Chapter Fourteen
Josh
We win.
Of course we do.
I crow about it for a good five minutes, and then turn to meet Cassie to the side of the makeshift ‘pitch’.
“I won.” I announce, making my voice as smug as possible and deliberately ignoring the fact it was a team game.
I smirk and wait for her to fire back with an insult of some kind. It’s been unexpectedly fun to spar with her like this today. The sort of thing that, if we weren’t trying to make it antagonistic, would easily have led to other forms of passion.
And maybe they still will tonight.
I eye the love bite on her neck, feeling the same thrill I have all day at the idea that I put it there. Marked her. Owned and possessed her, if only for a few brief hours.
But when I meet her eyes, the heat we’ve been playing with all day is gone.
She’s cold as fuck.
“What the fuck have you been playing at, Josh?!” She hisses at me, and she’s even attempting to keep it quiet.
I frown.
What’s she doing now?
Cassie isn’t usually the one to start some new thread in our act.
“Soccer?” I suggest innocently enough, having nowhere else to go with this and knowing it’s sure to piss her off.
It always does when I say shit like that for fun.
Her face turns red, and I see her fists clench by her side. Damn, she’s really getting into this.
“Fuck you, bastard.” She curses me, and now I’m actually starting to get annoyed.
“Okay, what are you actually talking about?” I fold my arms across my chest, bored of the tirade that’s giving me no clues where to take it.
“The girl. Nikki. How the hell did you think that was okay?!” She grinds it out, and a stab of unease shoots through me.
I glance around and see we’ve attracted a bit of attention, even if she is keeping her voice down.
I’m supposed to pretend…what? That I’ve been fooling around with someone else?
I don’t like the idea of that. Even if it’s fake.
And I’m more than a little pissed that she thinks she can just shit on my integrity for her own gain, just to give her family more reasons to hate me.
“What? Nothing to say?” She doesn’t give me a chance to say any of that, and her voice is getting louder. “I know you do whatever the hell you want, Josh, and fuck knows it’s not like you’re actually committed to me. None of this is real. But there’s a time. And a place. And could you not fucking keep it in your pants for One. Fucking. Week.”
She’s right up against me now, vibrating with anger, and poking my chest with every point she makes.
I’m not even stopping her.
I’m just staring.
She’s talking about our fake relationship. Openly.
Oh fucking shit.
This is real.
She actually thinks…
“What—no.” I try to say. “I haven’t—”
But I’m already miles behind in this argument, and I feel I’m grasping at straws trying to catch up.
“Oh, fuck you, Josh. You were supposed to be here to help me. To support me. Not fucking get yourself laid with one of Beth’s skeezy friends!” She’s far too loud now.
And I have no idea what she’s going to say next. What she might give away.
I almost don’t care. What she thinks of me right now is tearing me apart far more than the idea that we might give away this stupid act.
But I am here to help her. And support her.
So I’m not going to let her wreck it.
Even if I can only think of one way to get this damn thing through her head.
“I didn’t fucking fuck that girl!” I yell, already committed to letting everyone hear me.
The force of it stuns her enough to shut her up for a moment, and I take that opening, hoping like hell she gets the right message here.
“But of course you would think that, Cassie. God damn it, everything always has to be about you, doesn’t it?” I practically snarl it, my tone becoming contemptuous and dismissive. Talking to her in a way I never have. Hoping she gets it. “Supporting you. Helping you. Don’t you know I have my own fucking life to worry about too, girl?”
She’s recoiling now, confusion clouding some of her anger as I don’t let up.
“But no. You insist I come to this shitty family gathering, to celebrate your shitty sister getting engaged to some bastard I’ve never met, and do you even know all the auditions I missed! I could’ve been famous by now, you stupid bitch. And here you are, ungrateful as ever, accusing me of fucking some brain-dead girl I never looked twice at. Well, maybe I should!”
Cassie isn’t even arguing back, she’s just staring at me with utter horror, her eyes wide and shock written all over her face.
Adrenaline is surging through me, and I wonder whether I’ve gone too far with all of this, but fuck it, she wanted a performance from me.
She wanted this to be totally devastating. Something her family would understand she’d need a fucking long time to recover from.
But she’s not meant to just stand there and take it.
Well, fuck it. I’m committed.
“It’d be a damn sight better than sticking here with you.” I add, my voice lowering as it turns harsh and I make it really fucking obvious that we’re doing the break-up now, just in case she hasn’t caught on. “You know what - I’m done with this whole fucking shit-show. It’s over, Cassie.”
