Page 84 of The Dixon Rule

“Lindley,” I say in misery. “Before I go over to Sweet Birch to confront him, I need you to agree to be my boyfriend.”

He shrugs. “Sure, let’s go. I owe you one.”

“Not just for today. I’m talking about the entire time he’s here.”

“Didn’t Marnie say he’s renting the unit for six weeks?” Shane demands.

I bite my lip. “You said so yourself—you owe me one.”

“Dixon. I asked you to be my girlfriend for one night. You’re asking me to give up my whole summer.”

“Give up what? You already said you don’t want to sleep around, so it’s not like you’ll be bringing random women home all summer. Right?”

“Right, but—”

“And all you were planning to do this summer was take it easy. Being my fake boyfriend doesn’t change your plans at all. And it gives you more opportunities to make your ex jealous,” I finish, grasping at as many straws as I can.

“So you’re trying to make Percy jealous?”

“No, I want him to leave me alone!”

Shane’s forehead creases at my outburst. “Dixon…” he starts warily. “What exactly is going on?”

I feel the desperation rising again, gripping my throat in its talons. I can’t have Percy living here, but I also can’t have Shane knowing Percy is the reason for the bruise on my face. It’s so fucking mortifying.

I start walking again. Standing still is making me feel dizzy. Shane matches my stride, and I feel his gaze boring into the side of my face.

“I don’t want him here.” I hate how small my voice sounds. “I broke up with him and he can’t accept it. Please, Lindley, it’s only six weeks. Once he’s gone, we can tell everyone we broke up.”

“Wait, you want us to lie to people we know? Even Gigi and Ryder?”

“Just while Percy is here. I don’t want it getting back to him that we might be faking it.”

That’s a lie. The reason I don’t want to tell Gigi that Shane and I are faking it for Percy’s expense is because her first question is going to be why.

Why am I playing games instead of telling Percy to fuck off? Why am I putting on a charade instead of marching headfirst into battle?

And those whys require me to tell the truth.

That he hit me.

That I’m scared of having him around me.

That I’ve never felt more ashamed in my life.

My brain is a tangled jumble of thoughts. Some of them might be irrational. I recognize that. But I can’t do it. I can’t tell my friends that my ex-boyfriend hit me. I tried, damn it. I saw Gigi this week. I opened my mouth, fully prepared to confess that Percy gave me this black eye, but the words refused to come out. Instead, I fed her the lie.

“Gigi’s never gonna believe it,” Shane says wryly.

“Sure she will. Besides, she’s going to be distracted by the wedding and honeymoon.” I implore him. “Please? I’d feel better…safer…if he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“Safer?” Shane echoes, wary again.

“I mean in the sense that he won’t show up at my door with breakfast and make me uncomfortable,” I say smoothly.

Speaking of uncomfortable, the devil himself suddenly appears on the path. Dressed in khakis and a white T-shirt, Percy’s arms are full of two cardboard boxes that have the words TEXTBOOKS written on them in black marker.

I halt. Our eyes lock, and there’s no mistaking the flash of guilt in his. This is the first time I’ve seen him since the night at Della’s, and while being in his proximity again triggers a jolt of deep disgust, I also feel a twinge of fear. And that’s what pisses me off the most.

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