The Fine Art of Pretending (32 page)

BRANDON
OAKDALE PARK, 2:58 p.m
.

My
truck rumbles as I park on the edge of the open lot and scan the huddled groups for Justin. By some miracle, our team won this afternoon’s match, even with one coach gone and the other distracted as hell. We kept our season undefeated, but my mind has one, singular thought: Find Justin and make him pay.

Through my open window, I hear Carlos cackle. I shift my gaze, then find Justin stretching in the back right corner of the field. I kill the engine, toss my keys into the ashtray, and slam the door behind me.

No one notices me stalking across the grass until I’m almost on top of him. Carlos sees me first and says something that has Justin and Drew look up, confused. When Justin’s weasel eyes meet mine, I spit on the ground, and he jumps up.

Carlos flies at me, pinning my arms behind my back. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Stay out of this, Carlos,” I warn. “This is between me and him.”

Drew grits his teeth, muscles in his jaw popping as he struggles to push Justin in the opposite direction. Justin’s hands claw his shoulder, trying to get around him.
Bring it on
. “Brandon, what the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem, Drew, is this asshole thinking he can treat girls like shit,” I say, blood roaring in my ears. “And thinking he can get away with doing it to Aly.”

“You don’t know shit about me and Aly!” Justin breaks free, and Drew grabs his shoulders again, twisting him back around. Justin curses and leans around to shout, “Or any other girl I’ve been with. Stay the fuck out of my business, Taylor.”

“Oh, I don’t know shit?” I ask, advancing steadily forward, dragging Carlos behind me. “I fucking know you played her. And that you brought your brother into it, making her think you’re the sweet, misunderstood type.” I draw a shallow, shaky breath and narrow my eyes. “And I know that you threw her away when you finished your twisted game.”

Justin’s nostrils flare. “You’re fucking jealous. If anyone threw that girl away, it was
you
.”

I growl, and Carlos pins my arms back tighter. “I saw her at the game. She was heartbroken.” My voice breaks on the last word, and my fists clench tighter, aching to hurt him like he did her. “Because of you.”

“Because of me?” Justin laughs darkly. “You’re an asshole.” He wrenches out of Drew’s grip and pushes him away. “I don’t need this shit.”

He heads for the parking lot, and I’m about to yell after him when he spins back around.

“Believe it or not, I
do
care about Aly, so here’s a little tip. The guy she’s in love with? The guy she’s so miserable about? Yeah, that would be you, dickhead.”

He spits on the ground and takes off.

My arms fall forward as Carlos drops them. “He’s my ride.”

He races after Justin, and I slump to the grass, adrenaline slamming through my body.

Could it be true? Is Aly in love with
me
?

Exhilaration and disbelief mixes in my gut, and Drew crouches down and grabs my shoulders. “Dude, stop it! Stop blowing me off. Stop pretending this is about Justin. This is about
you
. And you not admitting what’s fucking obvious to the rest of us is turning you into someone I don’t know. The Brandon I know doesn’t attack his friends.” I sneer, thinking about the kind of
friend
Justin has been, and Drew shakes his head. “Even dicks like Justin.”

My body shakes as I try and gain control of my breathing. As I come off the endorphin rush, a bit of sanity sinks in. “You’re right.” I close my eyes and throw my head back. “Dammit, I don’t know what the hell just happened.”

Drew huffs. “I do. What I wanna know is why. You gonna get real with me or what?” He relaxes his grip on my shoulders. “What’s going on with Aly? Why did you call it off if it was gonna make you act like a lunatic?”

“I didn’t,” I say, dragging my hand down my face. “She did.”

Drew’s head jerks back. “Dude, I saw her after you left the dance. Believe me when I tell you, she thinks you dumped her.”

“That’s not possible.” I kick out my legs, stretching out a cramp in my calf, and grab an unopened bottle of water. “Aly knows what went down. And I think I know when I’ve been dumped. Not that it’s ever happened before.”

He continues staring at me strangely, and Carlos jogs up. “Justin took off without me. Guess that means one of you gets the privilege of taking my ass home.” He plops down and pounds my back. “Kid, you sure know how to break up a party.” Using his shirt to wipe his face, he looks at me and then Drew. “So what’d I miss?”

Drew nods. “Brandon was just telling me Aly broke it off at the dance. Carlos, you were on the breezeway. How did you think it went down?”

“Like Aly had her heart ripped out and bitch-slapped.” We both shoot him a look, and he shrugs. “I don’t know. She looked upset, all right? Like a girl who’d been dumped. Definitely not the dumper.”

I shake my head. “Not possible. She’s obsessed with Justin, and breaking it off with me gave him an opening. Which he took,” I say through gritted teeth. “She got what she wanted.”

