Page 17 of Faux Real
“Uh—” Max stammers as I prop myself up and sit cross-legged. “Care to explain that?”
“No,” I state in a huff. “Why are you even here? I thought you got detention?”
Max shrugs. “Rothy decided to give me and Corn a warning and let us go. Apparently, he’s grown soft this summer and I plan to take heavy advantage.”
I frown. Great, this means Sawyer and Corrine are probably gossiping about me as we speak. “This is the worst day ever, Max. Ever. In the history of days, this one is the worst.”
“Or it’s the best day ‘cause you got to lock lips with a hot piece of ass," Max muses, wiggling her eyebrows. “Oliver is smokin’. Does he taste good? Like an ashtray? He looks like he smokes.”
“Ew,” I cringe. “He’s not a hot piece of ass, Max. He’s just an ass.” I pause and mutter under my breath. “A useless ass that won’t help me.”
“Help you with what?” Max asks, jumping on my bed, staring at me with eager eyes. “With what? With what?”
Ugh. Fucking sonic hearing over here. I give Max the play-by-play of our encounter with Sawyer, emphasizing that Oliver went along with my charade until push came to shove.
“Oh, shit, dude,” Max says, scratching her head. “That’s awks as fuck.”
“Uh—yeah, it is,” I say, reaching for my phone and pulling up the Hilton Hears app, dreading the latest update. The fact that the administrators can’t shut down an app that posts recent school gossip just goes to show how grossly incompetent this entire institution is.
“Anything new?” Max asks, peering over at my screen. “The last update was about Zeek.”
I bite my lip as the screen loads.
We hear that: Ezekiel Jones had to go on a payment plan for tuition. It must be so hard being broke now. Maybe he can sell some of his Jordans. Or sell something else...
“Who runs this shit?” I mutter, scrolling to the next update.
No...
We hear that: golden girl Kennedy Carmichael has found herself a new beau. Only two months after getting her stone-cold heart broken by one of Hilton’s finest, Ken-Ken is apparently ready for a British Invasion. What’s that sound? Oh, it’s a cherry popping.
My heart hammers in my chest as I reread the update. “Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes welling up. “Max...”
The last time my name was on this app, I was fifteen and being called a thief. For the longest time, I thought it was Corrine who managed the app, but that was before they posted about her sleeping with two guys in one night. I don’t think she’d do that to herself.
Whoeverisin charge has just single-handedly fucked up my whole life. Or I did by being a jealous, spiteful moron. Maybe Oliver was right, maybe I should go talk to Mrs. Quinn. I clearly need help.
“It’s okay! We’ll figure something out,” Maxine reassures, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Just don’t freak out.”
“Everyone is going to see this, Max!” I groan. “And when they find out that we’re not actually dating, it’s going to get worse. Either I’ll get called a slut for making out with a guy I barely know, or they’ll call me an attention whore for lying. There’s no winning here.”
“Or maybe no one will care,” Maxine offers softly. “Maybe no one—”
“Max,” I say, taking a deep breath. “This is Hilton. Everyone cares. Everyone.”
“So, what’re you going to do?”
My eyes dart toward the pile of textbooks on my desk. “I’m going to study before classes start in two days and my life falls apart. There’s nothing else I can do.”
There’s no point in crying or dwelling. It is what it is. I’ll just keep going about my day as if nothing happened. As if I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my young life. It’s okay.
“Ken...maybe you should just take a couple of days to relax.”
“No,” I say, walking over to my desk and taking a seat. I pull out the bottom drawer and count the tablets. Shit. Only ten left. “Max?”
“Yeah?”
“When’s your next refill?”
