Page 49 of Unnecessary Drama

‘Ow,’ he breathes into my ear.

Why is that so sexy, damn it?

‘Sorry,’ I say.

He gives me instructions, and I nod, then I tap the ball with my pool cue, and it’s a surprisingly good shot. I turn and hug him in celebration, which feels like what a couple would do. But it also feels natural.

Jesse lifts me up off the floor with the hug, and my face is right at the part where his neck meets his shoulder, and I have a particular weakness for where a neck meets a shoulder, so it’s only natural my heart flutters. My cheek presses against his bare skin, and I resist the urge to keep it there, to burrow in, to just stay put.

He puts me down, and I turn away, because I’m scared of what my face might be revealing.

We keep playing, laughing, high-fiving when I hit a good shot, teasing each other, and I forget we are only pretending to be a couple. I forget that this is Jesse. I forget Do I like Brooke? No. No. Fuck, no.

We beat Tristan and Henry. Twice. Mostly because Henry is quite bad at pool, and obviously doesn’t care about losing. He cheerfully clapped and cheered whenever Jesse or I made a good shot. Tristan pretends like he doesn’t care, but I know he loves to win a game, any game. There’s nothing less appealing than someone who really really loves to win, but pretends they don’t, and then makes excuses as to why they’re annoyed when they lose. Just admit it, I want to say to him. I can admit it.

‘I guess Jesse and I are just a really good partnership,’ I say, mostly because I want to see Tristan’s reaction. He’ll dwell on this, the idea that I might be in a more successful partnership of any kind.

‘How many times have you played together before?’ Tristan asks suspiciously. He’s been drinking beers throughout the game, and I can see he’s almost drunk.

‘Never, she’s just naturally talented,’ Jesse says, standing behind me, and then he puts his arms around me in a hug, his arms meeting across my chest and his head rests on the top of my head, and my face feels burning hot, like a full body blush, my skin tingly from my toes to my head.

Brooke, this is fake.

Fake. Pretend. Not real. A fiction.

Do I actually like Jesse in some way, or do I just like having a pretend boyfriend, or maybe it’s because Tristan is here stirring up things, combined with the failure of Henry, or maybe it’s just my loneliness sparking a fire inside me, or maybe it’s some kind of psychological reaction to my history with Jesse. I need someone to analyse me, slap my face, pull me together, tell me what the hell is going on.

22

Tristan is definitely getting drunk and sloppy now. So is Henry. Kendra is still with her group of friends but she keeps looking over at Tristan and making faces. I can’t tell if she’s unhappy that he hasn’t rejoined her or if she wants to escape and join him. Tristan and Henry are busy bonding over a comedy show they both love, quoting it at each other and collapsing in laughter.

‘You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Tooky?’ Tristan says to me. Tooky was the nickname he called me when we were together. I tense at his use of it.

‘Yes, I watched a bit of it,’ I say.

‘Sorry. Did you say Tooky?’ Jesse says to Tristan.

‘Tooky was her nickname,’ Tristan says, smiling sadly and shaking his head like I’m dead and he’s reflecting back over my life. He’s way drunker than I’d realised. Classic Tristan. He does this, seems fine and then, bam, he’s very drunk, and there’s no time to adjust between the two states.

‘Interesting,’ Jesse says, looking at me with wide eyes and I know he’s going to tease me about it later.

‘Tooky,’ Henry says, and laughs. He seems to have crossed the line into drunk at the same time as Tristan. Jesse, thankfully, hasn’t been drinking at all.

Jesse and I sit, pressed close on the couch, and listen to Henry and Tristan happily chatting, moving on from the show they both like to a podcast they both love, talking over each other. We occasionally try to join in the conversation, but they’re not really listening to us. Henry and I might have failed but I’m happy he’s at least getting a good friendship date right now. It’s only when I see Harper and Penny chatting to a big group of Harper’s friends that I realise Jesse probably wants to escape this and go and join them. Amber might even be here somewhere.

‘I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a five-minute thing. And it’s ruined your whole night,’ I say to him.

‘It hasn’t ruined my night. I’m having fun,’ he says.

‘Really?’ I’m not sure if I believe him. This is the problem with pretending to be in a relationship. Where does the sham stop and the truth start. Also, I’m never sure other people are having the same amount of fun as I am.

‘Well, we won pool.’ He ticks it off on his fingers.

‘That’s true.’

‘And Tristan is clearly pissed off on some level that we’re together.’ Another finger tick.

‘Also true.’