Pretend You're Mine

by Francisco, Fabiola

  “Yeah.”

  Faith and I grab the material and decorations I need, and we make our way to the gym.

  “Wow,” Faith whispers when we walk in. She looks around the space with her mouth hanging open in awe. “You’ve done all this by yourself?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands and haven’t wanted to go home to an empty apartment.”

  “Poppy…” She tilts her head and gives me a sad smile. “I hear he’s miserable.”

  I roll my eyes. “Maybe he’s miserable that he lost a bet.”

  I turn away from her, looking at draped spider webs, grouped tree branches that look like bare trees in a spooky forest, and candles hanging from the ceiling with fishing wire, so it gives the effect that they’re floating. I took every Pinterest idea that was kid-friendly and recreated it in the gym. When the students see it, they’re going to love it. They’ve been talking about Halloween all month long, and their excitement is starting to become contagious.

  Last week was a different story. I snapped at my students for no other reason than my crappy mood, and when one of them whispered, “She’s mean,” I almost burst into tears.

  I don’t want my students to think that way about me. We’re only a few months into the school year, and we’re still getting to know each other. Mean Teacher is the last title I want to own.

  “What’s left to do?” Faith spins around, her eyebrows raised as she stares at everything.

  “Just some final details.” We work together to finish perfecting the gym so it can go from PE classroom to super cool Halloween room.

  The bleachers are open, so all the parents will have a place to sit on the day of the parade.

  “What are you dressing up as?” Faith asks as she wraps the door with toilet paper to transform it into a mummy.

  “Mary Poppins. We read the picture book in class last month, and I thought the kids would love it,” I smile.

  “That’s cute,” she exclaims with a smile. “They will love it.”

  “Hopefully, they figure out who I am before I have to explain it. Kinda defeats the purpose of a costume if no one guesses who you are.”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’re dressing up as superheroes in the office. Typical, but it will be fun. I’m Wonder Woman.” The office staff dresses-up as a group every year for Halloween.

  “Oh, fun. Wonder Woman is big right now.”

  “Yeah, I finally ordered a costume. It was hard to find one that was appropriate for work, most were slutty.” Faith shakes her head with a smirk. “Although, if I had a boyfriend, I would’ve bought the slutty one, too,” she winks.

  I chuckle and look away. The image of Harris and I dressed in a couple’s costume pangs my chest.

  “Sorry,” Faith whispers and walks to me for a hug. “I didn’t think.”

  “It’s okay, you should be able to talk freely around me. It was just a short-lasting relationship, not a death. I don’t want everyone to think I’ll break at the drop of a pin.”

  “The saying is, at the drop of a hat, but I don’t think that’s quite right for this situation either,” Faith bites down her laugh as she pulls back and looks at me.

  “Whatever,” I shrug and roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.” Faith nods and works on the decorations, distracting me from the piercing pain in my chest.

  It’s dark by the time I leave school. I told Faith she didn’t have to stay until I finished, but she insisted.

  “Let me treat you to dinner as a thank you for your help.” I turn to Faith as we reach our cars in the parking lot.

  “You don’t have to, Poppy. That’s what friends are for.” Her smile is kind.

  “I want to,” I practically beg. It’s been nice to have a conversation that didn’t involve my failed relationship or the embarrassment I experienced when I found out Harris was just with me to win a bet.

  Faith must read my mind because she nods and agrees to dinner. “Clarke’s?” she asks.

  I shake my head. Chances are Harris will be at Clarke’s. “Let’s get pizza.”

  We walk into Howdy’s Pizza and stand in line. The small restaurant is crowded. A few people wait off to the side for their orders to be ready, so they can take it home. Other people sit at the tables, eating. I don’t miss their glances in my direction, but I focus on the back of the man in front of me. Avoiding everyone has worked so far.

