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It works to clear the odd look from Tatum’s face. She perks up, smirking. “You’re on.”
I offer my hand, chest burning when she takes it without hesitation.
Everything feels more natural than I expected. All with the girl I never allowed myself to want. I always thought we could be great together and now I know it, feeling the connection I’ve been craving. Getting caught by Jackson has opened up a path I never thought was possible.
TWENTY-SEVEN
TATUM
A text from Cooper lights up my phone, letting me know he’s waiting for me downstairs in his Jeep for tonight’s bonfire. It’s the annual end of summer hurrah, and the party we all consider his birthday celebration. After tonight, it’s crunch time. The final countdown is on for my first semester at South Bay College starting next week. The excitement I’ve felt all summer crossing out days on my sea turtle-themed calendar is present, though now it carries a tinge of jitters with it.
I couldn’t wait to start college to begin living my life to the fullest, and here I am about to kick off my first semester with a boyfriend—fakeboyfriend.
Tatum:Be out in a minute.
Cooper:The longer you take, the more you cut into our parking lot make out time before we party. I’m gonna need to reacquaint myself with your perfect lips. Take too long and I’m sending in a retrieval team [wink emoji]
A breathy laugh escapes me. Before I lock my screen, the number of notifications on my TikTok app makes my heart skip a beat. I should turn them off. The numbers on the little red circle keep climbing, well into the four hundreds since I last checked this morning. After Cooper’s two posts from our first fake date went viral, my account has been bombarded with comments on the videos he tagged me in, new followers, and DM requests. I never expected anything like this.
When I agreed to the new plan, it was because I wanted to help Cooper. He presented logical reasoning for this change in our situation to work out for both of us—training wheels college boyfriend to help me acclimate to college life and a sensible girlfriend for him to reform his playboy image.
I thought I was cool with this. Turns out, I might be in over my head.
It wasn’t until I realized I have no idea what comes next that my habit of over analyzing kicked in. At the pier I was going for a fake it until I make it approach, projecting a calm and collected vibe to keep myself from freaking out every time he touched me freely. The practice run was a good idea, something I definitely needed as a baseline. Tonight would be a disaster without it.
I don’t know how to be in a relationship, so if I’m going to help Cooper, I need to know what to expect in every situation—how I’m supposed to act around him in public, ideal times for PDA, and how much of myself I should be. My YouTube search history is full of teeny bopper vlogs capturing dates with their partner. I scoured them for ideas on how to navigate the date at the pier. It went okay, but I’m ashamed of how many videos I watched to get inspiration from couples over four years younger than us.
How am I the right girl for the job when my experience level was still at the starting line until I went to him?
I thrive on studying the development and behavior of the human mind, yet faced with choices and opportunity, I freeze up, second-guessing every little thing. When I’m with him, it’s easy. Then as soon as I’m alone, my mind works overtime to attack his logic.
It’s like there’s a secret manual everyone but me received, still leaving me lagging.
Coming out to thousands of strangers around the world on social media is one thing, but tonight we’re officially coming out as a couple to our friends in South Bay. They’re the ones we have to convince since they actually know us.
I thought this would be the easier part than faking it for social media, but a bout of anxious nerves has me shaking out my hands and pacing my room as I run through a mental list I’ve memorized from the notes I took to keep myself from freaking out about pretending to be Cooper’s girlfriend in front of everyone we know. Music from one of my playlists—this one titledsongs to have a crisis to (we don’t break down, we pivot)—plays from my phone.
We first started dating at the bonfire. Kept things on the down low because of Jackson. Don’t forget to hold hands. When sitting, choose his lap if there’s room.
Halting my pacing in front of my mirror, I assess my outfit for the third time. I went for an off-shoulder cropped sweater with a pastel rainbow pattern embroidered on it that exposes my stomach and my trusty cut-offs. It’s slightly out of my comfort zone, yet still me.
The girls Cooper usually dates are gorgeous and extroverted, favoring makeup, fashion, and have so much more experience. And good for them, but those things don’t come easily for me because I spent so long focused on my studies rather than building up my confidence in social settings. Even after the last several weeks with Cooper, I’m a baby in terms of coming out of my shell. It’s not that I want to be exactly like the girls he’s usually with, just…believable as Cooper’s girlfriend. I don’t want it to be obvious and fail at faking this.
How was this so much easier to navigate when it was only about losing my virginity and learning the bedroom skills I lacked to fit in at college?
A knock at my door startles me, then warmth spreads through my body at the voice on the other side.
“Ready to go, babe?” Cooper cracks the door. “I hear your hype music. If you’re up here making another list of conversation topics for the party, I’m confiscating all of your notebooks.”
I shoot him a harassed look. “Do that and I won’t be held responsible for my actions to rescue my babies.”
He chuckles, sliding into the room. Leaning against the door, his head cocks and his gaze roams over me.
“You look great, and if we don’t leave in the next thirty seconds, you’re going to look even better because I’m going to rip every piece of clothing off you.” His mouth curves slowly. “For real, if I come any closer, my hands can’t be held responsible for their actions.”
My insides coil, on board with that idea. That we have no problem with. I’d much rather do that, then curl up with him to binge a nature documentary on Netflix. It’s not in the plan, though.
“I’m ready.” Shutting off my playlist, I grab my phone and paste on a smile. “Can’t have you be late to your own birthday, dude.”
