The Fake Girlfriend Rules

by Penny Wylder

  We can be friends. We can even be friends with benefits. Lust is just lust. Two people can share each other and still maintain the baseline. It doesn't have to be complicated. We don't have to think more about it than what it is.

  It's like wanting dessert and denying yourself. Starving yourself just leads to binge eating. Why torture yourself at all?

  Lyllian and I are mature adults who know how to keep feelings out of this. There's nothing wrong with giving in occasionally, so you can have your cake and eat it too. Just eat the damn cupcake.

  Friends can be friends.

  Sex can be sex. . .

  Until it can't.

  7

  Lyllian

  “Wish me luck,” I say as my fingers dangle in his.

  “I'll do you one better than that.” Doug leans in, giving me a deep and passionate kiss. “You've got this, just be yourself,” he says.

  I wish I was as confident in myself as he is in me. It's hard to see your own value. I've never been good at it. But Doug has always been good at making me feel worthy of what I deserve.

  The butterflies I feel turn into a swarm as I stand outside the conference room door. Hesitantly, I knock softly on the open door as I peer inside.

  Eileen lifts her head up from the long, mahogany table, and gives me the same smile she gave me last night. I didn't expect this. I guess inside I thought work Eileen would be ruthless as a bear, and stern as a queen ruling over her kingdom.

  “Oh, you're here!” she calls out as her small, frail, seventy-year-old frame jumps up from her seat. She clasps her hands in front of her chest, her smile broadening. “I wasn't sure how you were going to feel about this. How do you feel, dear?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I wouldn't want to hear anything else.”

  “Nervous but excited.”

  “Those are the best feelings to have. Your nerves will keep you on your toes, but your excitement will keep you driven to excel and rise above.” She gives me another warm smile, then waves her arm toward the table. “Come take a seat, I don't want to leave you wondering what you're even interviewing for.”

  “Yeah, I think that'd be good to know. I appreciate this though, I really do.”

  She shakes her head as she cleans up the area in front of her. “Well, you made a great impression last night, and I just left thinking I had to have you on my team. But nothing is set in stone, even if I like you as a person. I still need to make sure you'll be a good fit.”

  “Of course, I'd expect nothing less.”

  “Good, let's get started, shall we?”

  “Well?” he asks as I come out of the interview.

  His eyes are big as the moon, pupils black as night. He looks more nervous than I did before I went into the interview. There's impatience in his tone as he tilts his head and rolls a single finger for me to spit it out already before he goes nuts.

  My lips are thin, and I have no expression on my face. Folding my mouth down, I shrug a limp shoulder. As I exhale a slow, defeated breath, I say, “Well—”

  “Oh no, did it not go good?” he asks, cutting me off. His eyes turn from worry into sadness. He takes a step in, cupping my elbows with his hands, and softly caressing me with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, Lyl. I really thought you had this in the bag.”

  “Yeah, well, you should be sorry, because now you'll have to see me the entire time you're working on Eileen's movie.”

  “Wait, you got the job?” he asks, arching a high brow.

  I nod excitedly. “I got the job!”

  He gives me a playful push and turns away from me. “You suck, you really had me going. I honestly thought you didn't get it.”

  “I know, I got you good.” I bite my tongue and smile.

  Doug lunges at me and starts to tickle my ribs. “I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you let me think you didn't get it. Is it still funny? Huh? Still think you're a comedian now?”

  I'm laughing hard, trying to block him and push him away. “Stop! No more!” I call out between laughs. “Mercy, mercy,” I say, attempting to back away as I swat wildly at his hands.

  “Say I win.”

  “What? No way. What are you, twelve?”

  “Say it. Say I win.” He keeps digging his fingertips into my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

  “All right, all right, you win, just stop tickling me.” I wave the white flag, giving in. I can't take it. I hate being tickled, and he knows it.

  Doug throws his arms up and pumps them in the air. “Hell yeah, I win.”

  “You're suck a dork.”

  He chuckles. “I still win. You said it yourself.” Running his hand through his hair, he grips the back of his neck. “Well then, I think this is cause for celebration.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Of course, it is. I won, you got the job, now we need to go celebrate. Come on, I've got just the place in the mind.”

  I follow him as he starts walking. “Where are we going?”

  “Some place fun.”

  “That could be anywhere.”

  “Could be, but it isn't. This is a particular place you love.”

  Veering my stare, I purse my lips. “Is it Gelina's Ice Cream? Because I love that place. They have the best peanut butter cup ice cream.”

  “No, but we can go there after, if you want. This is your night.”

  “How far is this place?” I ask. “I am in heels, you know.”

  “Not far, it's only a few blocks away.” He reaches back and takes my hand, pulling me to his side. “We're going to have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

  We walk hand in hand. He's swinging my arm back and forth as he tugs me along. “We're not far now, it's right around the corner,” he says.

  “Oh shit, I know what it is,” I say excitedly. “I know exactly what place it is.”

  “What is it?”

  “Rocky Point Park.”

