Page 54 of The Hookup Situation

He looks so stressed, and I hate it. I wish I knew why it was so important to him that no one finds out about us. Us just being fuck buddies isn’t convincing me.

“No. That might look even weirder if someone noticed, like we’re trying to hide something. Let’s just go and hope it doesn’t blow up in our faces.”

We make our way inside and up the stairs. “Look, if anyone asks, we just ran into each other on the way up, okay?” he says, and I nod.

Rory opens the door when we knock and gives Jackson a big hug, his smile wide. “Come in,” he says, “I’m so glad you’re here. Did you two come together?”

“We ran into each other in the hallway,” we both say at the exact same time, and he looks from me to Jackson, blinking.

“Oh, well, there’s lots of yummy snacks in the kitchen, and drinks. Parker made his famous chocolate chip cookies, but you better hurry because I think Lucy is eating them by the handful.”

Jackson gives his friend a smile and heads further into the house. And I guess this is where we pretend like we don’t know each other, or at least not very well.

I say hi to Parker and Chris, who is also here, of course. There’s several people I don’t recognize, some that are friends of Rory’s I’m sure, and probably a few of Parker’s friends I haven’t met, along with Blake and his girlfriend, Sarah.

I move into the kitchen to get some snacks because I’m fucking starving, and when I make my way back out to the living area, plate piled high with sweets, chips, and cheese and crackers, Jackson is talking to Parker. I assume they've met before since Jackson is Rory's best friend. Whatever Parker istelling him is making him laugh, and though I try my best not to, I can’t stop watching him.

I talk with Chris, and Blake, and Parker, and introduce myself to Lucy, telling her I’m a friend of Parker’s and asking how she knows Rory, because letting her know I’ve seen her around with Jackson would be giving too much away. But no matter where I am in the apartment and who I’m talking to, my eyes keep straying, tracking Jackson every time he moves. It’s like he’s a fucking beacon.

When my phone buzzes I look at it and see it's a text from Jackson.

Tinkerbell: You’re staring at me. Knock it off. This isn’t working.

Me: I’m sorry, I’m trying

Tinkerbell: Try harder

I sigh and shove my phone back in my pocket.

When a crowd gathers around the television for aMario Kartcompetition, Jackson ends up next to me, and before I realize what I’m doing my fingers are brushing his arm. The next thing I know he’s gone and I’m getting another text.

Tinkerbell: Meet me in the bathroom

Fuck. I have a feeling this isn’t so he can fuck me. I’m screwing up and I know it. I just don’t know how to pretend like he doesn't exist when he’s right here.

When I reach the bathroom I knock and say his name. The door swings open and he pulls me in.

“What the hell was that?” he snaps. “What does not wanting people to know mean to you?”

“I’m doing the best I can,” I retort. “I’m not used to this, having to hide.”

“We agreed we’d keep it a secret.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just. It’s hard, okay?”

“Look, this is why I didn’t want to come. It was risky enough showing up here together, and I don’t think Lucy and Rory bought for a second that we ran into each other on the way up. You can’t be touching me, or fucking looking at me like that, not here. Not in front of them. Or they’ll definitely know something is up.”

“It would have been riskier to both not come,” I point out. “How do you think that would look? I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal anyway, if they know.” I’m trying to keep the hurt out of my voice but failing miserably. I don’t want to hide him and I don’t want him to hide me.

“Because we agreed it would just be casual. Hooking up. That’s it. I don’t need it announced.”

He told me at the diner that it was just something he needed. For reasons he’s clearly not ready to explain. I believe him. But how much longer will it be this way? How long do we pretend and sneak around and lie? I want to be able to talk to his friends as his friend, or lover, or boyfriend, or whatever and not be in a crowd of people trying not to look at him, having to watch my eyes, and words, and hands, to make sure I don’t slip up.

And he’s never talked to me like this before, or looked at me like this. Like I fucking betrayed him by wanting to be near him. I don’t know what hurts more, that it upsets him so much, or that he doesn't seem to be having nearly as difficult of a time not looking at or touching me.

“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll leave. That will make it easier. Then you can enjoy the evening without worrying about me.” I open the door and walk out, heading down the hall.

“Preston, wait, I didn’t….” I hear Jackson coming after me. I make my way through the living room and the throngs of people, the large crowd still gathered around the television, and find my coat and shoes by the front door.

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