Page 25 of Faking Forever 1
“Yeah…” I mumble, “Okay, actually, I changed my mind.” I shake my head, reaching for my shirt to lift it over my head,
“Put this on.”
“Josh, I’m gonna look like a child,” she says, taking it from my hands.
“Well, tie it up or something, I dunno. Your chest is just…
they’re huge, okay? I’m sorry, but it’s distracting.” I admit, picking up my beer again.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that some idiot would try and cop a feel, and tonight was not a night I wanted to get into a fight.
“First of all, why are you looking—second, why do you care?” she says, pulling the shirt over her head and twisting it tighter around her body.
“Because. Men care. IthinkI would know.” I add in a 59
FAKING FOREVER
forward tone, staring down at her.
“There. Better?” she holds her arms out.
She’s the tiniest I’ve ever seen when she wears my clothes.
It’s fucking adorable.
“Much. Now smile, would ya?” my lips curl as I move a few strands of hair from her face.
She parts her lips into a teeth-filled smile, but a sarcastic one.
Even if it meant sacrificing my entire night, I needed Paisley to have a good time. I know how hard it was for her to convince herself it wasn’t a mistake to show up. I may not understand the logic, but I won’t question her. That’s how she feels, and I won’t invalidate it. I know that Nick has no problem doing it for me. That’s where I draw the line. As for Darcy, I can’t say I wouldn’t want to see Paisley kick her little red-headed ass.
Once a bit of time passed, Paisley wandered off to play some drinking game, which indicated that she was more comfortable and that I could go and do my own thing. Beau and I hid behind a giant rock, sucking down hits from a joint in secret. Usually, none of us would care, but now that I had a reputation to uphold, it matters that I don’t get caught doing anything ridiculous. It would be best if I just quit, the same way I quit cigarettes, but this was a habit that I knew would cause me to die on the highest hill in Jersey before quitting it.
For the past few months, I’d slowly been morphing into the
‘do-gooder’ guy who hardly did anything mischievous, which was the opposite of my previous character. It’s a good thing. Itprobably doesn’t seem like I like it too much. That’s because I don’t. I despise it. I keep trying to remind myself of the place I was in when I wasn’t in Jersey. I was pretty much forced to 60
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understand why the world does what it does and why people operate so oddly. Why smoking weed is the last thing I cling to. I’m starting to think it’s because it’s the only thing that connects me to Joshua before he dipped in politics and fake, rich laughter.
On one side of me was a curious Beau, peeking over the boulder every five seconds to stare at Sierra, even though he couldn’t have her. If you asked me, though, Sierra is only straight for Beau. No matter how badly she denies it.
“Look at her. Look at that bronze fucking skin. It’s a crime, dude.” Beau grumbles, shaking his head.
“Beau. For five minutes, man, can you stop being a creep before you blow our cover?” I say, sucking down multiple hits before holding out the joint for him.
He hops down from the smaller rock he was standing on.
“You can stare at Paisley, but I can’t stare at Sierra?” he looks taken aback.
“I don’t stare at her. I… admire. That’s different.” I respond, letting him take it, furrowing my brows as I hold back my glare.
“What are you guys doing?” a sassy voice startles me from behind.
Twisting my body around, Sierra stands there innocently.
“Nothing.” I try and beat Beau to the punch.
