Fake Fiancée

I got in the shower and let the hot water wash over me while I mulled it all over. I couldn’t come up with any scenario where I came out smelling like roses.

One risky move and it could all go up in smoke.

The night air was crisp and cold with not a cloud in the sky, perfect for a game. I felt loose and ready after letting one of the trainers work on getting the kinks out of my shoulders. The only rule I needed to follow to keep my cool was to pretend I didn’t want to rip Felix’s head off. Fool him. I stared off into space and zoned in on the game and what was waiting for me. I imagined the opposing players, their weaknesses, and how to beat them. I visualized every play, every hit I might get, and every touchdown pass I was going to throw. I used every single trick Coach had taught me.

Felix waltzed in, his beady eyes assessing me as he walked by. I waved, making him start before picking up his pace and going to his locker.

He opened it and froze.

I smiled behind my hand, even as Tate shot me one of his warning looks. Okay, okay, he’d talked me down from beating the shit out of Felix, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t fuck with him.

I knew what he saw. My pearl-handled knife stuck in one of his practice jerseys. I’d practically shredded the material. It had taken me getting here early and picking his lock—payback’s a bitch—but I’d managed.

It was a far cry from my eighty thousand dollar vehicle he’d ruined, but it made me feel better.

He’d thought he’d make me crack; but I was in control. I had to be.

On the other hand, I was taking a hell of a chance that he wouldn’t run straight to Coach, but I had my lie all ready to go.

I’d lost my knife a while back.

Maybe it belonged to some other player with an M initial.

Plus, this was the most important game of the season, and I was counting on the fact that if Felix did run his mouth, Coach wouldn’t want to hear any shit before we took the field. Not to mention, we were the two best quarterbacks on the team. No way in hell would he bench us and put in a third-string player.

Felix shot a quick look over his shoulder, but I made sure to be cleaning my shoes, my expression easy going. Calm. I trash talked with the other players.

Later, Coach called us all together, and I was exceedingly polite when I asked if Felix could pass me a water bottle during the pre-game talk. He eyed me warily.

If I wasn’t so angry, I’d be enjoying this.

We headed out to face Taylor University, one of the top-rated schools in the country.

The hometown crowd was insanely loud, homemade signs and cheers from every direction. I looked up into the packed stadium stands to send Sunny my two-fingers kiss, but she wasn’t there. Neither was Mimi. I saw my dad, though, sitting in the seat he’d managed to find that was behind the two he kept each season. I’d told him when he said he wanted to come that he’d have to figure out a way to sit near Sunny because his seat now belonged to Mimi. So where were they?

I slowed my run, and the football player behind me bumped into me as we were running out, and I quickly stepped out of the way to let them pass. I jogged to the bench, my eyes searching the student section, thinking perhaps she’d decided to sit with Ash and Isabella, but then I remembered it was Thanksgiving weekend and they’d gone home to see family.

I felt off-kilter when the game started, especially when we got off to two false starts and a holding penalty.

At the end of the half, we trailed seventeen to three as we walked to the locker rooms. We’d had two missed kicks and I’d thrown an interception. Anxiety rode me hard.

You’ve been in tougher situations, I reminded myself.

My gut churned for another reason as I passed the empty seats where Sunny and Mimi should be.

Where was she?

Sunny

IT WAS A FEW HOURS before game day, and I was taking a pregnancy test.

Yes, I was on the pill, but accidents were possible, and as much as we’d been together—

I stopped. Don’t go there, Sunny. You’re not pregnant.

The night before I stayed at Mimi’s because she’d been under the weather. We’d watched some TV and had dinner together. Right before I went to the guest room to sleep, I’d recalled the comment that Max’s dad had made about me being pregnant, and it dawned on me that my period was late this month. I’d barely slept, and this morning when the sun came up, I headed back home, stopping at Walgreens along the way to buy the most expensive test I could find.

The earliest pregnancy indicator on the market, the packaging promised.

Please let it be negative.

I rushed inside the house and locked the door—as if I was afraid Max could sense what I was doing and suddenly appear. Stupid.

“It doesn’t look good, Charlie,” I said to the unicorn on the wall as I walked in the bathroom. He glared down at me. I imagined he’d say something like What did you expect, idiot? It’s Max-freaking-Kent. All you have to do is look at him and you get knocked up.

Max.

God.

He would—I didn’t know what he’d do.

Nausea rose in my stomach as I read the directions on the back of the box. I sat down on the cold tile in the bathroom, recalling how Bianca had told him she was pregnant. She’d lied but I could only imagine the fear he must have felt.

He might resent me.

And those were the words that pinged around in my head as I took out the white pieces of plastic and did my thing. I set it aside on the back of the toilet and waited.

A knock came at my front door, sending me in every direction. I scrambled to pull back on my skinny jeans and ran out of the bathroom in my sock feet.