Page 27 of Caught in a Bad Fauxmance
“What’re you doing?” He looks at me in the rearview mirror.
“Changing,” I reply as I start unbuttoning my top. “Eyes that way—this show costs extra.”
Julian’s cheeks flush as he averts his gaze. “And why are you changing?”
“Because I haven’t told my family that I sold my soul to the devil, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Julian taps his thumb against the steering wheel as he pulls out of the lot. “Are you going to tell them anything?”
I stay quiet and focus on changing. It’s harder to take your pants off in the back of a sedan than it is in an SUV. It gives me time to mull over how to respond, whether I should tell him that Maya knows or keep that to myself. Barely twenty-four hours into this plan and I already can’t keep up with mylies.
“Maybe.” A diplomatic enough answer, but I change the topic before he can press further. “So, your dad really likes Liam. A lot more than he likes me at least.”
Switching topics does the trick. Julian lets out a hollow sigh, sagging against the steering wheel. “Yeah…” He shakes his head, letting his eyes close while we idle at a red light. “Liam doesn’t come around to our side of the lake much, but Dad’s always excited when he does. I think he was hoping one of us would wind up with him. Especially with the water park stuff. The amount of money amusement parks can make in a single hour…” He shudders. “Dad’s been trying to get in good with the Alleghenys since they moved here. So me and Liam just…made sense, I guess. For business.”
It does. One obnoxious rich boy dates another obnoxious rich boy, and the King of the (Stolen) Idea Empire gets the chance to add another zero to his back account.
“Until it didn’t?” I ask when the car starts moving again.
Julian takes his time replying, his brows furrowed and his jaw locked. If I wasn’t so occupied with getting dressed, I might even apologize for prying.
“I don’t think it ever really did,” he says finally.
His reply makes me think back to that afternoon at Dixon’s. The way he’d had that same look of frustration.That’s something I want to change,he’d said—listening to his dad. Maybe ending things with Liam was the first step.
After a prolonged silence, Julian’s eyes flicker to the rearview mirror again, catching me the exact moment I finish unbuttoning my shirt. “Hey, I said no peeking!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he says in one quick breath, knuckles going white around the steering wheel.
Getting caught peeping shuts Julian up. He keeps his eyes on the road while I finish pulling on my T-shirt and paint-stained jeans. Changing out of my boyfriend costume doesn’t settle the unease that’s still clinging to me, though.
“I screwed up, didn’t I?” I say once I’ve finished changing, unable to shake off my curiosity. “Asking about your mom?”
Julian sighs, running a hand over his face, massaging the sharp edge of his jaw. “No, you didn’t. It’s a recent thing; there’s no way you could’ve known.” His voice is gentle, kind. Soft in a way that actually makes me feel less guilty.
“Is your mom sick?” It’s strange being on the opposite end of that familiar question. Asking feels almost as hard as answering had been.
But Julian doesn’t answer the way I always did. His eyes don’t go misty, and his body doesn’t tense up over words he’s said thousands of times but that still don’t feel real. He just shakes his head and sighs.
“Our parents are getting divorced.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice as hollow as my answer.
Still, a small part of me can’t help but feel vindicated on Mrs. Seo’s behalf. We loathed the Seo-Cookes as a whole, but their mom never took cheap shots at us. She was sweet, even. One year, she dropped off those snack cakes we loved after she overheard Maya talking about how much we missed them. When the box showed up on our doorstep, we assumed she’d finally joined the rest of her family in the war against us. A trap we never would’ve expected. So they sat unopened on the kitchen table until we tossed them in the trash.
Maybe she was never a player in our game.
Julian doesn’t reply, and I’m grateful for it. We may be fake boyfriends, but that doesn’t mean we need to have therapeutic heart-to-hearts about our family traumas. We keep to ourselves for the remainder of the short drive back, Julian parking a few feet away from my driveaway, at my insistence. The headlights switch off, and we’re swallowed by the darkness. The world beyond the windshield is almost pitch-black, the lights from my cabin barely visible through the trees. My breath hitches at the sound of Julian shifting in his seat. On instinct, I prepare myself for some kind of attack. He’s got me exactly where he wants me: alone and defenseless in the dark.
“Thank you again. For everything,” he says, his voice as soft and warm as the breeze coming through the window. “I know this was really weird and awkward, but…thank you.”
I hesitate for another second, clutching my backpack so tightly my shoulders start to tremble. There’s still no knife in my back, and as my eyes adjust to the dark, his shy smile comes into view.
“Y-yeah. Sure.”
If I were a better person, I’d tell him I was sorry. Not because I did anything wrong, but because I can finally see what a shitty situation he’s in. I’m sure Julian’s dad had more sway in his decision to start seeing Liam than he’s willing to tell me. Mr. Cooke is overbearing even with people who aren’t related to him. Living under the same roof must feel like a prison. A well-decorated prison, but still.
