Page 70 of Caught in a Bad Fauxmance
Give Devin almond oil lotion, tell him it’s sunscreen
Convince Stella to flirt with their stepbrother/bring him to our side (she tried already, didn’t work)
Try bicycling lessons again. Maybe he’ll break hisleg?
This one isn’t just loopy scrawl. New handwriting litters the page, notes in the margins and between each line(way too complicated,not bad,could you even pull this off?). Bubbly, elegant handwriting and scratch that seems almost illegible.
Stella and Henry.
I’m going to be sick. The list crumples in my closed hand as I keel over, clutching my stomach while the room starts to spin. How did I miss this? How could I not see it coming? Were there signs at all, or did I only see what I wanted to? A boy who was different from the rest of his family. A boy whowould set the past aside for me. To think, I’d let him lure me in with his honesty, and this whole time it was just an act.
I was right; he has changed. He became a better liar.
The uneasiness digs itself so deep beneath me I don’t think anything can hurt more than this does. But then I spot a new note, still tucked inside the black box.
Makes tres leches cake whenever he misses his mom
And a message in his sister’s handwriting.
this is good, look up recipe
Beneath it, the sketch I’d given him. I hold my art against my chest, willing it to become a part of me again. But it’s too late, this piece of my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore.
I’m not sure how much time passes. Seconds, maybe minutes. I can’t bring myself to look at the rest of the notes, not when I know what they all must say. Every little thing I’ve told him, all the things I’d been so impressed that he’d remembered. My mind flashes back to that night at the diner, when I’d let myself fall because he told me that I was worth remembering.
I want to throw up.
“Hey, are you…” Julian’s voice trails off the moment he steps into the doorway. He freezes in place, but I can’t bear to look up at him. My eyes stay on the tres leches note, his shadow enveloping me. “Devin…”
The way he says my name used to make me feel weightless. Tonight it makes my blood boil.
“What is this?” I ask, even though I’m sure I’ve figured it out. But I want to hear him say it himself.
“I can explain.” He kneels down beside me, covering the notes with his hands as if he can take it all back, as ifI haven’t already seen everything. “These were just stupid ideas and—”
“What? What was the plan here?” My fist clenches around the crinkled paper.
“I…I thought I could come up with something for the games…through getting to know you,” he confesses, reaching out to take my hand. I snatch it away before he can touch me. “I just…with Princeton, and Liam, and everything else with Dad, I thought maybe winning the games could be the one thing I didn’t screw up. Something Dad could be proud of…for once.”
That’s what this was all about: winning. It has been since day one. I was the only one who was too stupid to see the truth.
“Was this always your strategy? Bait me with the Liam thing, then keep me around by being nice?”
He shakes his head, looking as though he’s going to reach for me again, but keeps his distance when I retreat. “Just after you started coming over here.” His head lowers in shame. “I figured two birds, one stone.”
Everything hurts, but that stings the worst. I’d let myself think I was an endgame when I was just a means to an end.
“How much of this was lies?” I spit out through gritted teeth.
