My Fake Valentine

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My Fake Valentine Page 5

by Kellie McAllen


  “Yeah, I did it first so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I’m gonna practice my sax for an hour, and then I can do whatever.”

  I roll my eyes at her. She sounds like a middle-aged woman. “Okay, Miss Responsible. You forgot one thing on your agenda, though.”

  Her face puckers up as she tries to figure out what she’s missing, and I reach out and dig my fingers into her sides. “Tickle time!”

  She shrieks and squirms and jumps up out of her chair, and I chase her around her room. As soon as I catch her, I toss her on the bed and tickle her some more till she’s giggling so hard she can’t breathe, her face is pink, and tears are running down her cheeks.

  “You’re the worst brother ever!” she whines.

  “What?! I think you’ve got that backwards, kiddo. What you meant to say was I’m the coolest brother ever. Even cooler than you know who.” I point to the poster over her bed then wiggle my fingers at her, and she yelps again.

  “Do you want me to stop?” She nods, too out of breath to speak.

  “Say the magic words, then!” I leer, hovering over her, and bring my hands in like I’m going to tickle her again.

  “Okay, okay! My brother is cooler than Justin Bieber!” she hollers, and I pull my hands away and pretend to toss my hair.

  “All right, then. Now that my coolness has been established, I’m gonna go finish my homework.” She tosses a pillow at me as I leave, and I can’t help but smile, feeling a little better.

  My math book is still open on the desk, taunting me, and I think about ignoring it, but as soon as I pull out my phone, I see all the texts I haven’t responded to from friends who want to know the whole story. I have no idea what to say to them, so I just toss the phone on my bed and go back to my homework. I can’t blow this off any longer.

  The math is still a complete mystery to me, so I pull out a history assignment, instead. That one is a little bit easier, and I can Google most of the answers, so I focus on that for a while. I actually finish the whole assignment, and I’m starting to feel better about things till I switch over to my English assignment. Crap on a cracker.

  I’ve got a research paper due in a week, and I was supposed to have turned in an eight-page rough draft already. I drop my head on my desk with a thunk and then do it a couple more times hoping, I don’t know, maybe I’ll knock myself unconscious or something.

  I remember picking out a topic a while back — the benefits of weight training versus aerobics, and I printed out a bunch of random articles about it, and I think I even started an outline, but that was as far as I got. Where is that stuff? I dig through my bag and find it crumpled up at the bottom. I’ve got, like, two points written down on the outline, and I need about a dozen.

  I groan and decide to stretch out on my bed as I start flipping through the articles, but half an hour later the papers are on the floor and I’m snoozing. The next thing I know, my alarm is ringing, and I’m no farther along with my paper than I was yesterday. I’m so mad at myself I want to punch something. I grab the papers and shove them back in my backpack and promise myself I’ll skip lunch to work on it.

  My phone buzzes, and when I pick it up I have a bunch more text messages, so I finally decide to send the same bogus answer to all of them, telling them that I’ve been slacking on my homework and Dillard threatened to kick me off the team if I didn’t pull my grades up, and I was really busy catching up.

  I plaster on a fake smile and try to act like nothing’s bothering me, and I think most people buy it. I pretend to be extra happy when I spot Chloe, purposely ignoring her and blowing a kiss at Mia. Chloe gives Mia the stink eye, and I worry for a minute that she might go bother her, but Mia just walks right past her like she’s scenery, and I chuckle. Not too many people can resist the pull of Chloe’s magnetic personality.

  I stay after class each period to talk to the rest of my teachers about extra credit, and most of them act offended that I’m bothering to ask them for help. I get several lectures about how I can’t expect to do nothing all year and then make it all up with a few extra credit assignments. For some reason, my charm doesn’t work as well on teachers as it does on my classmates.

  My nerves are shot from all the stress, and I give Coach until the end of the morning before I head to his office, desperate for some good news. He’s drinking coffee and eating a donut, and powdered sugar is coating his lips and sprinkled all over the front of his polo. I rap on the open door and poke my head in.