  When the door opens, I turn to see who it is. I’m not sure why—second nature, I guess—if I’m working on avoiding the people in this town. Faith turns with me, and her eyes snap to mine. I shake my head and turn around, ignoring Harris’s presence as he walks in and stands behind us.

  “Hi,” he says in a hushed tone.

  I ignore him despite the prickling feeling on my neck.

  “Can we please talk? I want to explain.” His voice sounds hoarse as if he’s in pain.

  I look at Faith and hand her a twenty. “Can you order and we’ll eat at my place? Choose whatever toppings you want.” Faith simply nods, her eyebrows dip, and the worry lines between them become deep valleys as she looks from me to Harris out of the corner of her eye.

  I walk out of Howdy’s, avoiding a scene.

  “Poppy, please,” Harris begs behind me on the sidewalk.

  I shake my head and keep my back to him. “Leave me alone,” I say flatly.

  “I need to explain. You won’t answer my calls or messages, and there’s more to the story.” I hear his steps shuffle closer, and I walk away and hop in my car before he can reach me.

  Harris’s hands are in his pockets, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes are sad, and I almost believe he’s in as much pain as me. Then, the memory of his guilty expression when I told him what Jessica said slaps me back into reality, and I put my car in reverse and head home.

  Poppy

  I hover my finger over the delete button on my phone as I stare at the picture of Harris in his new cowboy boots, standing by the statue of Richard Morgan. I’ve tried to delete these photos from my phone numerous times, but I can’t seem to make myself do it. That day was perfect. It was the first time we went out together as a real couple, no pretending we had feelings for each other after we had been honest the night before.

  Now, I wonder if Harris’s admission that he had feelings for me was fueled by the bet. He saw a way to turn the fake relationship into something I thought was real, giving him a chance to use me and my feelings to win the bet.

  But why? Why would he do this and what’s in it for him? It’s not like he wants a job with my father. At least Patrick and his friends have political aspirations in their future. I don’t think Harris isn’t interested in that.

  I sigh and look back at the photo. The confirmation asking if I want to delete the photo stares back at me, and I press Delete. All I’ll have is the memory of his dry-humping orgasm. How many men can actually give a woman an orgasm while dry-humping?

  My phone rings in my hand, Averly’s name appearing on my screen. “Hey, are you on your way?” Averly asks when I answer my phone.

  “Huh?” My eyebrows pull together as I wonder what she’s asking me.

  “Are you coming to the B and B? You promised you’d come help me pick colors for each room.” Averly trails off, but I have no recollection of this conversation.

  “When?” I sit taller on the sofa.

  “The other day. I asked if you were busy on Saturday, and you told me no and agreed to help me.”

  I don’t remember that conversation, but most of my conversations as of lately have been a combination of, “Yeah,” “I’m okay,” “Sure,” and “Mmhmm.” I figured vague phrases would work best in getting my friends and mom to leave me alone. I guess I must’ve agreed to this.

  “Averly, I rather stay home today.”

  “Poppy Powell, you promised,” she whines, which is not like Averly.

  “Can we do it tomorrow?” I’m not sure I’ll help her tomorrow either, but it buys me another day to come up with an excuse.
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  “No,” her voice is harsh. “You’re helping me today. So help me God, I’ll drag you out of your apartment myself. I’m already stressed enough with this renovation, so don’t test me.”

  “Okay, okay. Give me five minutes to change, and I’ll head over.” I shake my head and hang up.

  I haven’t been the greatest friend. I know the amount of pressure Averly has put on herself, and I want to support her the same way she’s been there for me. When I pull into the bed and breakfast, I notice Faith’s car is also parked outside.

  I climb up the few steps and open the door. “Averly, you already have—” I halt when I see Averly, Faith, and Abbie standing in the living room with their arms crossed.

  “What is going on?” I cross my arms to mimic their rooted stance.

  “We need to talk,” Averly takes a step toward me. You’ve got to be kidding me. They set me up.