  We take the corner and his eyes gleam. “Bingo.”

  The arch for the entrance is engulfed in bright spotlights. I can hear the music from the live band playing on the stage, and the sound of kids screaming on the rides. The ferris wheel is spinning slowly in the distance, bright as the north star in the sky.

  Instantly, I'm taken back decades. Back to being a teenager. Back to when we used to hang out here in the summer as kids. This place has so many memories for me. My dad used to get tickets from his work every summer.

  We used to go as a family, then as I got older and things changed, he'd just give me the tickets and I'd go with my friends. Or just Doug, sometimes it was just the two of us, and that was always fine with me.

  With Doug there was never any drama. He was, and still is, a guy who just likes to have a good time. It's one of the things I love about him. He finds a positive in a negative, and that makes anything better.

  “Wow, I haven't been here in years.”

  “I know, me either. It's kind of sad. I mean, we drive by it every day, and it's like we forgot all about it. Barely giving it a second glance. It's like a billboard you see so much that you don't even know it exists anymore.”

  “I can smell the fries and dough boys from here. I forgot how incredible that smell is.”

  “And the beer. Come on, let's go enjoy ourselves.”

  He pays for our tickets, and as we walk beneath the giant arch, it's like I went back in time. I feel sixteen again. I look up and see the skyline above my head. People are looking down at us and waving.

  I wave back as I say, “Do you remember when we were kids and we were up there pouring water on people as they walked under us?”

  Doug laughs and nods. “I do. I also remember dropping globs of ice cream on people too.”

  “We were terrible,” I say with a chuckle.

  “No, we were just kids. Unless you're telling me you have the urge to go do it now. Then we'd be terrible.”

  “Yeah, no, I don't think I could do that now.”

  “It was funny though. Remember the guy who
thought he had just gotten shit on by a bird or something, and he ripped off his toupee to see in a panic?”

  “Oh my God, I do!” I yell as I giggle. “And when he realized it was just us, he screamed that it was assault, and he could have us sent to jail.”

  “That's right, he did. I guess we were pretty bad, huh?”

  “No, you were right the first time. We were just kids.”

  He looks off and spots the water gun game. “You know what, I'm going to win you a stuffed animal.”

  “Sure you are.” I don't hide the sarcasm in my tone. “You used to say that all the time and I don't think you ever actually won.”

  “Well, I'm going to win today,” he says confidently.

  We walk to the booth and he pays the man two dollars. Doug picks up the water gun and aims it at the mouth of the clown.

  “No one ever wins these games, you know. They're rigged for you to lose.”

  “I do, I win. You said it yourself that I won.” He bites his tongue and smiles, bouncing his brows at me. “Maybe we should make a friendly wager?”

  “A wager?”

  “Yeah, let's bet.”

  “You really are confident. All right, what's the bet?”

  “If I lose, I'll buy you dinner tonight.”

  “All right, and if you win?”

  “If I win, I get a kiss from you.”

  Veering my stare, I think about it for a second. “All right, you're on.”

  The bell dings and he pulls the trigger. The balloon on the clown's face begins to grow. His aim is spot on, and the balloon stretches until it finally bursts with a loud pop. The light in his lane goes off, and the man working comes over and hands him a stuffed penguin.

  “Here you go,” he says, handing me his prize. “Now it's time for me to claim my reward.” He puckers his lips like a duck, closing his eyes. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hey, that's not a kiss.”

  “You never specified what type of kiss. You just said a kiss, and I gave you a kiss.”

  “You're bending the rules.”

  I shrug my shoulder. “Maybe, but the rules weren't clear. Next time make yourself clear.” I coddle the stuffed animal under my arm.

  “Well, I did prove you wrong.”

  “How so?”

  “You have the proof right there.” His eyes flick to the penguin.

  “I'm not going to say it,” I say sternly.

  “Say what?”

  “You know what.”

  “I don't, you should refresh my memory.”

  I roll my eyes and give him a sharp elbow to the ribs. “You're not getting me to say you win.”

  “Uh, but you just did!” Doug points at me as he grins.

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don't, you just hate that I win at everything.”

  I laugh and just agree sarcastically. “Right, that's it.”

  “See, now you're being honest with yourself.” He looks off behind me and smiles with clenched teeth. “I think there's a roller coaster calling our names.”

  I follow his gaze and see what used to be our favorite ride in the park. “I can't believe it's still here. You'd think that it would have been replaced by now with something bigger.”

  “Sometimes you just can't replace perfection.”

  We walk to the corkscrew roller coaster, and stand in line. Doug puts his arm around my neck and pulls me in. “This ride was always my favorite.”

  “I know, you made me ride it once a total of twelve times in one night.”

  “Yeah, and you ended up puking the last time.”

  “That's because we had just eaten clam cakes and chowder. If we had waited just a little bit like I said, the poor people behind us wouldn't have been traumatized.”

  We spend the night riding as many of the rides as we can. The bumper cars, the teacups, the musical express, even the creaky, not so scary anymore, ghost house, until we finally make our way to the ferris wheel. The staff opens the door on our box, and we get inside.

