{Emma}

He’s so good at saying something that makes me like him again. Knowing he gawks at me when I’m not looking has me all tingly. I love the way he looks at me, like there’s no one else in the world who can hold his attention when I’m talking to him. Every girl deserves a guy who looks at her like that. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”

“Are you coming over tonight?”

I hate the way my heart flips at spending the night with him again. Maybe we’d make it past hand jobs this time. “Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Practically live at their boyfriend’s place? We can’t use my place. I live in a dorm with a nosy roommate.” I’m not ready to explain any of this to Britt. This is just an act, right? Besides, his mod gives us more privacy to pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, while having a little fun together. As friends. Only friends.

“Emily? Shouldn’t you be working on your lab?” Nancy approaches, her stinky coffee cup in hand. Facing Ryan, I roll my eyes and pretend to stick my finger down my throat before turning to her.

“It’s Emma,” Ryan and I correct at the same time.

“I was just getting my password reset,” I add.

“You’ve been up here for ten minutes.”

Ten minutes, my ass. “What is this, high school? You’re not the hall monitor, Nancy. Nor are you the actual instructor.”

She bristles at first, but then her gaze narrows in with pinpoint precision. “Get your ass back in the lab, or I’ll mark you absent.”

“Yeah, but I’m already here. And, with Ryan’s help, I can now log in.” I push away from the desk.

“See you tonight Emma,” Ryan calls out loud enough for everyone in the entire computer center to hear, emphasizing my name. I turn to face him and shoot him a glare. What the hell is he doing? We never agreed to advertise our arrangement.

“Are you and HP…?” Nancy lets the rest fade as she darts a shocked look to me, then Ryan, then back to me. Her eyes round and I die a little inside. I’m so going to kill him for this. But, then again, this is exactly what I’d agreed to. I guess a little advertising really is part of the deal.

Time to put on my big girl panties. “Ryan and I are dating.”

“Ryan?” Nancy blinks at me.

“HP was his boy’s name.” I flip my hair and make a big production of it. “Now that he’s a man, he’s going by a man’s name.”

Nancy’s attention bounces to Ryan and right before my very eyes, something transforms in her expression. She no longer looks at him like he’s a bug she wants to squash. She has interest in her gaze and even licks her lips.

I shudder. Gross. She’s mentally fucking him. Either that, or she’s contemplating ways to kill him and hide the body. I’ve never been any good at deciphering between the two. I hurry off before I witness anything else that will make me want to vomit. The minute I sit down and sign into the computer, an instant message pops up from Ryan.

Why’d you leave like that?

You just embarrassed the shit out of me! Do it again and our deal is off.

What’d I do? You’re the one who said we were dating. Like it or not, that’s our deal.

“You fu—”

“What’s got you so pissed?” Britt cuts in, stopping me from dropping the F bomb in the middle of the computer lab. Not that anyone would have cared.

I don’t want to reveal my deal with Ryan to Britt yet. She calls all my boyfriends “Project Em’s Way” which is both catchy and irritating. I don’t only date guys that need to be groomed into what I want. Well, except for Ryan, but he doesn’t count since we’re only fake dating anyway. “I hate this class.”

“You and me, both. Nancy is a Nazi with coffee. I bet the professor didn’t even change the due date. She did it just to make us suffer. We should kill her,” Britt declares. “I bet Mike would help.”

“Mike?”

“The bartender,” she replies, clearly annoyed. I never got his name or his attention.

“As tempting as a murder rap sounds, I think I’ll pass.” I spend the rest of class staring at random letters and numbers, wondering how I’m ever going to pass.

“Yes!” Britt exclaims at the end of class, scaring the shit out of me. I’m so into creating Java classes and objects that I literally jump. Then I blink out of my delirium as I realize I’m actually getting the subject matter. “Guess what?”

“You finished your midterm and are planning to help me.” I smile sweetly and hope I’m right.

She waves off my comment and holds up the cell phone in her hands. “Mike just texted me to tell me he found my panties.”

Oh, sweet Jesus. No doubt the mouth-breather behind us heard that. The ticking of his keys came to an abrupt stop.

“You’re going commando?” I whisper fiercely, shocked she left the dorm without underwear. I had to walk back to the dorm commando and felt like taking another shower. Some things are meant to be covered—like coochies.

“I had to leave something there for him to find and have an excuse to text me,” she defends and rolls her eyes as if I’m the crazy one. “Come on, Em. It’s classic One-Night Stand 101. If you want to see the guy again, you casually leave something at his place and wait for his text. If you want to forget the night ever happened, you leave no evidence of the crime and lose his number.”

“You’re a true master.” I return my attention to the computer.

Britt’s cell buzzes and she practically squeals. “It’s him.” After she reads the text, she holds the phone to her heart.

And, just like that, she’s moving at her usual speed of light toward her next heartbreak. Of course, we’ll have to find a new bar since Mr. Heartbreaker will be the one serving the hefty dose of her favorite breakup cocktail.

“He doesn’t work tonight and asked me if I want to hang out.” She reads her message aloud as she thumbs it. “Let me check if I already have plans.” After she sends it, she looks at me. “What? I don’t want him to think I’m too easy.”