  “Hey Coach, how’s it going?” I give him a killer smile, hoping to remind him how much he likes me.

  “Hey Meyers, I got good news for you!” He runs his tongue around his lips, licking them clean, then looks down and notices all the sugar on his shirt. He gives it a shake then wipes at it with the napkin.

  My heart starts thumping. “You talked to Dillard?”

  “It took some doing. That guy’s a real piece of work. Doesn’t have any idea how big of a deal athletics are around here and no clue how much of that is down to you, but I tried to talk some sense into him.” He scowls and shakes his head, and I’m not sure what that means. I thought he said he had good news?

  “Practically had to offer him a kidney to get him to give you another chance. You owe me for this, kid. From now on, I own your ass.” Coach points a sugary finger at me.

  I cock my head and raise an eyebrow, grinning. “So, does that mean I’m still on the team?”

  He nods and sucks the sugar off his fingers. I heave a giant sigh and throw my head back, running my hands through my hair. “Thank God.”

  “On one condition.” He interrupts my moment of nirvana. “You have to get a tutor, and you have to turn in your research paper and your history project by the end of the week. If you do that, you can keep playing, but if you miss any more assignments or fail any tests, you’re off the team for good.”

  “Okay, no problem,” I say confidently even though that is definitely still a huge problem. How the heck am I going to manage all that? I gulp and salute him then head to my locker.

  On the way, I see the dork that took my picture yesterday. Probably the same one who posted that article. “Hey, you! Camera nerd!” I holler, and he turns and looks at me.

  I stalk up to him and back him against a locker, slamming my arms up on either side of him and hovering over him with a scowl. A few people are watching, but that’s all the better. I’m not gonna hurt him, just make it clear that you don’t mess with me.

  “I told you to delete that picture, not post it, and that article is total crap. Who was your ‘anonymous source’? Chloe? You need to get your facts straight before you post stuff you don’t know anything about. That’s like, defamation of character, or something. I could sue you for that. You need to take it down and post a new article telling people you got it wrong. You got it?”

  I’m seriously impressed with myself for coming up with that defamation stuff, and hopefully I’ve scared him enough he’ll do what I want.

  He sticks his hands up and gawks at me behind big glasses. “Ss..sorry, Austin. I didn’t mean… I never… Everybody was talking about it already.” I scowl some more, and he winces like I’m squeezing his nuts. “I promise I’ll post a retraction this afternoon.”

  “You do that.” I pound the locker with a fist and walk away.

  I already told my friends I wasn’t going out to eat with them, saying I needed to do some makeup work, so instead I walk to the library. I know there’s a table hidden behind a row of shelves, and I head for it, hoping I’ll be able to focus better if I can’t see what’s going on in the hallway outside the glass doors. I skid to a stop when I turn the corner and see that somebody’s already sitting there — Mia.

  Chapter Eight

  Mia

  Why did I think I could pull this off? This is such a stupid idea! My confidence drops like Miley Cyrus’ popularity when I get to school and see all the people that Austin normally hangs out with. Why did I think a nice shirt and some eyeliner would make m
e fit in with them? I am obviously a total poser. Plus, I really don’t know how to walk in these wedge heel boots, and I’m at risk of tripping and falling flat on my face any second.

  The only tiny bright spot is when Austin sees me in the hallway and blows me a kiss. There’s no physical contact, but I still feel a little rush that carries me down the hallway. I get to my next class and realize I don’t even remember walking there, I was too busy daydreaming.

  I don’t see him the rest of the morning, though, and my day gets even worse when Kerri tells me she has an appointment during lunch. That would be no problem if Austin had asked me to eat lunch with him like I thought he might, but he’s nowhere to be found. I chicken out and go to my favorite table in the library where I can work on the homework I didn’t do last night. I’ll still look like a loser, but doing homework in the library during lunch is not quite as humiliating as sitting alone in the cafeteria. Although it’s kind of a toss up.

