Page 91 of The Kiss of Deception

When I open my eyes, I find Zoe tied a crooked silky bow around my wrist, right beside her scrunchie.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zoe

Human beings experience at least one moment of insanity in their lives.

A moment in time in which they black out and do things they later regret. A glitch in their synapses that results in disastrous decisions and catastrophic consequences. That’s how some justify committing murder. They blinked and oopsie, man down.

Thus, I find myself in my current predicament. A momentary glitch. I blinked and oopsie, I called my fake mother-in-law and invited her to the surprise party I decided to organize in honor of my fake-boyfriend’s birthday. I invited myself to meet the family, and I invited the family to watch our fictional fabrications from first-row seats.

I’ve been experiencing many moments of insanity lately.

That’s what I’m telling myself to justify my actions. The reason I’m drowning in a sea of white, navy, and silver decorations, balloons and paper streamers, glitter and confetti.

“When I grow up, I want you to be my girlfriend and throw me surprise parties. Though, maybe not this… theme. Oh, we should add a splash of color. This is too… monocoloratic… or whatever the word is,” Camila babbles.

Once she starts, there’s no stopping her. If only I could concentrate on her ramblings, maybe I could stop running circles in my head.

“Rodri is afraid of balloons. Can you believe it? The little chicken blames me, too. ’Cause I used to burst them at all his parties.” She cackles like a Disney villain. “He flinches everytime he’s close. Let’s hide some to mess with him later?”

The question doesn’t register in my rogue thoughts.

“Earth to Zoe. Earth to Zoe!” Camila booms right in my ear, then goes back to blowing up a blue balloon.

“What the fuck?” The letters of happy birthday drop to the floor, my hand busy, soothing my poor ear. “What’s wrong with you?”

I’m definitely deaf, but I can still hear her incessant chatter, so maybe not entirely. Yet.

“So many things, babe. Don’t get me started!” She pinches the balloon between her thumb and forefinger. “Let’s talk about interesting things. What’s wrong with you? You’re so fidgety. And nervous.” She looks me up and down. “You’re nervous.” She gasps, releasing the balloon. It shot in the air, deflating with a whistle and falling flat on the floor in front of us. “Are you going to propose?”

“What?” My eyes are as wide as hers as we stare at each other, shocked by the ideas in her head. “No! I’m not going to propose! Of course I’m not going to propose. What—Why would you even think that?”

She deflates like the balloon. “Well, it’s just a formality, at this point.”

A formality. Marriage is the logical next step. To the world, we have one foot down the aisle.

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“It’s all a lie,” I blurt suddenly, needing to expel the turmoil inside of me. Make sense of it. Push it out so the world bears its weight alongside me.

“Uh?”

“Me and Miles. It’s a lie. We’re a lie. We’re not together.” I try to keep my tone even in my rush to get the words out. They taste foul in my mouth. “We lied. We’re lying.”

Camila breathes too much air into the balloon. It blows up in her face. POP.

“What?” she screeches. “Excuse my ignorance, but I don’t think I understand you. You’re like, speaking British or something? Like, I know all those words you just said but somehow they don’t make sense to me.”

I take a breath and tell her everything. I tell her about the not-kiss that started everything. I tell her about the dinner that changed everything. I tell her about the agreement, about our expiration date. I tell her everything except for the reason behind the not-kiss.

By the time I finish, Camila lies on the floor next to the remnants of balloons she burst in her shock, eyes, arms, legs splayed open. “I have so many questions, but I’m not sure what they are, yet. I need time to process this. I’ll be staring at your ceiling for the next forty minutes.”

I chuckle, because that’s Camila. Amidst all the turmoil, she makes me laugh. Amidst all the turmoil, there’s a peaceful wave of gratitude for my friend.

“You’ve got ten, honey. I have to pick up my fake-mother-in-law from the airport. And you’re coming with me.”

Her dramatic ass stands just to drop on the couch like she’d just fainted again.

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