Page 32 of The Fake Out

I was halfway there when he called out, “See you later, Maebe-Baby.”

Later, much later, hours in fact, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning because I couldn’t get comfortable. I punched my pillow, kicked the blankets off, and annoyed Kevin so much he moved off the bed to my laundry basket.

I had cuddled with Chris. Cuddled. It wasn’t my fault. It didn’t count because I was sleeping. It was gravity, really. That’s right. It hadn’t been purposeful cuddling. Accidental cuddling meant nothing. There, see?

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face. Cuddles aside, Chris was a puzzle I couldn’t figure out.

At first, he’d seemed like any other pretty boy I’d had an acquaintance with—flirty, a little arrogant, used to getting his way with a smile. But his actions were an entirely different story. There was a solidness to him, not physically—although, yes, that was also solid—but a solidness of character; he’d shown himself to be thoughtful, understanding, trustworthy. This, more than big, strong muscles or twinkly eyes, was scarily attractive.

In all, it was hard not to like the guy. As a friend. Only as a friend. There was no room in my life for any other messy feelings.

After another twenty sleepless minutes, I tossed the covers off and stomped (but not too loudly as to wake up anyone) into the kitchen for a glass of water and promised myself I would not think about What’s His Name again. Good plan, Mae.

Under the soft glow of the light above the stove, I leaned against the counter, taking sips of water. That was when I noticed it: the dishwasher.

Someone had fixed it.

TWELVE

I wish I could be your derivative, so I could lie tangent to your curves.

—MARIA S.

From: Peter Stone

To: Maebell Sampson

Subject: Cease and Desist

Maebell,

It appears someone has signed me up to receive a subscription to a magazine called Girls and Corpses and then had it delivered to my office. It scared Maria half to death when she opened it.

Tell Alicia Ramos to knock it off.

Peter

Ali got points for creativity. I pulled out my cell phone and shot off a text.

Me: Girls and Corpses?

Ali: Hey, it wasn’t a glitter bomb. I think I showed real restraint.

Me: I’m supposed to tell you to stop.

Ali: Duly noted and ignored.

Me: You’re a good friend.

Ali: I know.

I set my phone down and unlocked the library door for the morning crowd. By the time I returned, I had another text.

Ali: Did you see this?

The link she’d added was to a gossip site called Let Me Spill the Tea. The post at the top caught my eye immediately.

Oklahoma Stars’ Chris Sterns’ Vegas Birthday with a Special Guest