  The sun comes in softly through giant, clouded windows, creating a cozy nook for me, surrounded by books, which are a lot easier to make friends with than people are. I’m halfway through my sandwich and algebra homework, and I’ve just about distracted myself from thoughts of Austin, when he appears in front of me like some kind of magical genie, and I just about choke on my peanut butter.

  “Austin! What are you doing here?” I yell at him and immediately feel like an idiot. If I’m trying to make him want to spend more time with me, that’s a terrible way to start.

  He grins and ducks his head, and it’s kind of adorable. Ugh! Why does he have to be so cute? He pulls out a chair and sits down, plopping a heavy book bag on the desk like I gave him an invitation, invading my space with his hunky body, his stuff, and his sexy scent. He smells like sandalwood, musk, and the ocean all mixed together, but I’m pretty sure it’s just Abercrombie and Fitch cologne.

  “I have a crap ton of work I have to catch up on if I’m going to stay on the basketball team.” He sighs and runs a hand through his golden hair, messing it up, but it still looks great. Jerk. When I do that I look like I have bedhead.

  “I thought they kicked you off already.” I regret the words as soon as they come out. What is wrong with me? Usually, I’m the queen at keeping my thoughts to myself. At home, negative opinions are never welcome and usually lead to annoying lectures about proper social behavior for members of Hollywood society. There’s just something about Austin that brings out the real me.

  He smirks, too cocky to take my bluntness as an insult. “Well, Coach pulled some strings for me and got Dillard to agree to let me keep playing as long as I get these projects done. Oh, and I have to get a tutor.” He rolls his eyes, and my own eyes spark.

  This is what Kerri was talking about! It’s the perfect opportunity for me to offer my services in exchange for certain… benefits. Hehe. That sounds naughty, but you know what I mean. I open my mouth, but I can’t seem to get those words to come out, despite my earlier bout of verbal diarrhea.

  Before I can figure out the words, Austin interrupts my thoughts with a question of his own. “What are you doing here? Do you always eat lunch by yourself in the library?”

  My jaw flops open. Okay, now I’m offended. “No! I’m not that big of a loser!” Of course, my next words contradict that. “I usually sit with my friend, Kerri, but she had an appointment today.”

  Austin raises an eyebrow at me, and I’m sure he’s thinking something like, “You only have one friend?” which is kinda true, but not really as bad as it sounds. Kerri likes to say that she’s so awesome, she’s the only friend I need.

  I offer up another excuse. “Plus I didn’t finish my homework last night, and I wanted to get it done before next period, so…” I wave a hand over my homework then let it flop back down to the desk. I’m not sure that really helped, but it was his excuse for being here, so maybe.

  He fingers my books with a thoughtful look on his face but quickly hides it.

  “So, what were you doing last night instead of your homework?” He smirks like he’s expecting an interesting answer, and I stutter. I can’t very well tell him I was picking out clothes and practicing my makeup skills hoping to impress him today.

  “Uh, just, uh, hanging out with friends.” If stalking their online profiles counts. He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe me for a minute.

  “Oh yeah? Who are your friends? Anybody I know?”

  Seriously? Can’t he just let it go? I roll my eyes at him. “We don’t really run in the same circles, Austin.”

  “Yeah, I guess not.” He looks me up and down like he’s assessing me, and my stomach rolls, knowing that he probably finds me seriously lacking.

  “So, what kind of work do you need to catch up on?” I blurt out, trying to take the spotlight off my nonexistent social life.

  “All of it.” He groans and opens his bag, dumping out a pile of books. Wow. We’re in the same grade, but he’s taking a lot lower classes than I am, and he’s still failing them? He really does need a tutor.

  This is my chance; the opportunity is practically knocking the door down, begging me to take it. I open my mouth, but once again I can’t get the words to come out. He starts talking before I do, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Hey Mia, Dillard said I had to get a tutor if I wanted to stay on the team. Have you… I mean, would you… uh… Do you think you could tutor me?”

