Page 16 of Faux Real
Oliver stiffens. “Why would youassumethis is my last resort? Maybe I just wanted a taste of the American dream.”
Brawn meet brain.
“Well, let’s see.” A knowing smile creeps up on my face as recount the facts. “You transferred to a new school for senior year whichno onedoes voluntarily unless their family relocates. Seeing as you’re living with your aunt, that means your parents aren’t in the country, which I can only assume means they forced you to move to America, probably because they got sick and tired of your shit. Am I close?”
“Maybe my parents aredead,” Oliver counters, his eyes combative. “Ever think about that? Maybe they tragically passed away in a fire and I was the sole survivor forced to leave everything I knew behind and voyage to a strange land full of crazy girls who won’t leave me alone.”
“Okay, well, Ialmostfelt bad until that last part,” I say with a smug smile. “You kind of fucked yourself with a little too much embellishment. Good try, though. Commendable effort, but I think I’m correct.”
Something unreadable briefly flashes across Oliver’s face before he leans down so that we’re eye-to-eye. “I’m going to say this one last time,” he states. “Leave me out of your idiotic games. I’m not interested. You’re on your own.”
“Fine!” I exclaim. “I don’t need you anyway. I can remedy this situation all by myself. Watch me.”
Oliver smirks. “Yeah? That’s great. I’m looking forward to seeing your great plan unfold. Maybe I’ll bring some popcorn to watch.”
I bite my lip. How in the fuck am I supposed to fix this? God, please don’t make me beg.
“Can you—” I clear my throat. “Can you just not say anything to anyone? Like if someone asks you if we’re—you know—maybe just change the subject?”
“Seeing as I don’t know anyone at this school, let alone in the entire country, that shouldn’t be a problem,” he says, his tone low, almost sad. “If people ask, why don’t you just tell them we broke up? Tell them I cheated on you or something. I don’t care. Just—” He sighs. “Do whatever you want.”
“So then I can become the girl who got cheated on after dating a guy for two days?” I ask, shaking my head. “No, that’s how rumors start. You don’t know how this school operates, Oliver.”
“Well, that’s not my problem,” he says, shrugging. “I’m sure the supposed brightest girl in our class can come up with a solution, no?”
I grumble at the absurdity of it all. Why? Why did I kiss him? What is wrong with me? Stupid. Idiot. Fucking dumbass.
“Yeah, I’ll figure it out,” I murmur. “I always do.”
“Hang in there, love,” he smirks. “I’m sure another scandal will come along shortly and outshine yours.”
“This is not ascandal,” I state. “This is merely an inconvenience.”
Lies. This is bad. I’m sure Hilton Hears will be blasting this out soon.
“Call it what you will, but you’re on your own,” he says, turning on his heel. “See ya around.”
“Yeah, I got that!” I call out after him. “Thanks for nothing, Oliver! And Iwon’tbe seeing you around!”
He pauses halfway down the hallway and cranes his neck toward me, an inquisitive glow in his eyes. “And why not?”
“Because I only take AP classes,love,” I spew. “And you’re clearlybelowaverage. So I guess I’ll see younever.”
“Well, isn’t this just the best news I’ve gotten all day?” he muses with a grin. “I’ve never been so happy to bebelow averagebefore.” He tosses me a wink, his greenish-grey eyes bright with humor. “Bye,Kenny.”
“Whatever,” I mutter under my breath before storming back to my dorm room.
The audacity of that boy! I offer him an olive branch and he snaps it in half! I get that we just met today and that he doesn’t owe me anything, but am I really asking forthatmuch? Two months of holding my hand for ten seconds every few days? A couple of staged photos for social media? Is that so hard to do?
Infuriating!
He wouldn’t be caught dating a girl like me? What am I? A fucking leper? No, I may not be as hot and ‘out there’ as Corrine and her bitchy band of bimbos, but I’m cute! I get catcalled! God, I hate him.
Is this whole situation my fault? Yes. Did I bring this on myself? Yes. But Oliver is just as guilty for not correcting Sawyer. He kindled the fire. Blew on it with his stupid British lips!
“Ayy!” Maxine sings, her legs thrown up on her desk as I enter our dorm room. “Where’ve you been, girl?”
“In fucking hell!” I slam the door shut and pounce on my bed, screaming into my satin pillow.
