Fake It ‘Til You Break It

I juke left only to slant right for a quick, short pass, and then Coach blows the whistle.

“Good, good. All right, blue squad off, white on,” he calls, lifting his hands for me to pass him the ball.

Other than the O-line, the rest of the team steps off the field so second string can get a couple reps in.

I grab a water bottle, squirting some in my mouth before passing it to Trent.

He watches as his backup QB steps into the pocket. With a little pressure put on him, he releases too early, throwing an interception on his first drive.

Trent scoffs, looking my way as he hands the water back. “Better hope I don’t get injured. This fool can’t throw for shit. He’s been playing scared ever since he got sacked against Joho a few weeks ago.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s a bitch.”

Trent grins, his eyes moving to the bleachers and mine follow. “Speaking of bitches.”

Josie sits there with her friends like she has the last several years just bullshitting until the last bus leaves.

“Demi asked me why we broke up.”

Trent frowns. “When?”

“Couple days ago.”

“Fuck,” he curses, a deep sigh leaving him as he moves to face me.

I lift my foot to the bench to tie my cleat. “What?”

“She knows.”

My head snaps his way. “What do you mean?”

“Demi. She knows why you and Josie split.”

“You tell her?”

He licks his lips, looking off.

“Trent.”

“Nah, man. I didn’t tell her,” he says. “But I confirmed it when she asked.”

“What the fuck, man?!”

“Not confirming would have been just as much confirmation at that point. She asked me point blank. What was I supposed to say?”

“No. You say no, asshole, or better, tell her to talk to me, and I’ll tell her no.”

“I tried that. She asked me a while ago, and I told her to ask you. What’s it matter anyway? It’s not like she wouldn’t eventually find out, right?”

“I wasn’t ready for her to know yet.” I frown. “This is why she’s been quieter than normal.”

Trent eyes me. “Why didn’t you want her to know?”

“Why you playin’ dumb?” I ask him.

“I’m not, but don’t you think you’re running with this a little too hard? I heard you kissed her in class this week, and I saw you kiss her Monday night.”

“And you care why?” I glare. “I was on her, and? She fucking let me. Baited me the same, if you really wanna fuckin’ know. She’s been single a long ass time, Trent. She likes this.”

“Likes pretending?”

I study him. “Likes the playfulness, the attention, the lack of pressure. I’m telling you, you think she’s this schoolgirl who likes studying but lightly parties with her friends. She is, but she’s not. She’s bored.”

“You hardly know her, Nico.”

“You think you do?” I turn toward him. “’Cause your ma and hers are friends? That don’t mean shit.”

He looks ready to say something but thinks better of it and looks away. “No, you’re right. I don’t.”

I sigh, putting my helmet back on and strapping it up. “Look, shit’s twisted right now, so I’m not trying to complicate it even more. And I know the girl better than you think.”

“I’m just saying be careful, she’s had a thing for Alex for a long time. What do you think happens when she finds out the truth, the entire truth?”

Coach Park’s whistle rings through our conversation, so I squirt some water on my mouthpiece, quickly looking back to Trent.

“I don’t know, but don’t help her out anymore, huh?”

I jog back on the field and get into position. I’m not mad at his ass for this because he’s right. If he didn’t answer her straightforward question, that would be an answer in itself. I’m pissed off he has my mind spinning now.

What would I do if she found out now, before I’m ready for her to?

Damn fuckin’ good question.

One that’s on repeat the rest of practice, leaving my chest feeling heavy and my mind muddled when I finally step off the field.

I hang back after everyone’s gone, taking a long shower to try and clear my head before getting in my truck and driving home to a house I hate walking into.

It’s pitch black as always, the curtains drawn as tight as they’ve been for months now, lights off, so I have to use my phone to navigate my way into the kitchen for some water.

There’s a bottle of pills laying spilled over next to the stovetop, an overboiled pot of noodles sitting beside it, raw meat dropped in a pan but never turned on like she got halfway through before the meds kicked in and she abandoned the idea of cooking dinner, something she used to love to do before my dad took her soul with him when he traded up.

With a sigh, I clean up the mess and put the pills back in the container. I go to put the lid on, but resentment flares in my chest as the little red pills mock me, the life I used to have and the life I have now.