“This from the person who left her panties at his place.”

She huffs at me. “Don’t give me shit. It’s my process, and it totally works. What are you doing tonight?”

Oh, shit. “I, uh… I have plans.” I scratch my forehead to cover my eyes.

“With who?”

Double shit. “Someone.”

She sets her cell on the computer table, which is a rarity for her. When she nails me with that knowing look and spikes her eyebrow, I wince. She’s already on to me. “All right, Em. Spill. Who is he? If you say it’s the nerd from last night I’m calling a friendtervention right the fuck now.”

By the time I’m done with him he won’t be the nerd from last night. I decide that’s as close to justification as I’m going to get. Besides, I like spending time with him. He makes me laugh and doesn’t look at me like he’s picturing me naked. Okay, he doesn’t look at me like that all the time. Sometimes it’s nice when he looks at me like that. I’m not going to lie.

“It’s not the same guy.” That guy wore glasses. This guy wears contacts. After tonight, he’ll sport a brand new haircut. We’ll tackle the wardrobe over the weekend. Come Monday, he’ll be a new man.

“Good. Do I know this guy?”

“No,” I say as I shake my head. “He’s from my chem class.” It’s not a lie.

“You’re in chem?”

We talk about our schedules at least once a week. I roll my eyes and move on to a subject I know will keep her occupied. “Have you responded to Mike?”

“Shit!” She grabs her phone and checks the screen. She then thumbs a text before finally letting out a breath as if she just defused a bomb in the nick of time. As she stares at her phone, not even blinking, I watch her. What makes people rely so much on others for their own happiness? Britt is the epitome of co-dependent. But she’s my best friend and I love her, so that makes it okay.

I, on the other hand, define the very word of being independent. I have no choice. Growing up with no one to talk to but my Bratz dolls, I learned how to entertain myself. My dad traveled for his job and disappeared when I was in the sixth grade. Mom worked something like twenty hours a day. It sucked, but I got it. Reality sucks. In today’s economy, both parents have to work. Do I wish I’d had someone other than my driver’s ed instructor teach me how to drive? Hells yeah. Did it happen? No. But it is what it is and I accept that.

I can count on one hand how many family dinners we had together growing up before my dad traded my mom in for a younger model. I still haven’t forgiven him for ditching my mom and me like that. Him leaving taught me to never let a guy close enough to play me the way he did my mom. I use wit and sarcasm to make sure I always have the upper hand in any situation. It’s my way to control my surroundings, and I like it just fine that way.

Oh, well. I’m not about to dwell on the things I can’t change. I now attend a hella-awesome university on an island a quick ferry ride from Seattle. The scholarship I receive to pay for school is only possible because my dad is now out of my life. All-in-all, it worked out for the best. Okay, maybe not the best, but at least the way it’s supposed to be.

Britt’s phone buzzes and she lets out a sigh as she smiles at the screen. “He wants me to come over tonight. Can you handle being alone again?”

I so want to tell her to eat shit and die right now. I like having the dorm room to myself. Of course, I’ll be at Ryan’s, but she doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll be fine. You go and have fun getting over Paul, you crazy kid.”

“Peter,” she reminds me through clenched teeth. “Honestly, Em. I don’t think you’re even listening half the time I’m talking to you.”

Okay, now I’m pissed. She can’t remember the name of any of my boyfriends. Not one. Granted, I don’t keep them around long enough for her to know much about them, but she could at least remember a name.

I stand and grab my bag. “I have to get to chem.” I storm off. She doesn’t stop me. My shoulders deflate along with my ambition. Being best friends with Britt has its ups and downs. Today is definitely one of the downs. I can’t tell her about my night without her getting all judgy. It’s why I keep the topic of conversation on her. Sometimes it’s just easier to be the supporting actress instead of the star of the show.

“Hey,” Ryan says as he catches up with me. I don’t want company and drop my gaze in the hopes he walks by, but he doesn’t. When he tries to take my bag, I switch shoulders. He jumps to my other side and takes my bag anyway.

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag.” I grab it and jerk it back.

“Sorry.” He puts up his hands to ward off the attack. “I was just trying to be a good boyfriend.”

“This isn’t junior high. Guys don’t carry a girls’ books in college.”

“This guy does.” He falls into step beside me. When I speed up, so does he. I slow, he slows. Giving up the idea of ditching him, I walk at a normal pace. “Should we hold hands or something?”

I stop and narrow my gaze. “What are you talking about?”

He narrows his in return and we have a standoff. When he doesn’t back down, I’m impressed. “You’re my girlfriend, remember?”

“How can I forget if you keep reminding me?” And the entire computer lab. Now that Nancy knows, so will anyone who’ll listen to her. She likes to talk. A lot.

“Come on, Emma. It can’t be that bad having to pretend to like me.” I hate the hurt in his eyes. The twist in his expression. Luckily, he recovers quickly and saves me from having to apologize for my comment. “It’s only until the DASH.”

One month. I can do this. It’s all for a higher cause. Anyone who attends the DASH is set for life. Friends. Popularity. Club offers out the ass. I need to get into that party. Besides, hanging with Ryan makes me laugh. That’s exactly what I need right now. I lighten up. “It’s torture, let me tell you.”

