Page 73 of Fake Game

“Yikes, who killed the vibe in here?”

We whip our heads around to see Lee leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” I smile. “We were just about to text you about grabbing food.”

“Like this?” She holds up two white plastic bags with her left hand, grinning.

“You’re a mind reader.”

“If only.” She laughs and nods her head back. “Come on. I just passed your movers on the way out. We have the place to ourselves, and I’m starving to death.”

Syd and I watch as she disappears back into the body of the apartment. I remain rooted to the floor, but Syd gives my knee a pat before she stands up.

“Come on, before she starts whining for us.” She holds her hand out to me.

I take her hand and let her pull me up. There’s a short pause as that concern returns and flushes over her features again, but she just gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and following Lee.

I close my eyes, imagining all my stress falling off my skin like dripping water. When I reopen them, I feel a little more human again.

Lee has already made herself at home on my couch, her legs kicked under her ass as she fiddles with the remote for my TV.

“The movers didn’t hook anything up, so I took the liberty of doing it. You’re welcome,” she preens, flipping to one of my many streaming services.

“Thank you, Oh Goddess Lee, whatever would I do without you?”

“Why do I have such strange friends,” Sydney sighs, settling on the couch next to me.

“Stop, you love us.” I blow her a kiss.

She rolls her eyes—shealwaysrolls her eyes—and begins ripping open the takeout bags Lee brought. The smell of melted cheese and ketchup wafts around us as we settle in.

“By the way, are you guys busy Sat?” Lee reaches forward and grabs her burger, taking a large bite.

“Why?” I steal a fry from her lap.

“There’s this content creator party downtown.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Pass.”

“Aw, come on. You’re not going to make me go alone.”

Dammit. See, nowthisis why I always ended up going out. It wasn’t becauseIever wanted to but because I would never let Lee go alone. My sense of Girl Code is too strong, even if my social anxiety pulses like a beacon during a storm at the idea.

“You could always get one of the boys to go with you,” Syd offers. “I ended up having to move their streaming schedule around that day so they could have it free.”

“Why?”

“Jackson’s sister has another piano thing.”

My ears perk up, and I try to sound casual as I ask, “Where is that again?”

“The recital? Her high school, I think.”

“Back down in Oceanside?”

“Mm, yeah.” She pops a fry in her mouth, chewing on it as her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

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