Page 57 of Play Fake
All I can picture is Beck’s pale face with his hood pulled low, and the promise he made before walking away.
My phone buzzes in my lap, and my heart leaps before I even look.
Beck: made it.
The knot in my chest eases, and I bite back a smile as I type back quickly, thumbs flying.
Good. Thanks for proving me right.
It takes less than a minute for the dots to appear.
Beck: about what?
That you’d listen to me.
There’s a pause, then another reply:
Beck: don’t get used to it.
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh out loud in the middle of class. My professor is sketching something on the board, but I’m too busy staring at my phone screen.
I’ll take my wins where I can get them.
Three dots.
Beck: now that you know I’m fine, pay attention. don’t want you harming that GPA of yours worrying over me.
My cheeks warm as I lock my phone and force myself to focus on the lecture. But the notes on the board blur, and all I can think is?—
I like this.
I like that he texted.
And I really, really like that I’m starting to care.
19
SOPHIE
Ava is sprawled across my narrow dorm bed like she owns the place, one hand absently scratching behind Snickers’ ears. My cat’s purring like a motorboat, legs stretched out like she hasn’t a care in the world.
“I still don’t get how you managed this,” Ava says, flicking her gaze from the cat to me as I swipe mascara over my lashes in the mirror. “Pets aren’t allowed in dorms. Yet, here you are with a full-time furry roommate.”
“Correction,” I say, leaning closer to fix a smudge. “Emotional support animal. Totally different.”
Ava snorts. “Yeah, but how did you talk the housing office into actually approving it? I couldn’t even get them to fix my leaky shower head.”
I grin at her reflection, setting my mascara down. “Snickers is special. She keeps me grounded. And technically, they couldn’t say no once I submitted the paperwork. Federal law and all that.”
Ava stretches, rubbing Snickers’ belly as her paws twitch happily. “Well, I guess she’s the most spoiled ESA on campus. Do you think she even knows you pay tuition to keep her here?”
I laugh, tugging my cheer bow into place. “She knows she runs the place. That’s enough.”
“True,” Ava says, settling back into the pillows like she might nap. “Meanwhile, I’m still single and pet-less. At least one of us has unconditional love.”
I roll my eyes but my heart squeezes a little, watching her play with her so easily. Snickers has been my constant since freshman year, padding across textbooks, curling up against me on nights when the world feels too heavy. She’s more than a cat. She’s home.
And right now, home feels good.
