I’ve got follows on Instagram from people that I’ve never spoken to before and likes from the people that shunned me after regionals. A strange sensation runs through my body when I click onto Miles’ profile and there it is.
The most recent post in his grid is a picture of me in the diner we went to a candid of me nudging around my fries as I look down at them, my hair almost covering my face, but you can tell it’s me. I don’t know how I missed him taking the photo. I look over it again, take note of what I can see before my eyes wander down to the caption.
Eating bad fries in the middle
of nowhere with my girl ??.
My heart bottoms out.
Jesus Christ.My girl?Why do those two words make my heart constrict and breathing stop? They shouldn't. He doesn’t mean it, obviously, but I don’t hate the feeling of pretending he did. I wander down to the comments which are a mixture ofYou guys are so cute,When did this happen?andWho is she?From this picture alone I’ve gained a shit ton of followers. I check my DM’s and I scroll to find any names that I can recognise. I pull up Gigi’s chat.
Gigi: I thought you were lying at first.
Gigi: Were you guys really in the middle of nowhere?
Gigi: Also, why are you covering your face? You seem happy.
Me: I don’t know exactly where it was, so I guess so. It was a candid and I'm glad to have tour approval, G.
Gigi: You don’t need my approval but it’s good to know that you care about what people think.
I know Gigi enough to laugh it off and shut off my phone. When sleep pulls me under, I have the biggest and most ridiculous smile on my face.
CHAPTER 13
MILES
Since Sophia's, I’ve been trying my best to find a way for me and Wren to really get a handle on this fake dating thing. Parties aren’t really her thing which is understandable. I mean, who really wants to be around a bunch of sweaty teenagers who are high as fuck? She has a point there but it’s very limited to go anywhere that will create some sort of excitement around our relationship. I don’t want to push her into going to parties if it’s going to freak her out. I also don’t think that me being around alcohol is a good idea when I need to get my head on straight.
I’ve spent the last few days moping around, feeling pathetic as I throw a ball at my wall from my bed, watching it bounce back. Is this how it usually feels when I haven’t had a drink? I’ve never realised how lonely I was until I’ve seen what it's like to be around Wren. Now, I feel like smashing my head against the wall out of boredom.
I finally put myself out of my misery and throw on jeans and a hoodie and jump into my car. I connect my phone to the bluetooth and put on the playlist that I’ve started to put together for Wren. Okay, it’s notforher but it’s also…for her. It’s just songs that not only remind me of her but songs that I know she likes from going to the gym and hearing them on repeat. When I’m not on the ice, I love to discover new music. Carter and I would have a pre-game pump up playlist that we would listen to before every game. Now, just hovering over that playlist makes my stomach turn. Instead, I put on ‘Jump Then Fall,’ by Taylor Swift and it immediately puts me in a good mood as I drive around my side of town, desperately trying not to go straight to Wren’s apartment.
I mean, technically I should be able to go and see her when I want since she’s my girlfriend. Fake girlfriend but still. She must be stalking me or something because the second the song finishes my phone lights up with a text from her.
Wren:Campus library. Study sesh. Now.
Me:Damn. Not even a ‘please.’
Wren:I’m asking you to come study with me. You should be the one saying ‘please’ since I’m such a great person to be around.
Me:Who said I want to study with you?
The bubbles appear, suggesting that she’s typing but they disappear again and I laugh to myself for getting under her skin. I can’t help it sometimes. She’s just too easy to wind up and lucky for her, I like it when she gets mad at me.
Wren:Miles, would you please come study with me so I don’t fail my test. Not to be dramatic but you’re my last hope.
Me:That’s my girl.
Me:Wait. What is that supposed to mean? I’m supposed to be your first choice.
Wren:Just get to the library.
Me:I’m on my way.
I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been to the campus library. It’s a large Adam-style building that contrasts the other modern architecture around the rest of the school, right across from Florentino’s. Me and books don’t mix well, which is why I chose a course where I could do minimal reading. I can read a banging biography but textbooks are a no-go.