Pills that caused me to have to rush home from the beach because my mom decided to take a few too many after a late-night visit from my asshole dad.

I know he found out I was away with friends, which is what led him here that night. I haven’t decided yet if this was out of spite, all to ruin the one weekend away I tried to allow myself or if he was simply taking advantage of my absence.

He’s a sick piece of shit with no regard for the woman he once loved and married and had a son with. If she dies, he inherits all her fortune because while they’re divorced, he’s still in her will and I can’t convince her to change it.

Fuck it.

I tip my hand, letting the poison spill into the sink, running the water to wash them into the disposal, but I don’t turn it on and risk waking her.

I’ll pay for this later, one way or another, but I’ll deal with it as it comes.

As quietly as possible, I open the slider door, grabbing the bag to take it out so it doesn’t stink up the whole house by morning.

I make it halfway to the can when Demi’s voice breaks through the silence of the evening, and I pause in place.

“Are you joking?” Demi laughs, scornfully.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” her ma fires back.

“It’s the seventh of the month, Mom.”

“I’m aware, thank you.”

“How have you already spent all your alimony?” Demi questions. “This makes six months now you’ve asked me to give you money. Dad’s driving into town next weekend to visit. He’s going to ask me where it all went. We always go over my finances when he’s here. I had a savings started he was helping me build. Now I don’t. How am I supposed to explain this? He already called me when you overdrew my card last time, you know, when you took it without even telling me?”

“You’ll say not a word, Demi. Tell him you’re a typical teenager who loves to shop and go out to fancy lunches and things. Tell him you want to live the life he promised us when you were five.”

“You mean the life you live, the life he promised you that he worked his ass off to give you while you sat back constantly telling him it wasn’t enough?!” Demi shouts, but I’d almost say anger is absent from her tone. “I don’t want to live like you. I don’t need to.”

“You have no idea what life is. You’re going to be hit with a rude awakening one day and see it all through my eyes.” There’s a long pause before her mom continues. “It’s no wonder you lost the boy to that floozy friend of yours.”

Whoa, what?

“Don’t start.”

“Then wake up before it’s too late, and she ends up pregnant or something stupid!”

“I don’t understand what you’re playing at, Mom. You give me your little speech that comes after every outing with Clara, before you go, and then you approach Nico about me, for what? To make sure I have a back-up plan you can’t stick your nose up at?” Sarcasm drips from her words, but more so than that, she sounds tired. Fed up with… life, maybe. Like me.

“I have every right to worry about the wellbeing of my daughter. If I have to intervene in areas, I will. I spoke to Krista’s father before the party, we had a long conversation and he shared he sees a lot of the young man,” her mother says in a plummy voice. “I wasn’t aware he and Trent were such great friends.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t a big deal, I kindly asked him if he could ensure the boy’s room was beside yours, is all.”

Good looking out, lady.

“Of course you did,” Demi says monotone. “What did you say to Nico, Mom? That your daughter is weak and needy because she wishes her mom would be around more?”

“You act as if you don’t enjoy the freedom you have.”

“What did you say to him?”

“All I asked was for him to make sure you were safe since you went alone. I have to say, he was rather eager.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It was only a little fun I thought I’d try out, some healthy competition to see if we could evoke jealousy.”

“You… what?!”

“Honey, we have to get the ball rolling.”

“It’s never going to happen. Like ever. You’re insane and you don’t listen to anything I say!”

My head tugs back.

What the fuck are they talking about?

“You know what,” Demi adds after a long second, defeat driving her words. “I don’t know why I asked, I should be thanking you.”

“That’s what I keep trying to tell you.” The smug smile in her mother’s tone is easily caught.

She didn’t pick up on her daughter’s hurt at all.

Does she even know her?

“No, I mean I should thank you for talking to Nico.”

Silence stretches a moment, so I move closer to the fence until I can see through.

There’s a tight crease at the edge of her mom’s eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“Me and Nico, we had fun at Krista’s party and we’ve been having fun since.”

Her mom lifts her head, squares her shoulders. “That… is great then. He’s a fine boy, promising athlete.”

Demi shakes her head and the two stare at each other before her mom speaks again.

