In Real Life

by Jessica Love

  “So, where is Casa de Cooper?”

  The view from this side is different. Lights and buildings and cars stretch out on both sides of us when we are facing the Strip. There are still lights here, but the view is darker. Less dramatic. Normal. The Strip’s frenetic energy isn’t all Las Vegas has to offer. Las Vegas Boulevard isn’t Nick’s Vegas. This is.

  He points off into the distance to a spattering of lights. “I’m right over there. Obviously, if it were daytime, you could see it all better.”

  I warm at the thought of seeing Nick’s house, where he sits at his computer and chats with me while he works on his homework. Where he flops down on his bed and talks to me until all hours of the night. “I always picture your house in my head when you tell me stories. I’d love to see how the real thing compares.”

  He clears his throat. “Well, Alex is having some people over tomorrow for a barbecue. It’s his friend’s birthday,” he says, his voice tentative. “You should come.”

  I turn from the view and back toward Nick to find him staring at me. His eyes wide behind his black-framed glasses, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted slightly. He’s looking at me in this way that’s so different from any way he has since I saw him for the first time. The expression reminds me of his voice soft on the phone late at night, whispered secrets, and inside jokes.

  The air between us is charged and crackling, like neon lights on a casino sign. I want to smile at him, but I can’t. I can only stare back.

  He squeezes my hand in his, and I squeeze in return. He loosens his grip and I think he’s going to pull his hand away, put it in his pocket, take it back. But instead he straightens out his fingers and finds mine, lacing our fingers together.

  I pull his hand close to mine with my fingers. I can’t even pretend this is innocent anymore.

  What now?

  What will happen if he leans closer? If he tries to kiss me?

  What if he doesn’t?

  This is such a perfect time for a kiss. Alone, on top of Las Vegas, nights and lights and city stretching out ahead of us. Me wrapped in his jacket, him close enough it would take only the smallest movement to make full contact. Nick, the guy who has been in the background of everything important in my life for the past four years, the guy I can’t stand to lose.

  He lied to me, and I was hurt. But I lied, too. I lied to myself about my feelings, and I lied to him about them, too.

  If I want him to give us a chance, I need to tell him the truth, and I need to do it now.

  I move closer. It’s just a millimeter, the tiniest scoot forward. But he notices, and his eyes move from mine and slowly travel up and down my body. He chews on his bottom lip.

  Oh my God, he’s thinking about it. He wants this, too. I know it.

  If Nick were a normal guy, if he were Josh Ahmed, I would just lean forward, close the space, and put my lips gently on his. I wouldn’t have to say any words to tell him how I feel about him.

  But Nick isn’t a normal guy. He’s the guy.

  But—Frankie.

  Do I want to kiss a guy with a girlfriend? Do I want to break that rule? Be that girl? Do I want to turn Nick into that guy?

  I bite my lip, and I move back that millimeter. We’re too close, and we both want this too much.

  Nick shakes his head almost imperceptibly and pulls me close using our intertwined hands, right up against him. He wraps his free arm behind the small of my back and eases me into him. But not for a kiss. He pulls me in and my head rests on his chest and his chin rests lightly on my head. He untangles our fingers and now his free hand is on my head, pressing it closer into him, stroking my hair.

  “I never thought I would get this,” he says quietly.

  Now is my chance. “Nick, I—”

  “Ghost, I need to tell you something.” He blurts it out, like if he doesn’t come out and say it, it will just wither up and die inside him.

  “Me, too. Nick, here’s the thing—”

  “It’s Frankie.”

  My heart sinks. It nose-dives off the side of the Eiffel Tower. I thought this moment was about me, us, but it’s not. It’s about her. It’s been about her since I got here.

  I can’t say anything. I don’t want to know where this is going. I grip the sweatshirt on his back tight in my fingers and squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for whatever he has to say.

  “I started dating her because of Alex,” he says after what seems like forever. “She was at this party and we had seen her around and Alex was totally into her, but she wasn’t interested in him. At all. He’s way too old for her, and she thinks he’s a total douche. But she liked me, Ghost. She met us both and didn’t like Alex and she liked me, and I was—” He cuts himself off, and I can feel his heart beating fast, so fast, under his shirt.