  “What is this? Some kind of intervention?” My nostrils flare, and I drop my arms, my nails biting into my palms as I clench my fists.

  “Sort of,” Abbie says, and Averly shoots her a warning glare. Abbie’s eyes shoot open, and she takes a step back. Fatih walks around me, sliding a workbench to block the front door.

  “Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous.” I look from Faith to Averly. Abbie seems too nervous even to look my way. I know how much she hates confrontations.

  “We need you to listen to us,” Faith says.

  “And locking me in is the way to do that?”

  “Whatever works,” she shrugs and pushes the workbench against the door to make sure it’s locked in place, and then she adds a heavy toolbox on top.

  I look at Averly now. “Did I even agree to come and help you today?”

  “No, but you’ve been so distracted that I knew you’d believe me since you haven’t been focusing on our conversations.”

  “Manipulative,” I seethe.

  “It’s for your own good, we promise.” Averly moves around the living room, and that’s when I notice four chairs are set up in the space. “Sit.” She points to a chair.

  “You guys are insane.”

  “We just want you to be happy,” Abbie finally speaks up, her lips turned down as she looks at me with sad eyes.

  I take a deep breath before I lose my temper and take a seat. I know my friends, and they won’t let me go until I hear what they have to say. I might as well get it over with. The sooner I do, the sooner I can go back to my apartment, put on old sweats, and read my thriller. Kidnappings are more distracting than I imagined.

  “I spoke to Harris,” Faith begins. When my eyebrows shoot up, she quickly continues. “He went back into Howdy’s on Thursday. I ignored him at first, but he spoke anyway. I really think you should hear him out. He had his reasons for what he did.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “Are you taking his side?”

  “This isn’t about sides,” Averly says in an even voice, contradicting mine.

  “Let’s just tell her,” Abbie tells Averly and Faith as if I weren’t sitting across from them. I feel like a small child being scolded for my behavior.

  “I think she should hear it from him,” Faith frowns.

  “If we don’t tell her, she’ll never talk to him and will be miserable for the rest of her life. We know how stubborn she is,” Abbie continues to speak as if I weren’t present.

  “Right here,” I point at myself the way Blake Shelton does when he’s trying to convince a singer from The Voice to join his team. Ugh, Blake Shelton… Country music… Harris. Everything makes a full circle, so that I’m constantly thinking about him.

  I sigh and slouch in the chair.

  “Fine.” Faith breathes out. “Poppy, the reason Harris approached Patrick with the excuse of joining in on the bet was that he wanted to find out why they started that thing in the first place and figure out a way to end it.” She speeds through her explanation before I can interrupt her.

  I narrow my eyes. “And you believed him? Of course, he’s going to make up an excuse. He’s had weeks to figure out the right story to win me back, through my friends. It’s a fool-proof plan from the outside.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” Averly speaks up.

  “How do you know if you weren’t there?” I arch an eyebrow to challenge her.

  “Because Jessica told me.” Averly takes a deep breath, expelling it from her mouth.

  “What?” I sit taller now and widen my eyes as I stare at my best friends. Then, I shake my head. “Jessica was the person who told me Harris had reached out to Patrick.”

  “Because he had, but under the pretense he wanted a piece of the bet.”

  “You spoke to Jessica?” I still can’t believe Averly did that, not with their history.

  “I did,” she nods. “I needed to confirm that what Harris had told Faith was true.”

  “Wow,” I lean back, too stunned to argue. Averly talking to Jessica is a big deal. Huge, in fact, almost bigger than Averly talking to Patrick. Averly and Patrick started dating when we were in high school. For a reason I still don’t understand, she was smitten with him. After she lost her virginity to him, he’d gone and slept with Jessica. Jessica, being the peach she is, told the entire school that she and Patrick had slept together the same night Averly slept with him. The same night he promised he was in love with her.

  It was terrible, and I think, in a way, Averly never really recovered from it, which is why I’m stunned into silence at her confession. In Everton, high school grudges last a lifetime.

