Page 19 of Faking It with the Forward

OneFive: Shanna stopped texting me.

InternTwy: Oh, well good, I guess.

OneFive: But now my roommates are asking what’s up with us.

InternTwy: Tell them the truth. That you assaulted me. Again.

OneFive: I could just tell them the actual truth, that you were being a supportive friend and were happy to help me with my ex-girlfriend worries.

InternTwy: “Friend” feels like a stretch here.

OneFive: Ouch… although there’s something else we can do.

InternTwy: What do you want, Cain?

Her impatience amuses me, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing right now. And, what she’s wearing. I smirk. I already know the answer. That ratty worn-out hoodie and shorts.

Shit, did my dick just twitch at the thought of peeling that hoodie off her body?

OneFive: I was thinking maybe we could tell them what we told her, that you’re my girlfriend.

InternTwy: ….

Lying in bed, I stare at the line of bubbles as they fluctuate, waiting for her response to come through. Except they vanish. Shit. I scared her off. Twenty-minutes later, when I know for certain she’s not going to reply, I video call her.

“Hey,” I sit up when her face appears on screen, “Don’t hang up.”

“I should,” she says warily, which is fair after what I proposed.

Her hair is back in a ponytail, but it’s messy, hair loose and curled around her face. At the bottom of the screen, I spot the top of that royal blue hoodie. Called that at least.

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“You have three minutes before my microwave popcorn is ready and the next episode of ‘I Survived a Cult’ starts.”

That answers the question about what she's doing.

“You actually watch that garbage?”

The camera swings to the microwave where the timer is counting down: 2:43. “You’re wasting time.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath, feeling a little dumb now that I’m facing her. “I’d like you to consider being my girlfriend.” She opens her mouth to argue and I continue, “Not a real girlfriend, but just… we can pretend for a while. Just until the season gets going. Shanna needs to understand this is over.”

“Thanks for the offer, Cain, but I’m a hard pass.”

“What?” Honestly, I’m reeling a little bit. “There are a dozen–no, two dozen–girls on campus that would be thrilled to get this offer. You didn’t even consider it!”

“Reese, even if I wanted to help you out, which I don’t, you made it perfectly clear today that I am super awkward around guys and I don’t see how that will help you.” Her eyes narrow. “I know you’re not this desperate.”

“Hey, you’re the one that sent out that photo. People are asking questions. Shanna thinks we’re dating. The only way she’s going to buy it is if we play along for a while.”

In the background I hear a buzzer going off. Shit, I’m running out of time.

“Seriously, Twyler. I need to get her off my back. She’s toxic and bad for my mental health.” I take a deep breath and confess something I’ve never told anyone, not even my parents. “When we were dating, she fucked with my head. There were some ultimatums, and she didn’t like my answer.” On screen Twyler watches me closely. “I just want the team to have a kick-ass season. I want to help them win it all and make up for screwing up last year.”

“You didn’t single-handedly lose that game, Reese.”

“Maybe not, but I was distracted and dealing with personal drama and wasn’t giving it my full attention. I vow not to do that again.”

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