He must know I’m joking and grins. “I know I’m in pain whenever I look at you.”

“Ew.” I make a face. “Another douchy comment. Well done.”

“Thanks.” He holds out his hand. “Shall we?”

“Fine,” I groan and take it. He grips it so tight I lose all feeling in my fingers. “Ow, ow, ow.” I jerk my hand back. “Hold my hand like it’s no big deal.”

“But it is,” he defends and reaches for my hand again.

“No.” I put my finger up as if I’m scolding him. “Like this.” I take his hand and gently place it in mine. When he tries to curl his fingers around mine, I stop him and shake his hand loose. He’s got a grip like a pit bull. “Would you just relax?”

“Give me your hand,” he orders and holds out his hand.

I pull mine back. “Not until you learn to hold hands like a normal person and not like you’re…” I draw a blank and blow my bangs out of my eyes. “Let’s just do this. Remember, be casual.”

He takes my hand and is pretty smooth about it, I have to admit. Although he’s still gripping me too tight, too desperate, he does seem to relax his posture. As we walk to class, he settles more and even eases up on his grip. At least he doesn’t have clammy hands.

I try to ignore the looks we’re getting. They burn into me, judging me. At first it embarrasses the shit out of me. But then it pisses me off. Who the hell are they to judge me for choosing a guy like Ryan? He’s sweet. Kinda cute. Has extremely talented hands and is a great kisser. He’s the kind of guy who still opens doors for people. I hold my chin high as I stare down each set of eyes that meet mine.

He opens the door to the chemistry building and I walk in, smiling and feeling a little pampered. He then lets me walk into the classroom first and even waits until I sit at the table before he does. I look at him, wondering how he can be so weird and cool at the same time. “You know, guys like you don’t really exist.”

He turns to me and we both mimic each other by resting our elbows on the table and our chin on our hands. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, I guess you are.”

We spend several seconds letting that statement sink in between us. He’s not interested in looking at anyone but me. I hold all his interest and love it. Having him stare at me so intently, like he’s memorizing everything about me, has me warm all over.

“If it isn’t the happy couple.” Brad, the ultimate Delta dick, ruins our moment with his presence. He waltzes over to our table, two Delta shadows in tow. Ryan tenses and looks ready to take him on. I reach under the table and grab Ryan’s hand. He relaxes. Sort of. Brad grins wide. “I guess you really did go home with HP last night. I didn’t think he had it in him. Seriously, dude. I totally didn’t.” He drops his smile as he studies Ryan. “What’s different about you?”

Ryan doesn’t answer and continues to glare. He looks ready to shred Brad if the douche does anything to provoke him. I squeeze his hand to catch his attention. When he shakes his head and returns his glare to Brad, I offer, “Contacts.”

“A definite improvement. Now if she can do something with the rest of you.”

“You know—” Ryan jumps to his feet and tries to pry free of my grip. I refuse to let him get his ass kicked over me.

“There’s nothing wrong with the rest of him,” I interject, heat creeping into my cheeks. “There’s nothing wrong with him at all.” That calms Ryan enough to get him back in his seat. He’s still glaring at Brad like he wants to kill him. “Unlike others around here.”

“Yeah, okay. Your eyesight must be as bad as his.”

“That does it.” Ryan attempts to stand, but I yank his hand and force him down.

“If you don’t mind,” I snap and throw my book open. When I nod at Ryan, he does the same. “We’re in the middle of an experiment.”

“Obviously.” Brad gives Ryan a nod. “Don’t let me get in the way. By the way. Nice catch, dude. Not sure how you landed someone so far out of your league. There may be a Delta in there somewhere after all. You two, let’s bounce.”

The three walk away to harass someone else and I turn to Ryan. He’s shaking, and I squeeze his hand. He’s lost all his color. “Look at me.” He ignores me and continues to glare at the Delta trio as they tease a guy sitting alone. “Ryan, look at me.”

He does and it takes him a few seconds to blink and soften his expression. Once I’m sure he really sees me, I release his hand. “Are you okay?”

“You have no idea how hard that was.” His gaze slowly slides toward Brad.

I don’t understand his comment and grab his hand to bring him back to me. “How hard what was?”

“If he said one more thing about you, good or bad, I would have jumped him.”

I’m flattered. I’ve never had a guy ready to come to my defense like that before. But then I come to my senses and jerk my hand away. “You can’t fight every guy who does or says something you don’t like about everyone.”

“Not about everyone,” he corrects in a low, even voice that strums across my nerves. “Only when it comes to you.”

Oh good Jesus in sheets. I’ve never had anyone declare something like that before. I rest my elbow back on the table to hold up my head. “What’s so special about me?”

“You really have to ask me that?” He mirrors my stance and we’re once again back to staring into each other’s eyes.

“No,” I say and shake my head quickly. “I guess I don’t.” I’m warm and giddy from his comment. With a wide smile, I add, “Keep it up, Romeo. Comments like that will definitely get you a second date. You’re doing good.”

He grins and leans toward me. “You ain’t seen nuttin’, yet.”

And that worries me.