The Trouble with Faking It / Tyler Seguin

Chapter 1: Maybe Crazy Is Just The Kind Of Change I Need

Chapter 1:

Maybe crazy is just the kind of change I need

Sometimes the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy

October 8th, 2018

"I need your help." Tyler says, barging in my front door bright and early on a Saturday morning. I idly wonder when he got a key and how often he has used it.

"If there is one of your one-night-stands sleeping in your house, I'm not going to tell her to leave." I say, eating a spoonful of Lucky Charms.

"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend." He says and I choke on the cereal that was in my mouth. He looks a little concerned when I start coughing and awkwardly pats my back. I elbow his ribs and shoot him a glare.

When I'm able to breathe again and have cleaned the milk off my face, I turn around in my chair so I'm facing him.

"Are you out of your mind?"

He chews on his bottom lip and shakes his head slowly. "No."

"Explain." I say simply.

"Look, I just need to get my mom off my back and clear my image up a little. Just so people see that I'm maturing."

"This is far from mature, Tyler." I snap and shake my head. "I'm not pretending to be you girlfriend so you can look good."

"Please, Daisy. I'll do anything."

"No."

"I'll pay you."

"No."

"I'll –ʺ

"Tyler Paul Seguin, I said no." I snap and he frowns.

The problem with Tyler is that he's so used to having whatever he wants. He thinks every time he wants something, it will be handed to him on a silver platter. I like keeping him in line, which is why there is no way I will be agreeing to this.

"I can help you find her."

I freeze, looking at Tyler with accusation and hurt in my eyes. There are only four people who know what happened and I trusted Tyler with it.

"That's dirty pool."

He looks a little guilty but he also knows how badly I would want to take him up on that offer.

"What exactly do you need?" I mutter, going back to eating my cereal.

He hops on the stool next to me excitedly. "It's not a lot. Just come to my games –ʺ

"I do come to your games."

"More games. Girlfriends do that, don't they?" He asks.

"Well you wouldn't know."

"And maybe comes to parties with me every so often. Oh, and spend more time at my house."

"I hate your house." I remind him and he rolls his eyes.

"What's not to like about it?"

"Too big."

He narrows his eyes and waves his arms around my kitchen. "Uh, have you seen your house?"

"It's not my house."

"Just because your parents pay for it doesn't mean it's not your house." He says.