Page 85 of The Fake Out

After a long moment, Chris sighed. “Why frogs?”

“Because they’re gross.”

“Alright.” He waited a beat or two. “But frogs? It seems a little irrational, doesn’t it?”

“That is the definition of a phobia.”

“It had to have started at some point.”

I huffed. “Fine. In seventh grade, we had to dissect frogs in science and one of the boys thought it would be funny to throw frog guts at me. Some of it landed in my mouth. I puked. The end.”

More silence.

“I did promise to protect you from them. I am a man of my word.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

I spent the next few minutes trying to find a comfortable position. After a while, I gave up and pretended there wasn’t a spring digging into my hip.

“Are you asleep yet?” I whispered. When he didn’t answer right away, I asked louder. “Hey, are you awake?”

He grunted. “I am now.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“It’s alright. Go ahead. Did you think of something else you’re afraid of?”

“Ha. Ha.” I pushed up and rested on my elbow, head cradled in my hand. “I really like your family.”

He said in a quiet voice, “They like you, too.”

“I’m worried about what happens when we’re done with this. It’s not just affecting us. My mom, your mom. They’ll be hurt.”

A long pause. “I know.”

“Plus I’m pretty sure your sister will put a mob hit out on me.”

“Millie?”

“Yes. She’s kind of scary.”

The bed shifted. I could just make out the shape of his face. We were only inches apart. Thanks for nothing, pool noodles.

“Sometimes I think all her medical problems make her brave in strange ways. She’s been through surgeries, weeks in the hospital at a time, close to death more than once. She’s fearless.”

“She’s going to hate me when this is all over. They all are.”

My words hung heavy in the air. I wished they weren’t true. But I’m pretty sure my fake fiancé got to keep his real family in the breakup.

“What if…” he said, his voice soft. My breath stalled when I felt his fingers move a piece of wayward hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear. His hand lingered and I had the strangest desire to lean my head into it like a cat.

I waited to see if he’d finish. I wanted him to finish. It seemed of the utmost importance that he finish, in fact. “What if what?”

The bed rocked as he moved away. “Nothing.”

“They love you a lot. Millie told me all about you paying for everyone’s college and her medical bills and the house for your parents. They’re so proud of you.”

Another long, heavy silence.