  His lapse of confidence makes him suddenly less intimidating, and damn if he isn’t cute when he’s flustered. I narrow my eyes at him, finally feeling like I have the upper hand in this conversation.

  “You can’t tell anybody, though. Seriously. This whole rumor has been bad enough for my rep. Plus, breaking up with Chloe.” He shakes his head then rubs his face with his hands.

  “Were you really into her?” I can’t tell if he’s upset about losing her or just about getting dumped, and I don’t want to make my offer till I know. I can’t very well ask him to pretend to be into me if he’s still into her.

  He shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like I was in love with her or anything. We’ve been going out for a while, and she’s cool. But she could be a real bitch, too, you know?”

  “Then why did you stay with her for so long?” I can’t resist asking even though it’s kind of rude and none of my business.

  “Well, she’s sexy as hell.” He laughs and wiggles his eyebrows, smirking, and I cringe. That is one thing I’m definitely not.

  “I don’t know. It just made sense, I guess. I’m the captain of the football team, she’s the head cheerleader. We’re both—”

  “Really popular?” I say, kind of snarky. I want to say “really gorgeous” too, but I don’t want to embarrass myself.

  He grins at me. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  And that’s my cue. I put my hands on the desk and take a deep breath to fortify myself. “I’ll tutor you, Austin, and I won’t tell anyone, but I want something out of it.”

  “Oh sure, yeah. I can pay.” He pulls out his wallet and I slap a hand over his. I’m distracted for a minute by the feel of his warm skin under mine, but then I yank my hand away and shake my head.

  “I don’t want your money, Austin.”

  He grunts. “Yeah, I suppose you’ve got plenty of that. You probably live in a mansion or something. So, what do you want?”

  Oh man, this is really humiliating. I open and close my mouth, but I still don’t know how to say this without totally embarrassing myself. I cover my face with my hands, take a big sigh, then drop my hands and just blurt it out.

  “I want you to be my boyfriend for Valentine’s Day. I mean, pretend to!” I laugh nervously, loudly, and gesture erratically with my hands. “You don’t have to actually like me, like, like me-like me. I mean, it’s not like you can make yourself like someone, right? I just want people to think you like me, and then maybe some of your popularity will rub off on me, cuz I’m, like, a total nobody. And I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but I’d really like to have one fo
r Valentine’s Day, and maybe if you pretend to like me, other guys might actually like me, and—” Oh my God, somebody stop me! The words keep spewing from my mouth like word vomit, and Austin is looking at me like I’ve gone insane.

  “Mia.” He grabs a hold of my hands and pins them to the table under his. My face looks like a tomato, I’m sure, and I can’t even hide behind my hands, but I drop my head and stare at the table, wishing I could just slide under it and disappear into a black hole.

  “Okay.”

  I jump up and grab my stuff, shoving my books in my backpack. “I’m sorry. Just forget everything I just said. Forget we even had this conversation. I’ll just leave now—”

  “Mia, I said okay.” He grabs my arm and swings me around, and I stop talking and gawk at him.

  “Okay? As in, you’ll do it?”

  He nods. “Yeah, why not? I like you, Mia. I mean, maybe not like you-like you—” he teases, his face curled up in a big smile.

  “Shut up.” I slug him in the arm.

  “But it’ll be a good excuse for why we’re spending so much time together. Everybody already thinks we’re a thing, so why not?”

  My first instinct is to explain all the reasons why I’m not cool enough and why he shouldn’t want to be my boyfriend, not even a pretend one, but somehow I manage to keep my mouth shut this time.

  He winks and says, “So, your place or mine?”

  Chapter Nine

  Austin

  The guys are going to be so jealous when I tell them where I’m going. And Chloe. Definitely Chloe. When she gets wind of this, she’ll be seething. Chloe likes to think she’s a celebrity, and maybe she is around school, but Mia’s family is the real deal.

 

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