Faking It

Chapter 30: You're Not The Problem

I'd seriously underestimated Theo's friends' level of asshole, which was my own damned fault. I knew full well that Connor was the kind of guy who viewed girls as just a collection of parts and not as people. No wonder he hadn't bothered to remember my name. Aurelia's words stung, though. Especially when she'd seemed so nice at the breakfast table. It made me wonder why Theo was friends with them, if this was how they'd treat someone they thought was his girlfriend. It didn't line up with the guy I thought I knew—the one he was when we were alone together.

Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe the guy he was when we were alone together was as fake as our ruse. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but his friends had complained that he was acting weird at breakfast. Maybe the version of Theo I thought I knew was the act, and the person he was around his friends was the truth.

I didn't like the way that thought settled in my stomach like a rock.

The party swallowed up Connor's faked cry of disappointment, and I wove through a legion of sweaty cowboys, zombies, and firemen, then past an entire Vogue shoot's worth of girls in vaguely-themed lingerie. The kitchen was within view when one of them broke off and planted herself in front of me, a hand on her hip.

"It's not your turn," Emma snapped, pointing at me around her cup. She was wearing a tiny, sparkly bikini top shaped like clam shells, a fish-scale mini skirt, and glittery green fishnets. The mermaid to Theo's Aquaman. I bit my tongue against my bitter laugh.

"For what?" I asked, trying to go around her.

She was surprisingly agile in her sky-high heels and caught my arm in her frigid fingers. "For Theo."

I squinted at her. "I'm sorry, did I just hear that right? Is Theo some kind of toy you all get to—"

"This year was my turn," she said over me, her voice rising. "Giselle got him last fall, and now it's my turn! Not yours!"

I blinked at her, then burst into laughter. "You should drink some water, Em. You're not making any sense."

"Leave him alone, you pathetic loser!" She dug her nails into my wrist. I wrenched away with a hiss, but she held tight. "You're nothing. You're less than nothing! And dating Theo won't make you—"

"Won't make her what?"

Emma released me abruptly. I yanked my wrist back to massage the place where she'd gouged me. Theo's arms were suddenly around me, his chest pressed flush against my back. While it probably looked like a hug, it definitely felt more like a restraint. Almost as if he knew that I was on my last, fraying thread of patience and dangerously close to diving at Emma, fingernails first.

"Apparently I cut the line," I said, before she could get the last word. "To date you, I mean. Emma was just telling me how it was Giselle's turn last year, and now it's hers."

Emma's perfectly tinted mouth hung open, and while it wasn't nearly as satisfying as clawing at her the way she'd clawed me, my hunched shoulders relaxed. As if he could feel it, Theo gave me a quick squeeze and burst into laughter.

"Is that why you were so easy last week?" he asked. "Geez, Em. I thought you knew that was nothing."

Her glare shifted from me up to him before she whirled on her heel and disappeared between the shells of a pair of Ninja Turtles. I blew out a breath and checked my arm for any residual damage. Thankfully, her manicured nails hadn't been all that sharp.

"You okay?" Theo asked, arms still around me.

I shook my head, slowly unclenching my fists. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are."