“Right, well, I’ll be—”

“Back in a few days even though this is the first I’ve seen you since you got home last night?” Demi finishes for her, an unexpected helplessness woven in her words. “Yeah, Mom, I know the drill.”

She stares at Demi a moment before giving a small nod. “There’re groceries in the fridge you can make something with. I’ll be grabbing your card from your wallet on my way out.”

Her mom disappears into the house, while Demi drops her head back to look at the sky.

With a defeated sigh, she sets her phone on the lounger and walks to the edge of the pool. She steps out, penciling straight into the water with every piece of clothing still on.

I wait for her to pop up, almost to the point where I’m ready to scale the fucking fence and dive in to get her when finally a mess of blonde emerges. A deep gasp follows, but she doesn’t climb out.

She lays back, floating there with her eyes closed, a tense expression covering her forehead, water wafting over her mouth as she uses only her nose to breathe.

Quietly, I open the connecting gate, finding her lock was never put back on, and walk through.

Her eyes pop open immediately, a deep frown taking over her face when she spots me looking down at her as I tug off my shoes.

She allows her body to drop, now swimming in place, only her head sticking out of the water, her eyes following my hands as I pull my shirt over my head before meeting mine.

Only when my belt clinks against my thigh, does her gaze fall to my jeans. I kick them off, quickly toss my socks, and then drop to the edge of the pool, slowly allowing my body to slip into the water.

I don’t have to move.

Demi swims to me, dipping her mouth beneath the water so only her makeup streaked eyes are showing, the deep blue of the water reflecting in her stare, making the green seem impossibly darker.

Our legs kick against each other’s slightly, and simultaneously, we both edge closer to the shallow end, swimming sideways so we’re facing one another as we move.

Once I’m able to reach the bottom, I stretch out, grip her by the hoodie and tug her toward me.

Demi already knows what to do – what I want – and her long legs find their way around my waist, bringing her body close.

Her breathing speeds up, now coming in short, quick puffs, her eyes moving between mine several times before she finally allows them to fall to my lips.

“Neek…” Her voice is a breathy whisper, and her fingers slide across my neck, skimming up and across my fade. “I don’t wanna talk.”

I hold in my groan, but my dick twitches against her.

Her eyes fly to mine, fingers spanning out, covering the base of my skull.

Slowly, torturously fucking slowly, she brings me closer. My groin tightens when the heat of her mouth brushes mine.

Her eyes close.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

Demi jerks back with less than a second to spare, her head snapping toward the interrupting voice.

Trent stands there, right inside her house with a fuddled expression.

I glare, but then Krista’s head pops up around him, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“Hey, girl, hey!” She laughs mischievously. “Should we join you or are you about to get out?”

We were about to fuckin’ kiss.

Demi snaps out of it, her limbs fly from mine and she falls back into the water, dunking under to swim to the stairs so she can climb out.

“Damn, girl!” Krista teases. “In your clothes?”

Demi laughs, pulling her soaked hoodie over her head and letting it fall to the ground before wrapping a towel around her.

My dick is as good as limp now, so I’m right behind her, and she passes me a towel.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asks them. “And how’d you get in, did my mom leave the front open?”

“Yeah, it was open. Didn’t mean to creep, thought you might want to go eat or something?”

I grab my shit off the cement, finding Demi staring at me once I turn back around.

“Want to?” she asks me.

I study her a moment, half expecting her to shy away but she doesn’t so much as fidget, so I agree. “Be right back. I need some dry boxers.”

She rubs her lips together, nodding.

A gravelly chuckle leaves me, and I tip my chin at Trent before stepping into my yard.

It’s only when I get into my room to change that what her mom was saying dawns on me.

Ms. Davenport’s first choice for her daughter is my best fucking friend.

A golden boy, both visually and literally – 4.0, scholarship offers, a solid household, and a successful family business to take over when he’s done.

Much like the other asshole she thinks she wants.

On paper, I can agree Trent or fuckhead Alex are perfect.

I pull my clothes on and head back to Demi’s house.

When I walk in, she’s waiting for me, an easiness in her eyes that’s new to me.

What her mom fails to realize is being perfect and being perfect for Demi are two very different things.

Would she be happy with a carbon copy of herself?

I’m thinkin’ not.