Page 15 of Faux Real
“And why is that? Do you suddenly have a soft spot for the new student?” I smirk.
Kennedy hums, almost as if she’s having an internal conversation with herself. “No, I still find you quite annoying, Oliver,” she says. “But I do have a proposition for you.”
I raise a curious brow. “A proposition?” What is going on in that head of hers? “What sort of proposition?”
A knowing smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “One that I think will be mutually beneficial.”
I take a step backward away from Kennedy. She’s suddenly gotten quite creepy. “I don’t think I like where you’re doing with this...”
“Before you say no, at least hear me out.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side, and smirking cunningly. “Boyfriend.”
six
An Error in Judgment
KENNEDY
IfearImayhave greatly overestimated thebrillianceof my proposition because Oliver is staring at me like I just suggested we pillage a small rural town for the last of their monthly rations.
Perhaps I jumped the gun just a smidgen but objectively speaking, pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend would be mutually beneficial, thus the idea deserves to be discussed. Due to the fact that British-boy didn’t correct Sawyer when he implied that we were an item, I am now stuck between a rock and a hard place.
The rock is being called a liar by the entire student population because by the time lunch rolls around, I’m sure Sawyer will mention my ‘new’ relationship to Corn-on-the-Cob who will then spread the news across campus like wildfire.
Oliver is the hard place. Do I want people to think that my standards aresolow that I’d date a guy who doesn’t tuck in his shirt andclearlydoesn’t own a hairbrush? No, no I don’t. But I also don’t want to get caught in a lie. With so many children of well-connected families attending Hilton, the news of my deception could easily reach the wrong people andseverelyimpact my future. I can’t have that. Ialsocan’t have Sawyer thinking I lied just to save face, which I did, but he doesn’t need to know that.
So I say again, this time, more confident and assured, “Oliver? Did you hear me? What do you think?”
Oliver blinks, his eyes scanning my face, almost as if he’s waiting for me to say just kidding. “You really are fucking mental, aren’t you?” Oliver asks, cocking his head to the side. “Why in the fuck would I want to dateyou?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes at his clear misinterpretation of my idea. “We wouldn’t be dating for real,Oliver,” I explain slowly, ensuring that I enunciate. How in theworlddid he get admission into Hilton if he can’t understand simple English? “We would justpretendto date. Just for a little while so that Sawyer doesn’t think we made shit up. Then we can break up. Publicly.”
Oliver narrows his eyes. “Did you bash your head on something this morning?” he asks. “Perhaps your parents dropped you as a small child?”
“No,” I state, crossing my arms defensively. “Why?”
“Because that’s got to be the most ludicrous idea I’ve ever heard,pretending to date? Christ, you must watch far too much TV,” he notes, shaking his head in disbelief. “You need help, love. Maybe it’s time to pop into that guidance counselor’s office for a little one-on-one, make sure that everything is working properly— ” He pokes my head. “Up here.”
I swat his hand away, grinding my teeth. “This arrangement would also benefityou,” I state. “Something tells me you’re not one for following rules, and at Hilton, if youdon’tfollow the rules, you get expelled. As an SLO,Ican prevent that from happening.” I pause, pursing my lips. “Unless you don’t give a shit about your future.”
“You have got to be the most backward girl I’ve met in my whole life.” Oliver lets out an incredulous chuckle. “You seem to be quite a stickler for therules, yet you’re willing to break them in order to notlook bad? It’s nice to see that you follow your own moral compass rather than theone set forth by the Academy, as you put it earlier. A bit of a hypocrite, aren’t we?”
My jaw drops. “I amnota hypocrite!” I insist, my blood thrumming with irritation. “I am just trying to solve a problem in the most logical and fool-proof way possible.”
“A problem which you, yourself created,” Oliver retorts, leaning against the day-lockers, a smug look on his pompous face. “I don’t see howyourproblem has anything to do with me,at all.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I refuse to be rattled by this inbred’s annoying, yet frustratingly accurate, observation. “So you’re telling me that you, Oliver Knight, plan to stay out of trouble this whole year? That you don’t plan on breakinganyrules? You’re not going to ride your motorcycle on school grounds? Sneak out? Have a little drink in your room? None of that? Hmm?”
Oliver shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Nope,” he says, his tone oozing with sarcasm. “I plan on being on mybestbehavior. I promised my sweetcaringaunt Bessie that I would be agood boythis year. And I plan to stick to my word.”
“You are so full of shit,” I say, exasperated by his laissez-faire attitude. “Why are you so reluctant to agree? It’s a good idea! I’ll make sure you don’t get a single blue slipall yearif you do this for afew months. A few months, Oliver, for an entire year of freedom. It’s a no-brainer.”
Oliver leans down toward me, an annoying smirk on his face. “Listen, love,” he whispers. “I don’t need your help, alright? I don’tdofavors and I sure as fuck don’t date pretentious snobs like yourself.” He straightens out his shoulders as he begins to walk away. “But good luck with everything,Kennedy. Looks like you’ll need it.”
“More like you’ll need it.” I whip my head around and scowl at Dirty-boy as I catch up to him, yanking his arm so that he’s facing me. “You are making agravemistake,” I state sternly. “I am going to watch you like a fucking hawk, Oliver. You so much as miss curfew by aminute, I’m writing you up. You forget to recycle? I’m writing you up. You sneeze in the quiet zone of the library—”
“You’ll write me up?” Oliver snorts, pulling his arm out of my grip. “Yes, I got that. You were beginning to get a little repetitive there, love. Must be the head trauma, yeah?”
I roll my eyes. “The only person with head trauma here isyou,” I say, shooting daggers. “What are you going to do when you get expelled, Oliver? Hmm? Find another school? I can’t evenbeginto imagine what your permanent record looks like. Can you evengetinto another school? Or is Hilton your last resort?”