Drew grabs his own water and takes a long sip. Chucking the half-empty bottle on the ground, he pins me with a frustrated look. “Not to risk the wrath of Angry Brandon, but when have you ever known Justin to lie to make himself look
bad
? He just stood there in front of two other witnesses and told you he actually cared about a girl and that girl dropped him because she was in love with you.” He looks at Carlos, who nods. “At least that’s the impression I got.”

Carlos clears his throat. “And, if I may inject an opinion, I believe Señor Cranky Pants feels the same way about her.”

Drew snickers, and I reel again over the idea that Aly could be in love with me.

But I know it’s not true.

“She’s not in love with me,” I say, lying down, exhausted, on the cool grass. “She might’ve told Justin that as an excuse, but it’s not true.”

“For argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right. That still leaves you,” Drew says, watching me intently. “Are
you
in love with
her
?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t. It would be a lie. I know it and they know it. I’m not simply falling for Aly anymore—I’m in love with her. I’ve spent the last three weeks fighting it, afraid of falling in love and losing Aly. I’ve done both. I’ve lost the person I care about more than anyone in this world, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.

As if reading my thoughts, Drew says, “You need to tell Aly.”

“No, what I
need
is to get our friendship back.” Drew huffs, but I stand up, ignoring him. “Either telling Aly I love her will scare her off, or she’ll want a relationship—and you know where I stand on those. Either way I’ll lose her for real, and losing Aly would be like losing my dad all over again. I’d rather have her as a friend than nothing at all.”

Drew squints up at me. “But what if it could be more?”

I shove my hands into my pockets and shake my head. “I don’t believe in anything more.”

ALY
ALY’S HOUSE, 3:20 p.m
.

“I
got the S.O.S.,” Gabi calls, letting herself in the back door. “And I brought reinforcements.”

Plopping a stack of DVDs and a carton of ice cream down on the kitchen counter, Gabi kicks off her shoes and tiptoes to the recliner where I lie curled in the fetal position.

“Oh, this needs the heavy artillery.” She reaches in her back pocket for her cell phone and speed-dials Kara. “Hey, where you at? Good, turn around and grab a bag of Oreos, a cucumber, red nail polish, and one of those neon-green mud mask things. Yeah, it’s worse than I thought.” Disconnecting the call, she squeezes into the tiny crack between the armrest and my curled-up body. “Chica, what’s going on?”

I sigh and lift my head to rest it on her shoulder. “You were right.”

“I usually am.”

Without looking up, I know she’s smirking. Rolling my eyes, I continue. “You said Operation Sex Appeal was a stupid idea, and I should’ve listened. All that obsessing over Homecoming and where did it get me? Heartbroken and dateless, two freaking weeks before the dance.”

Gabi rocks us quietly while she absorbs the information. “I take it you saw Justin last night.”

“Saw him, stomped on his heart, broke up with him, and cried my eyes out.”

“Hmm.” I crane my neck and take in Gabi’s scrunched-up mouth and forehead. She meets my eyes and shrugs. “I don’t get it. Wasn’t all this about Homecoming? And getting a guy? You had both, you rejected both, and you’re miserable. What the hell, Aly?”

“I know!” Groaning, I tuck my knees tighter into my chest. “I just couldn’t do it, Gab. You should’ve heard the stuff he was saying—he’s amazing. He asked me to be his girlfriend and asked me to Homecoming…” I trail off, laughing at my wonderfully horrible situation before sighing and throwing myself against Gabi’s side again.

“Wow. That sucks. I hate it when hot, popular guys do that stuff to me.” Scowling at her sarcasm, I kick my foot against the coffee table, flinging our chair back. Gabi shakes her head. “I mean, asking you to be his girlfriend? Sounds like he deserved to be kicked to the curb. Girl power.”

I uncross my arms to jab her in the side. “I’m sorry, I think your agenda’s confused. Last night was self-loathing. Today is pity. And empathy, which seems to be in short supply everywhere I go.” I sigh, shaking my head and remembering my conversation with Brandon. “Now kindly stick to the program or leave. I can berate myself quite thoroughly on my own.”

Gabi chuckles, then wraps her arms around me and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Believe me, I pity you.” I jab her again, and she laughs. “Okay, so Justin’s out. Does that mean Operation Sex Appeal’s out, too?”

Yes. No. Ugh!

Am I really thinking of calling the whole thing off two weeks before Homecoming? Granted, it’s been a complete and utter disaster, but why give up now?
It’s not like I have anything left to lose
, I think sarcastically, falling back into the self-loathing itinerary of last night.

I shake my head and frown. “No. A good soldier never gives up, right? Until I show up at that dance with a non-friend date on my arm, the mission must go on.” Blinking my burning eyes, I exhale forcefully. “Change the subject. Please. Anything but Homecoming, Justin, Brandon, or sex appeal.”