  The wheel starts to move, stopping every few feet until all the boxes are full. As it starts to finally spin, I look over at him, expecting him to be looking out at the view. But he's not. He's looking at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing, just being here brings up all kinds of memories from when we were kids. I like it, I like the memories.”

  “Me too,” I say. Unable to keep my eyes on his, I dart them out over the water. “You know. . .” I start to say but stop myself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, it's dumb, never mind.”

  “No, seriously. I want to know.”

  I turn back to look at him, and a million butterflies spill into my belly all at once. “Once, a long time ago, I almost kissed you on this ride.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.”

  “How come? I mean, what stopped you?”

  I'm looking him right in the eyes, but I can't find the words to tell him the truth. Laughing nervously, I glance away again. “I don't remember, I just didn't. We were kids, kids think and do stupid things.”

  I can't open that wound. I've spent so many years stitching it up.

  The past hurts. The past brings bad memories. The past is the whole reason I never took that leap of faith and told Douglas how I really feel. I pushed it away, and refused to let it gain any steam, smothering it before it became too big to handle, and I got hurt.

  He doesn't need to know. We're already breaking the rules, why make it more difficult? None of this is going to last. I feel like I'm living in a movie that's going to end any minute.

  We can't carry this on forever. And we shouldn't. The longer we do, the bigger the chance that one of us doesn't come out whole. I can't even think about that. It'll be the end to our friendship. Because that's what happens when two people grow apart. We're perfect the way we are.

  Are we? Are we perfect as just friends?

  Because it doesn't feel perfect. It feels like I'm only giving him half of the person I am.

  “Come on,” he says, nudging me in the arm with his shoulder. “I know you didn't forget, you have the memory of an elephant. Why didn't you—”

  I don't let him finish, cutting him off with my lips instead.

  I kiss him.

  I kiss him to silence him, and I kiss him so I don't have to answer. I kiss him because I should have done this a long time ago.

  But no one can live in the past.

  So, why does this feel right?

  Why does this feel like the past just caught up with me?

  8

  Douglas

  This is where I belong.

  I stand with my hands on my hips, looking out at the set we built for Eileen. People are coming and going, moving like bees around a hive. I'm proud of this. Proud of how far we've come and where we're going.

  Lyllian is really shining and has been since the first day. Eileen's told me multiple times already that she's so happy to have her here. I feel the same. I get to see the way her eyes light up when she's being told she's doing an incredible job.

  We've been working on the set together for two weeks now. And I have to say, things couldn't be better. Not only is production running smooth and right on time, but Lyllian caught on quickly, and is making quite the impression with everyone, not just Eileen.

  Even I can see how much of a natural she is. I get to steal small glances of her when she isn't paying attention. I like that the most, when she doesn't know I'm watching. It's perfect for me to just take her in. Her smile, her laugh, the way she talks with her hands when she's describing something.

  But I'm a selfish man. A part of me wants her smile all to myself. I want to capture her laugh and steal her words for my ears and my ears alone.

  She's not mine. No matter how much I want to stake my claim on her, I know in her eyes, this is all just pretend. We're playing a twisted game of Russian roulette, and the
bullet is pointing at me.

  Lyllian comes out of the side door and smiles at me as she walks by carrying a stack of papers. Eileen put her in charge of updating the scripts when things change, and getting the new scripts out to all the actors. She does some intern type research for Eileen too, and is basically becoming her right hand.

  “Hello,” a familiar voice says from behind me. I look over my shoulder and see my parents standing there. “We're looking for the famous producer Douglas Myers? We heard we could find him in here.”

  “Mom, Dad,” I say surprised, and walk toward them with my arms out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well, when you told us how well things were going, we couldn't help ourselves, we had to come see it. Call me selfish, but I love bragging to everyone about my son.” My mother looks over at my father, and grins. “Plus, your father really wants Fior Depitrillo's autograph.”

  “What?” My father puffs his chest and shakes his head. “That's not what I said at all.” His eyes start to wander around the room. “Is he here? I mean, I think I heard something about it, but I don't know.”

  “Sorry, Dad, he's not here today. Actually, he's not coming for a few days, but I am excited you're here. How about I show you around?”

  “That depends, is there a food table?” my father asks as he rubs long circles over his belly.

  “You mean a green room?”

  “I mean a table with food. I'm starving, and your mother refused to let me eat before we came.”

  “I didn't refuse to let you eat, you didn't want anything we had. Don't blame me for this, Stephen.”

  My parents and I are close, but it's been a few years since they stepped foot in Warwick. After I graduated college, and my father retired from the police force, they decided to move two hours away so my mother could take care of my ill grandmother.

  Most of the time I head out there to see them for the holidays, and I make the trip every couple of months for a weekend just to visit, so this is a huge surprise. They never once mentioned they were planning to come here.

  “Wait,” I say as a thought crosses my mind. “Is this really why you're here? Is Grandma okay?”