The Pretend To Be Agreement

Chapter Nine

Grace

"Do you wanna go over this again?" Will ask me, glancing over quickly and then adverting his eyes back down to his suitcase. My eyebrows scrunch together as worry and curiousty runs through my veins.

He'd been like this for a while. A day and half to be exact. All closed off, not meeting my eyes, and only talking to me when it was necessary. Yesterday he had told me every word he had said at that interview was the truth -- except the dating part --, and that he meant every word. But now, somewhere deep, it feels like it was all a lie.

Hesitantly, I nod. "Sure, go ahead."

Will raises an eyebrow. " 'Sure, go ahead'? Really, Grace."

"What?" I ask defesively. It wasn't like I had done anything wrong, all I had done was agree with him.

He just shakes his head. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with, ya?"

I just nod my head, only fifty percent sure that if I talk that I'll say something I'll regret.

"So, it's agreed then? If I help you with your finanical problems, you'll pretend to be girlfriend?" He asks skeptically.

Those seventeen words coming out of his mouth for the sixth time now. It was getting annoying, that he had to keep asking like I'd forget somehow. How could I even forget? The paps had been all over us -- more like Will -- for a while now, and I don't think their going to stop any time soon. There could have been a lot more privacy if we stayed in the apartment, but since Will's mother had 'invited' us to stay at their family's cabin, I had to reshedule my appointments with clients for the weekend.

And to think I once considered the lady to be nice? I tell myself, thinking in my head before answering Will.

I give out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Yes. How many times do I have to say it?"

He rolls his eyes and says with a cocky smile, "As many times as it takes for you to mean it."

I almost choke on my spit when he says this, because my brain is going crazy at the thought of us actually being a thing. And then, you have my heart, that's telling me that I'll just end up getting hurt. It's not like I even think about us being an actual couple or anything, just that if we were, Will would be the first boyfriend I've ever had. That thought terrifyes me in more ways then one, but it also brings a heat to my cheeks.

Grace, talk! He's going to start thinking that your thinking about the possibility! I mentally slap myself for thinking of those naughty thoughts that were still floating around my brain like a butterfly.

I scuff in disgust. "I, Grace Thompson, will never mean it."

Okay, that was probably a lie, because who knows what could happen-- Oh, for Christ sakes, Grace, snap out of it!

"Never ever?"

Not daring to look him the eye when he asks that, I start stuffing random articals of clothing into my own suitcase.

"Never ever." I reply, glancing over at him from the corner of my eye and I see that he was stuffing his own belongings into his bag as he wore a sheepish grin.

Why did I agree to this again?

***

"We will be landing in ten minutes. I repeat ten minutes. So, if you could, please turn off all electronic devices. And, remeber, buckle up. Safety first!" Says a loud, muffle, chirrpy voice over the intercom of the plan.

It was obviously a woman, a flight attendant, one that sounded oddly familiar to the chick in the row behind me that just wouldn't stop talking to the person who she was seated with. I had gotten a glance of the girl when I went to the bathroom an hour ago, and let's just say reminded me of a clown -- which is probably an insult to all clowns everywhere.