I wait one split-second for a reaction, and when nothing but shell-shocked silence greets me, I turn on my heel.
I’d wanted something from her - wanted some indication we were in this together - but if she’s not up to it, I can finish it alone.
“You…you’re just going to leave?!” It comes just as I’m about to walk off, and relief floods through me.
Finally. She gets it.
I turn back derisively. “Well, there’s obviously nothing here for me, is there?”
“You fucking bastard.” She says, her face twisted up with some emotion even I can’t identify. “After everything…you’re just going to walk away. Leave me here - like it all meant nothing to you. What, was it all a lie, asshole?!”
She hiccups, a sob ripping through her, and it only propels her on. I face her down, but secretly I’m impressed. I didn’t know Cassie could give a performance like this.
“You’re a fucking actor, Josh, a fucking good one. You take someone in, make them feel you care, make them think that what you feel might actually be real - but it’s not, is it? It never fucking is. None of this has been real to you at all, has it?! As fake as any other stupid fucking act in your life, and now…now you’re just going to go. Like you never cared at all—”
A flicker of unease shoots through me.
It’s clever. But it hits way too close to home. Too close to what we were actually doing.
It’s got that ring of truth that makes it work, but still…
“You know another word for an actor, Josh? A fucking liar. How long have you been lying to me, huh? Just to get—to get whatever the fuck you want—to get laid…is that it, huh?”
She’s angry. And upset. Her voice is ragged with it, and even though it’s not real…it might be breaking my heart anyway.
I hope it’s not real.
Just an act. Just pretend.
Because all I want to do right now is pull her into my arms and make it all better.
And I can’t do any of that.
I shake my head, angrily, going on instinct as I try to work out what the hell is going on. It’s not hard, not with those jibes about my job.
“You don’t have a clue, Cassie. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. How would you even know what’s real - you, who can’t take the slightest risk without a three-hour conversation, a spreadsheet and a timetable to consult? That’s not how life works, fuck it. And I’m done with it dragging me down.”
She recoils and I have a moment to wonder if I went too far - too close.
But those are the traits that - infuriating as they are - I’ve always found adorable about her. And she knows that.
“I don’t have a clue?! I’m not the one with a string of broken, failed relationships and no idea why they never work out. I never knew why, Josh. Not until now. But fuck it, no wonder you can’t keep a woman for longer than a few months. You’re an asshole, you haven’t got a clue what it really means to care about someone, and you know what - you can fuck off. Feel free, bastard. Why the hell would I want you to stay around any longer?!”
“You fucking…you don’t understand a fucking thing, Cassie. Stupid, naive girl.” I’m vibrating with anger now - real anger - and I have to stop myself from yelling and cursing some more.
She’s got tears running down her cheeks and the fiercest expression I’ve seen yet, fists clenched at her sides while she glares at me.
“Just fucking go.”
“Gladly. I’m done with this whole fucked up thing.”
This time when I turn on my heel, I don’t wait for any other response. I don’t wait to see if we’re on the same page.
I don’t want to.
This shit got too real, too fast, and I’m spinning with my reaction to it.
I storm towards the house, call a taxi I can barely be civil enough to order, and shove my shit into a bag.
Usually I can control myself. I can use my emotions for an act, to play a part. But they never take over. I never get confused about what’s actually real.
But then I’ve never tried arguing with my best friend, the one who knows every fucking thing about me, while we’re playing ourselves.
She pushed buttons I didn’t even know I had, and…fucking god damn it.
I slam a fist against the door jam on the way out of the house, then kick at the ground as I realize I’ve got nothing to do except wait here. For god knows how long.
Reliving that scene again and again in my mind.
When I finally calm down enough to stop being pissed at everything she said, an unpleasant weight settles inside me.
This was meant to be part of the plan.
Sure, I was hoping not to have to actually do the break up part. And it wasn’t meant to be a day early.
But I was always going to go through with it if I had to.
I knew we’d probably have to work the rest of the shit out ourselves, back home, and away from her family.
So why do I feel like everything has gone terribly wrong?
I was prepared for our fake relationship to end. But that break-up felt more real than the whole damned thing.
Everything we said to each other is circling in my head. Unrelenting.
Does she really think all that shit about me?
About my relationships. About my job. About…me.
I try to tell myself she doesn’t. That it’s just an act.
That this was all part of the plan.
My plan.
But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve fucked it all up.
I wait for the taxi for a very long time, wondering if Cassie will come after me.
Even if it’s just to let me know that it’s okay - that this is what she wanted.
She doesn’t come, though.
Neither does anyone else.