Best Served Fake

thirteen // i haven't peed in three days

"Holy shit," said Madeleine. "Holy. Shit."

I was sprawled across my bed on my back, the cool glass of my phone pressed against my cheek as Madeleine's accented curses transmitted in a flurry. Some of them incorporated creative French phrases, which sounded remarkably impressive to my untrained ear.

Madi had texted me this morning to ask if I needed a lift to school—she was heading that way anyway, she'd said, on the way to university—and I'd always carpooled with Sydney or Tommy. My car was in the shop undergoing repairs after Kai had bludgeoned her; it had been driveable, but the mechanic had advised immediate repairs. I hadn't particularly thought about the consequences of this; my usual rides were unavailable at the same time as my car.

Fortunately, Kai had offered to drive me last night. After he'd dropped me home on Sunday night—my ankle preventing me from walking—we'd exchanged a few messages, and organised an arrangement for being driven to school over the coming weeks. It would only help with our ruse, in the long run. 

When I'd told Madeleine about this arrangement, my phone immediately began buzzing with an incoming call. With a small, expectant smile, I'd answered.

"You did it? We didn't think you'd have the balls to actually fucking do it. Holy shit. That's insane. You're going out with Kai Delaney?"

"No," I said, laughing when Madeleine squawked with outrage. "Not yet, at least."

A dramatic gasp. It felt like living in a sitcom, with an audience designed to react excessively to any proclamation I made. Madeleine was certainly going above and beyond.

"What happened?" Madeleine demanded. "How was I not informed immediately?"

"I didn't get back from Kai's until after midnight," I explained.

I had no concept of where the time had gone, but after Kai and I had discussed the nuances of our plan, and my ankle had stopped throbbing enough for me to put some weight through it, the clock was already reading after twelve.

Kai was easy to talk to, and he easily derailed the conversation with a quip about my attitude or poor planning, leading to a whispered and hushed argument that ate away at the hours. He was insufferable in a way that was remarkably charming. I was grateful for the fake dating scheme, not just for the sake of revenge, but also because I was glad Cora and I wouldn't be alone. Sitting with Kai didn't seem like the worst fate.

"Get it girl," said Madeleine, impressed.

I rolled my eyes, even though Madi couldn't see the gesture. "I did not get it, I assure you. We just had to discuss how to make the fake relationship seem as natural and legitimate as possible. And this arrangement is nothing like that. There will be no getting it."

"For now," said Madeleine, with an air of superiority and knowing.

"You read too many romance novels," I said, picking at the edge of my pillowcase absently. "I have no need for another relationship. I dated Tommy for two years. Which was an epic waste of time. And we both know that falling for Kai Delaney would be an even bigger waste."

Madeleine didn't respond for a moment. Then, her French accent even more pronounced, she sniffed and said, "Stop trying to ruin my fun. The laws of romance say that you will tame the player through a fake dating scheme. It's practically fated."

"Maybe I just want to make Tommy and Sydney jealous for a few months, end the scheme and then begin going through men as if they were tissues."

Madi scoffed. "Sure. That would be awesome. I mean, its practically my lifestyle." Madeleine didn't particularly have to try to get guys to fall over themselves to fall over her. The perks of being beautiful, apparently. "But you're serially monogamous. And just think..." she sighed dreamily. "How cute it would be. It would be the most beautiful story. Cole would love this; I'll have to tell him all about it. Just think, you and Kai brush hands on a dance floor, or a masquerade ball—"