  “Anyway, Jessica admitted that Harris confronted Patrick after you found out what he had done. They got into a fight, where Harris told him that the only reason he wanted to join the bet was to break it up. He figured if he won, they would put it to rest.”

  None of this makes sense. I shake my head. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he hated that people in this town used your private life as a joke, or even worse, as a way to climb in their career,” Faith explains with an apologetic grimace.

  “But…” I close my eyes.

  “It’s all true. What Harris told Faith matches with what Jessica told Averly,” Abbie reasons.

  “Why would Jessica tell you the truth?” I look at Averly.

  “Why would she lie in order to get you and Harris back together?” Averly throws back. It’s true that for the last month and a half, Jessica has done everything in her power to tear Harris and me apart. I wonder if what I told her about being Patrick’s puppet got to her.

  “We just want you to be happy.” Averly stands from her seat and kneels in front of me, pulling me into a hug.

  “And Harris makes you happy,” Faith adds as she and Abbie come to hug me, too.

  I take in their warmth, allowing it to thaw me enough to think clearly. This is insane. Why hadn’t I heard about Harris’s fight with Patrick? It’s not as if the town wouldn’t be talking about it. Although, I know that deep down, I’ve been avoiding anything to do with Harris and wouldn’t have listened if someone tried to tell me.

  My friends pull away, and I look at Faith in the eyes. “Do you believe him?” She was the one that spoke to him directly, and I trust her judgment of people. She could always pick up if someone is lying.

  “Completely. He looked distraught, yet when he told me what had happened, a glimmer of hope appeared on his face. He also had a bruise on his jaw, which I now assume is from his fight with Patrick.”

  I nod and take a deep breath. “Thank you.” I squeeze her hand and offer a tight smile.

  “You don’t have to thank us,” Faith shakes her head. “You’d do the same for us.”

  I nod because I would do anything for my friends.

  “Are you going to talk to him then?” Abbie smiles with bright eyes.

  “I guess I should.”

  “You definitely should,” Faith agrees, nodding.

  “Don’t tell me you had him come also.” I shake my head.

  “No, we didn’t go that far,�
�� Averly laughs. “Although we did consider it.” She points at me.

  I offer a small smile. “I’ll talk to him, but first show me these paint colors you’re thinking of using for each room.”

  My friends squeal and hug me before we make our way around the house as Averly holds different paint swatches against the walls of the rooms. It feels good to spend time with them, all of us supporting one another no matter what comes our way. I’m grateful to have such amazing friends.

  Harris

  I rub my bruised jaw and look at my phone for the fiftieth time in the last thirty minutes. Faith told me she was going to talk to Poppy, and I keep expecting Poppy to call. I went around this the wrong way. I should’ve explained to her what I was doing, why I was doing it. Every time I’d see Patrick out, my anger would intensify. I had to know how this whole bet thing worked, the reason behind it. Why Poppy out of all the women in this town?

  They’re bastards.

  I make my way through the grocery store, placing what I need into my basket. These last couple of weeks have been miserable. I miss Poppy. I miss her mindless chatter, her quirks, her random knowledge about things no one else would really know or care about. I miss her smile and her laughter. God, I miss her.

  I look at the jerky stand and walk away. Every time I see that stand, it reminds me of Poppy. The way she walked up to me as if I was her boyfriend. Who would’ve thought then that I would have been in a relationship with her, and messed it up?

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I reach for it, hoping that it’s Poppy, or maybe Faith with some kind of update.

  “Hey,” I say when I see it’s Matthew Barber, a friend and one of Hollywood’s biggest stars.

  “Hey, man. How are you doing? I just spoke to Knox, and he told me you’re going through a tough time.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Tinley and I are on our way down to Everton from Montana. We wanted to see Knox play tonight.”

  “Hi, Harris,” Tinley’s voice sings through the speaker.