Best Served Fake

twenty-nine // how dare he

"He's such an ass. He can't just say 'I love you, Valerie, I'll wait forever' when he fucked my best friend and took a mega-hot mega-rich giant on a date at my work. And then accuse me of kissing you because he kissed Sydney, which like, was maybe true, but how does he have the fucking audacity to say so. How does anyone have balls that fucking big to think that is even in the realm of acceptable behaviour? I'm not saying I'm the epitome of the moral high ground, but he isn't even at sea level for high ground. He's in hell. That is where he sits in terms of morality. Maybe not the lowest circle of hell, because that is reserved for murderers and pedophiles and anyone who still wears crocs, but still pretty firmly somewhere that means he has no fucking right to lecture me about anything, ever. He basically told me to grow up, which is funny, because he is an ass who should know he doesn't deserve a fucking opinion!"

So, at the restaurant, I may have been zen. Well-adjusted. Slightly sad, but not really angry. I thought anger had deserted me. I thought I was some higher enlightened being who could teach classes on how to master in peace. Maybe open a yoga studio.

With the way Will and Kai are staring at me, after I burst through Kai's bedroom door without a greeting, like I grew a second head and announced I'd had a quick tumble with Shrek, I clearly was not exuding chill and calming vibes anymore.

"Good evening, Valerie," said Will politely, his legs thrown across the top of Kai's duvet, a remote control in hand. "And how was your day? I had a really nice burrito for lunch, personally."

Kai grinned at his friend. He was sitting on the bed beside him, his legs folded and his knee against Will's hip. "Hi, Little Valerie. You look cute in your waitressing outfit." Will rolled his eyes. Kai patted the sliver of space next to him. "Come sit, tell us about your troubles."

My troubles? After Lena had left the restaurant, her words mingling with Tommy's, I realised I couldn't be sad. Tommy had basically accused me of copying him, doing exactly what he had done to me in return. Kai and I had a plan; a kiss at a party, a little public, flirting at school, and then a very public date. That would look like copying; that was so clearly copying that Tommy would lose all respect for the legitimacy of my relationship with Kai.

I had to talk to Kai; we had to change the plan. I had wreak emotional destruction on my ex-boyfriend. Because fuck him.

I obligingly took the tiny space beside Kai, kicking off my shoes and tangling my legs with his, so that I didn't fall off the bed. I liked the feeling of his body against me. He was warm, and lean, and even though Will was here, and there was no reason for it, because Tommy and Sydney would never know, I kind of wanted to nibble on the juncture between his neck and the slope of his shoulder.

Kai stroked my leg absently. It made me shiver through the black pants of my work uniform. "What happened?"

"Are you guys playing Wii Sports?"

On the screen, two Mii's were shifting their weight from foot to foot with tennis racquets in hand.

Will held up his controller. "Yep. Seb is convinced he is the greatest player of all time, so we're training to beat him." He looked mournfully at the controller. "Unfortunately, I suck."

"I'm the best of all time, so I can smoke Seb if you need," Isabelle called through the wall near Will. I looked at the peeling plaster dividing Kai's bedroom from Isabelle's. Her voice rang through, clear and distinct.

"Thin walls," Kai explained.

"Which wouldn't be a problem," said Will. "If Izzy wasn't such a shameless eavesdropper." He banged on the wall next to him, and I could hear Izzy laugh.