Page 89 of Faux Real
“Maybe,” I repeat myself, ducking under his arm toward the sinks. I grab my phone off the counter, turning around. “After exams are done. When we’re both dry and umm sober.”
Both of us. Sober.
“Fine,” Oliver sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. “Come to my show on the 19th then, yeah? We made the finals. We cantalkthen.”
“You made the finals!” I exclaim. “That’s awesome, Ollie, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“You’re a very busy girl, Kennedy,” he says with a shrug. “It’s hard to find you sometimes.”
“Should I wear a reflective vest for your benefit?” I joke, leaning against the sink. “Would that help?”
“Yes.” A gentle smile spreads across his face. “That would be much appreciated.”
“Noted,” I say, concealing a grin as I check the time. Crap. “We should go now; you need to sleep, and I need to study.”
“Maybe I’ll study too,” Ollie says nonchalantly. “Just for a bit.”
“I think Satan just did a Triple Axel,” I mutter under my breath as we awkwardly head to the door.
“What?” Ollie asks.
“Nothing—” I gasp, covering my eyes as the bathroom room opens and Cliff saunters inside with only a tiny towel wrapped around his hips. “Oh my God!”
“Uh—” Cliff stammers. “Isn’t this the—”
“Sure is, mate,” Oliver laughs, patting Cliff on the back. “Enjoy. The showers here aregreat.”
“Okay, bye,” I squeak, my cheeks burning up as I sheepishly smile at Clifford. “Uh—Oliver, I’ll umm... see you at the show, okay?”
Oliver smirks, a devious glimmer in his eyes. “Can’t wait. I think you’llloveour set.”
“Wait, why are you both wet?” Clifford frowns, scanning the two of us. “And... fully clothed?”
“The uh—pipes burst,” I whimper, cringing.
“Oh,” Cliff hums, looking around the stalls. “I don’t see—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ollie says, placing his hand on the small of my back as he nudges me out of the bathroom. “We fixed it.”
“But—”
The door closes behind us. Oh, thank God.
“Good luck on your exams, Kennedy,” Oliver says. “Not that you need luck.”
“Thanks,” I say, fiddling with my phone. “You too.”
I might not need luck, but fortune favors the bold. Maybe I can be bold.
Maybe.
twenty-seven
The Rain is Gone
OLIVER
Oasisblares through my headphones as I tap my pen against my history textbook, ingraining the beat into my brain. I can’t believe the lads agreed to this, I was sure they’d think it was too mellow, and quite frankly a tad cheesy to perform at Battle of the Bands. And if I’m being honest,Ican’t believe I even suggested it. But it’s her favorite. It’s her song. And I know she’ll lose her shit when she hears us playing it.
