Page 12 of Hard to Pretend

“I get it. I’d play pretend too.”

A soft bubble of laughter escaped my lips before I continued telling him about my other friends, or at least the ones most likely to be at the party. It wasn’t like he needed a full run down given that he’d be meeting them. When I finished, I tried to think of other questions to get to know him. We went over allergies (none for him, bees for me), favorite food (we both agreed that Pie in the Sky had the best pizza in King’s Bay), and favorite colors. (His was periwinkle, which I thought was so interesting. I’d never heard anyone claim periwinkle as their favorite color. I felt generic telling him my favorite color was green.)

“What’s your favorite quote?” he asked when it was his turn.

I studied him for a moment. It was a weird question, not something that most people would ask in a random conversation. “Why?” It didn’t seem like it’d be useful at the party.

“You can tell a lot about someone by their favorite quote,” he explained.

I nodded. I wasn’t sure what he could tell about me from my favorite quote, but I went with it anyway. It was an easier decision than it probably should have been. “I love myself enough to be who I am.” He looked at me curiously, his head cocked to the side. “Essex Hemphill. He was a poet and activist in DC in the ‘80s. I found his work a few years ago, and that quote stuck with me.” I breathed a deep breath, wondering what he was getting from my favorite quote. Instead of asking, I turned the question back around on him. “What’s yours?”

“Man who stand on toilet is high on pot?” He sounded sheepish. Was he kidding me? My incredulity must have been written all over his face, because he laughed. “I know. It’s nowhere near as deep as yours. I’ve just—Its always made me laugh.”

The confession brought gales of laughter from both of us. We kept going with the question and answer method of getting to know one another for awhile until he yawned. I looked at my phone and saw howlate it was getting. “I should head on out, let you get to bed.”

He nodded and stood up from the couch to walk me out.

There was a moment at the door where we both paused, unsure how to move forward with saying goodbye. Did we kiss goodbye? Hug? Shake hands? None of the above?

It turned out to be none of the above. We both looked at each other for another awkward moment, and I slipped away like a coward.

The day after I went to Seb’s was like any other day. Except I kept thinking about the way our eyes lingered at the door. I kept replaying the moment in my mind, playing out different scenarios. Some of them were innocent: a chaste kiss, lips on lips. Other ones heated up and ended up with us repeating the night we’d spent together months ago. I’d never been as distracted by a man who wasn’t physically there as I was by Seb.

Which explained how I didn’t see my brother until he was directly in front of me, waving his hand in front of my face and saying my name obnoxiously.

“What?” I snapped as I pulled myself out of my mental haze.

Joshua, my annoying older brother, looked put out by my tone. “Damn, I just wanted to say hi.” The glimmer in his dark eyes, mirrors of my own, told me that he was planning on doing more than saying hi. “What are you doing?”

I motioned around the grocery store and to the cart in front of me. I thought it was pretty obvious.

“Okay, duh.” Josh laughed that boisterous laugh of his and looked back up at me. “Planning a dinner for your newboyfriend?”

I was going to murder Mason. It was one thing for him to tell my friends about Seb. I felt bad enough lying to them. It was another thing entirely to tell my brother about my alleged relationship. “No.”

“Good. I’d really like to meet him before you kill him with your attempts at cooking.”

I wanted to pick up a can of ravioli from my cart and throw it at him. “How do you even know about Seb?”

“Mason.” Suspicions confirmed. “He couldn’t shut up about him. Apparently, he’s really hot?”

“He is.” At least that part wasn’t a lie. “But I would like to be able to tell someone myself about my relationship without Mason blabbing it all over town.”

“He thought I already knew. Ripped me a new one for not telling him.”

“Can’t you find your own friends?” I groaned. “Why do you have to be friends with all of my friends?”

“Because I’m the nicer Singh brother?” he suggested. “Or maybe because people naturally love me.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Have you told Mom?”

“No.” At least that was something.

“Good. I really don’t want her starting to plan a wedding with a guy I only just started seeing.”

This wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t planning on adding my brother to the list of people I was lying to. Damn it.

This hole kept getting deeper, and instead of climbing out of it, I just took the shovel and made it worse. Josh followed me through the store, asking questions about my relationship. I should have shut it down, but instead I answered them.

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