  He pulls away from me. Not too much, and he doesn’t let me go. Just backs up enough to look at me. “You’ve met her. Frankie is something special, you know? She’s … she’s amazing, Ghost. She’s smart and funny and driven and she gets me. I’ve never had a girlfriend like her before, and part of the reason I didn’t tell you about her ever was my own dumb fear I was going to ruin things with her.” He moves one hand from my back and runs his fingers through my hair. His fingers skim the side of my face, and his thumb lingers by my cheek, moving slowly back and forth over my skin.

  “And you…” He stares at me and I stare at him, frozen, with handfuls of his sweatshirt still in the tight grip of my fingers. I know what he almost says. And you rejected me. And you told me it would never happen.

  “I know things have been weird tonight, and, God, I’m so sorry. That person on the phone, that’s the real me. That’s the me I am deep inside, that I can’t always manage to be in real life. I have a hard time with people sometimes, but never with you. You’re the only person who sees that version of me. The only one.” He shakes his head, as if he can make the look of frustration and sadness fly right off it. “But lately I realized I need to try to share that side of me more. So, thanks. For helping me figure that out.”

  I let go of his sweatshirt with one of my hands and reach to his neck. I pull the loop of chain with my penny hanging from it out from under his shirt. I had put the clown penny in my pocket before we left the house because I knew I would be seeing Nick in person today, but he had no idea I’d show up here tonight. He really likes Frankie, but he wears my souvenir every day, just because. I rub my thumb over the three ghosts; then I let the charm fall against his chest so my fingers are free to reach up and skim the side of his face. His cheek is the slightest bit scruffy, with rough prickles along his jawline. I let my thumb trace small circles on his skin, and my entire insides are sloshing around, up and down, back and forth, out of control.

  “Nick.” He just made it a thousand times harder for me, but I need to tell him even so. Even though he has Frankie and even though he likes her and even though he’s being the person with her he’s only ever been with me, I need to tell him. And I want him to help me figure out why his hand is on my cheek and his other hand is on my back and why he’s wearing my penny and why he’s with Frankie and why he’s looking at me like that and why he’s not kissing me right now, when his phone buzzes and my phone buzzes at the same time.

  We jump apart and pull our phones from our pockets on impulse and just like that the spell is broken.

  CHAPTER

  20

  My text is from Lo: WHOLE GANG BACK 2GETHER, HEADING 2 PH. PROGRESS?

  I assume Nick’s text is from Frankie, but I’m sure it doesn’t say the same thing. I do imagine it has tons of exclamation points, though.

  “Well, it looks like everyone is going to the bar at Planet Hollywood,” he says. He sounds as dazed as I feel.

  “What? A club?” No. The girls promised no clubs.

  “Frankie has this friend who bartends over there. And it’s not a club, don’t worry. That wedding was more of a club than this is.” He slides his phone back in his pocket. “Wait. You don’t have an ID.
We need IDs or they’ll kick us out.”

  Maybe I’ll tell him I don’t have one, so we can stay up here at the top of Vegas, or find something else to do, just the two of us. I want to recapture that moment we were having a second ago, or that moment on the dance floor. Moments that felt like our phone calls, but better. There’s no way to get those moments back and say what we need to say at some loud bar with six other people.

  And his girlfriend.

  I don’t have to tell him anything, though. His phone beeps with another text. “Lo told Frankie you guys got fake IDs on the way out here.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Seriously? Hannah Cho, straight-A student, got an illegal fake ID?”

  I groan. I’m going to murder Lo for this. “It was Lo’s idea. She took us to this shady parking lot in the middle of nowhere and bought us IDs from a guy in a pedo van. All in the name of adventure.”

  “Well,” he says, a devious-looking half-smile spreading across his face. “Looks like we’ll be breaking the law together, tonight. Partners in crime. Literally.”

