The Art of Still Pretending

Twenty Seven

Jake POV.
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This whole boy trip to the store? Not fun at the slightest.

Gray and I haven't talked at all. Poor Drew is trying to stay in the middle. "I can't wait until Natalie gets back." That was Blake. He's been going on, and on about how he misses her.

"She will be back tomorrow." I say to him for the hundredth time. "And you've been talking to her everyday. I'm starting to think you're obsessed with her." I joke.

"Oh, I am. I'm obsessed with everything about her. The conversations we have, her voice, her laugh, the sex. I'm definitely obsessed with the sex."

I laugh at that. We all decided to walk to the store, since it was only a seven minute walk. Now we are walking back. Blake turns to me and whispers, or at least tries to. I swear this guys doesn't know how to whisper. "Any sex with Blair?"

Not only does Grayson turn around, so does Drew and Noah. I scratch my neck nervously. The answer is no, but I didn't want to talk about my sex like, or lack of.

"I...umm. I'll talk to you about it later."

"Have they had sex?" I hear Grayson whisper angrily to Noah. Noah just looks back and shrugs. I feel bad for him, he's been dragged into this whole thing. With Blake it's easy, he's obviously on my side.

Drew...does Drew get his own side? I honestly don't know anymore.

But Noah is stuck in the middle, not knowing what to say, who to talk to, where to walk. I actually had a talk with him last night about it. I could tell he was stressed, wouldn't even go near me or Gray. Probably worried the other would get mad.

I told him to be closer to Gray this trip. Since I had Blake, I felt bad Grayson had no one.

I can hear the music coming from the kitchen, when we walk into the house. I look at Blake confused, he just shrugs.

It sounds like the girls are having a party, or a karaoke night. We walk into the kitchen, and are greeted with quite a sight.

There, standing on the counters, are the girls singing covered in...flour and eggs?

I smile when I look at her. Her sun kissed legs covered in flour, and her long blonde hair drenched in egg.

She was smiling, an actual smile. Not the fake bullshit one she's been giving recently. Not the fake ones, I pretended we're real. The ones I caused her to have. She looks beautiful.

Maybe I'm not the guy for her.

I want to be, and fuck how I tried to be. I look towards my left, at him. He's giving her the same look I imagine I am. I hate to say it, but maybe he did love her.

Maybe he is it for her, and maybe I need to let her go.

Because she's smiling, her actual smile. So I'm smiling too, happy to just be lucky enough to witness the natural phenomenon her smile is.

So maybe I should let her go. Or maybe she didn't have to pick at all, she  didn't have to pick between us. Maybe I didn't want her to, maybe she could love us both.

Because maybe I just don't want to risk losing her.

So many fucking maybes in the world.
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