  I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go, I think, but I don’t say that. Instead I say, “You have Alex’s old ID, right?”

  “Yup.” He laughs a humorless laugh. “Aka his leftovers. As usual.”

  We’re back in the elevator and this time I clutch his arm as we zoom down. I don’t know why we’re leaving. I guess we both know we’re on dangerous ground, but I’m not sure how much I mind being there. I know I chickened out big-time on my chance to tell him the truth, but our moment has me feeling more confident now. I can do this. I grip his arm without realizing it, and I can feel him start to pull away, then change his mind and relax into me. While the ride up felt like a trip to the moon, the ride down is over in seconds. Too quickly, the door slides open, and I resist the impulse to send the elevator back up, and reluctantly let go of Nick’s arm instead.

  Planet Hollywood is right next to Paris, so we’re there pretty quickly, no cab needed. The entire walk, I suppress my urge to reach over and grab his hand again, touch him more. Now that we’re on solid ground, I don’t have the height or the elevator or even the magic of the Eiffel Tower Experience as an excuse for physical contact. Plus, his hands are deep in his pants pockets.

  I try to come up with a way to bring us back around to our earlier conversation, so I can finish what I started to say and just get it out there already. My mind races with everything said and unsaid between us, but I can’t manage to get any of those thoughts out of my mouth.

  God, I’m just as bad at life as he is.

  “Oh,” I manage to spit out as we walk up the steps leading to PH. “Your jacket. I should give this back to you.”

  He pulls his hand out of his pocket and reaches it in my direction, then stuffs it back in again, and I swear I see everything that passed between us on the top of the Eiffel Tower reflected back at me in his face. “You don’t want to keep it on?” His voice is quiet.

  “Well, I do.…” I trail off. “I mean, it’s warm. But I think it might look weird if I wear it in here. You know.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He says it like he got temporary amnesia and forgot his perfect girlfriend existed.

  I shrug out of the jacket and hand it back to him. I don’t want to. I’d rather stay in Nick’s jacket even if it’s a million degrees inside this bar. And knowing Frankie, she’d probably go on and on about how nice her boyfriend is for giving his jacket to me when I’m cold. Yup, he’s a real saint.

  We walk through the sliding doors and into the casino. It’s more crowded now that it’s late at night, full of people dressed in their Vegas best, ready to party. I spot our group right as we walk in, including Grace and Alex, who must have decided they weren’t too cool to keep hanging out with us youngsters. They’re right past the burger place, gathered around a long, waist-high table on our left-hand side that is covered in glasses.

  “Is this the bar?” It’s a dumb question. There is definitely a counter with two guys behind it pouring drinks, and our friends are clearly drinking. But I haven’t seen this part of the casino yet, and I guess when he said “bar,” I was picturing something different, like a bar on TV with wood paneling and beer signs and pool tables. Not this open area in the middle of the casino floor that doesn’t even have walls.

  “Yeah.” He points to the small stage area where a drum kit and a guitar are sitting alone. “They have a cover band play here sometimes.”

  “I was expecting something more … like a bar,” I admit.

  “They have another one over in the middle that kinda has walls, if that’s more up to your standards, Miss Bar Expert. Maybe we can go over there in a bit.”

  “I’m not looking for anything, smart-ass.” I give him a playful shove on the arm, and then pull my hand back quickly when I realize what I’ve done. “You sure know a lot about this place for someone who doesn’t come to the Strip much.”

  He shrugs. “Frankie.”

  “Hey, you guys!” Lo yells as soon as she sees us. She leaves the table and runs up, throwing her arms around my neck. “We’re hanging out at a bar! In Las Vegas! For spring break! With a band! And a girl with tons of hookups! I feel like I’m in the best movie ever!”

  I untangle myself from her arms. “Someone’s been hitting the bottle.”

  “Frankie’s bartender friend bought us all shots! Can you believe that? I took a shot, Hannah!” Lo drinks at the parties we go to at home, but it’s always warm keg beer, a wine cooler, or some sort of mixed concoction. I go immediately into Mom mode, which is my normal role with Lo in social situations. “What did you take a shot of?” Like I know the difference between alcohols. “Did you have one right now? What else are you drinking?”

  “Take it easy, control freak.” She pulls me toward the group by the hem of my shirt. Nick is there already, greeting everyone. “I want to hear what happened at the top of the Eiffel Tower, you sneaky girl. And I need to tell you what happened while you were gone.”

  I lean into her ear to share some part of our moment from the top of Las Vegas with her. But when I lean forward, I focus on Nick. Frankie jumps up and down when she sees him, and she stands on her tiptoes, throws her arms tightly around his neck, and kisses him.

  “Ew,” Lo says.

  I turn around before I have to see any more. “I can’t,” I spit out. “I can’t do this. Come with me.”

  I wave to everyone crowded around the table, but I notice Frankie is still wrapped around Nick’s waist. “Lo and I are going to run upstairs to the room to get my hoodie. Grace, do you need anything from the room?”

  The look on Grace’s face tells me the only thing she needs is Alex’s tongue down her throat, so I grab Lo’s arm and pull her through the casino toward the elevators, as far away from Nick and Frankie as my legs will take me.

  CHAPTER

  21

  “So, what happened?” Lo asks as soon as the elevator doors slide shut. “Did you guys make out or what?”

  “He has a girlfriend. That fact didn’t change in the hour we were gone.”

  “Did he tell you why he lied about her?”

  “Kinda. But we didn’t get a chance to talk about—”

  “Were you too busy drooling all over each other?”

  “Do you want me to tell you this story, or do you want to make the whole thing up yourself?” I don’t mean to snap at her. I know she’s been drinking, and she rarely makes sense after half a cup of whatever her beverage of choice may be. “I’m sorry, I’m just annoyed by this whole situation.”

  We arrive on our floor and head to our room, where I fill her in on what happened between me and Nick: wedding crashing, jacket wearing, hand holding, hugging, touching, and all. I dig my hoodie out of my bag and brush my teeth since we’re here and I could use some freshening up.

  “Wow,” she says. She’s bracing herself on the side of the bed like she might slide off, so I pour some water into one of the glasses in the bathroom and bring it to her.r />
  “Drink,” I say.

  She chugs the water, but only half the glass makes it into her mouth. The rest dribbles down her chin and pools on the front of her shirt. “It sounds like you guys had a moment.”

  “We did. But then you guys texted and we had to leave and meet up with you. I didn’t want to. But he didn’t seem to care, since he had no problem letting Frankie surgically attach herself to him downstairs.” I sit down next to her, and then collapse flat back onto the bed. “I don’t know what to think, Lo. I had so many chances to tell him how I felt and I just couldn’t. I’m such a freaking coward.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “He’s been my best friend for four years. We talk every day. But it’s not the same here. It’s like he’s the same person, but totally different.”

  Lo collapses next to me on the bed. “I know it sucks, and I wish I knew what to tell you. I think he’s embarrassed. And confused. We showed up out of the blue, you know? It’s a shock. And he seems to be pretty awkward in general.”

  “I know.” I curl myself up in a ball. “I want to go back in time so this never happened. Our friendship is never going to be the same after this.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing.” Lo starts rubbing my back, which is ironic because she’s the drunk one. “I know I said you needed to tell him how you feel, but maybe you needed to come here to end this friendship, not take it to the next level. I know you’d never be happy if you were always wondering what-if about Nick. You don’t have to wonder what-if anymore. Now you know. He lied to you and he has a girlfriend. You know what-if. Now you can move on.”

  Lo’s words hurt like blunt force trauma to the head. So much so that I scoot myself away from her hand on my back, but I let what she said turn over in my mind as I lie there.

  “Okay,” she says, hopping off the bed. “Put on your hoodie. Let’s go.”

  “Mnph,” I mumble into the pillow. “Staying here. Giving up on this sucky night.”

  “Oh no, you’re not.” She pulls at my leg. “Get up right now.”

  “What’s the point? Nick has a girlfriend.”