The Pretend Girlfriend (25 page)

Trying to buy some time, Gwen downed that shot. So much panicked adrenaline flooded her veins that she hardly felt the sting of the liquor going down her throat. What do I do? Gwen thought. I don't want to keep lying to B... I'm tired of all this lying.

But Gwen still felt afraid of how B might react and judge her. And also how B probably wouldn't be able to keep it to herself.

"So?" Beatrice said.

"I've, uh, got it covered."

"How?"

She thought she could tell Beatrice that Aiden gave her some money, but then reconsidered. Would that look better or worse than signing a contract to pretend to be his girlfriend? Probably better, she figured, but by how much? Both made her look desperate, or like a gold digger, or both.

Gwen shifted her butt on the barstool. Why did they have to make these things so uncomfortable? It felt like sitting on a slab of granite.

Luckily (unluckily?) for Gwen, a frat guy with a popped collar shirt came to the rescue. He leaned against the bar next to Gwen and let his elbows slide forward, which displayed his bare, waxed chest. Only the bottom two buttons on his shirt were done up. "Hey, babe," he said, "That dress is hot. And you are smokin'."

"Thanks, I guess," Gwen said. She hadn't really been expecting any sort of advances. The bar just seemed too quiet for it. Normally, she just passed these guys on to Beatrice, who was an expert at stringing them along for loads of free drinks. Gwen didn't really pity them for getting taken like that, figuring they got what they deserved.

Except that tonight was anything but usual. For one, she now had Aiden. She thought about how he said he was jealous when Liam flirted with her at the track. If only he were there now to see this guy hitting on her.

Usually, Gwen didn't enjoy this sort of attention. She'd gotten over the whole bar scene after her first year at school. If it weren't for Beatrice, she probably wouldn't really go to places like this anymore. Her standard role was that of wing man, sifting through the guys who came up and sending away the ones she didn't think B would like.

Take this guy, for example. Shirt already mostly undone, as previously mentioned. Frosted tips in his spiked hair, and a pair of sunglasses hanging off the back of his head. A real bro. Easily worth a couple free drinks and maybe even an appetizer or the like to Beatrice.

Except this time, Gwen didn't pass him on to Beatrice. "Hi," she said.

"What's your name?" the guy said.

"Gwen. You?"

"Lance," he replied. Of course it was going to be something like Lance. She bet he had a load of jokes about that ready to go, tucked up into his rolled-up sleeve.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

Lance didn't bother to try and sneak or steal glances at her. He was brazen, checking her out openly, appreciating her. He moved in closer, sensing acceptance. Some sort of cheap cologne or body spray wafted from him. "What are you doing later?" he said.

"I'm not sure, why?" Gwen replied. Alarm bells started ringing in her head, and she kept asking herself why she didn't just send him packing.

"Well, I know something we could do. It takes two, though. Sometimes three," Lance said, sending a wink over Gwen's shoulder to Beatrice, who in turn sat there dumbfounded as she watched the display.

And then Gwen realized why she'd let him go so far. It felt good. Lance might be a sleazy, greasy, horny frat boy, but at least he didn't lie to her about it, or to himself. It was an honest desire he expressed for her, and she appreciated that honesty, since Aiden wasn't being so open with her.

There was no pretending, no lying. But then again, there was nothing else to go along with that basic desire. No real connection like the one she felt with Aiden.

Disgusted with herself, she turned away from Lance, back towards the bar.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" he said.

Not looking at him, Gwen replied, "Nothing, sorry. I'm just not interested."

He put his hand on her shoulder and Gwen went stiff. "That's not how things were going a second ago..."

"Get your hand off her, now," Beatrice said, speaking through clenched teeth, the warning tone in her voice evident. She liked to play and flirt, but could also be protective like a mama bear at a moment's notice.

"Hey, fine, okay. Mixed messages much? Enjoy your evening, ladies," Lance said, sauntering back to the table where his bros sat. They all started laughing as he related whatever version of the story he'd made up on his way back.

Gwen snatched the shot glass from the bar and downed the vodka. What was that now, two or three? She couldn't remember. Whatever the number, she certainly started feeling it as a pleasant fuzziness, a dulling of her thoughts

"Whoa, what was that about?" Beatrice said.

"Nothing."

Now Beatrice touched her shoulder. "That wasn't nothing. You let that guy hit on you. Is there something going on between you and Aiden?"

Gwen smiled mirthlessly. "There's nothing going on between us. Nothing at all." A kiss here, a touch there, a smile. That was all he gave her. Stringing her along, putting down just enough breadcrumbs to keep her on his trail.

"Why can't he just say it?" Gwen said, not intending to say that out loud. The bartender poured them some more shots, and Gwen reached out eagerly.

Beatrice grabbed her wrist, keeping her from her next dose of the mind-numbing alcohol. "Hey, tell me what's up."

"I want to, but I can't."

"Because of that agreement thing you signed? What's up with that, anyway?"

"Yeah, that thing. It's just so... complicated."
Great
, she thought,
now I even sound like Aiden.

And just like Gwen's reaction to Aiden using that word as an excuse, Beatrice got frustrated, too. "That's not good enough, Gwen. Stop feeding me that line. Just tell me straight; what's going on? Ever since you started seeing him, things have been extremely weird."

Gwen knew that she should just say something vaguely reassuring, maybe put her bad mood down to schoolwork or something. But that was just another lie. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she just couldn't lie to her best friend anymore. It would be okay to share this with just one other person, wouldn't it? Gwen thought.

Beatrice normally couldn't keep a secret. However, this wasn't a normal secret.
I can trust her,
Gwen told herself.

Seeing the internal struggle going on in her friend, Beatrice gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just tell me what's up. And if he's hurting you... I'll kill him myself. You know that," Beatrice said, grinning.

Just tell her, go on, do it,
Gwen urged herself.
You'll feel better after
. The truth sets you free, doesn't it?

Whoever came up with that little phrase neglected to mention that sometimes the truth sets you free right over a cliff.

Gwen decided to start small. "I'm not moving out of the apartment because Aiden is giving me more than enough to stay there. Even without a roommate..."

"Holy...! I didn't think you had it in you. Way to go, girl!" Beatrice said, raising her shot in salute and then downing it.

So far so good,
Gwen thought. Of course B wouldn't judge a successful gold digger, being an aspiring one herself.

"That's not everything..." Gwen started.

For wanting to get this off her chest, it certainly was difficult to let go.
This is what I want, isn't it: to tell someone?
Gwen thought. But telling would betray Aiden's trust, and she had her own integrity to worry about, not to mention a legally binding contract with her signature on it.

"More? Wow, I really underestimated you," Beatrice said.

"That form you caught me signing," Gwen started, forcing her throat to stop clenching up, "It wasn't just a non-disclosure form. It was a contract to pretend to be Aiden's girlfriend. Oh, B, I was just so desperate, and it sounded like easy money. But now I actually really like him, and I don't know if he wants me back or if it's all just an act..."

It all just came spilling out, like a glass of water tipped over by a careless elbow. Gwen couldn't stop it. Her heart raced with panic as she finally sputtered to a stop, wondering how Beatrice would react.

Beatrice laughed, "Oh man, that is good. You, act? I don't think so. How do you come up with this stuff?"

She thinks it's a joke
, Gwen realized. At first, Gwen wasn't sure if she should be relieved or angry. Relief sounded good, since it meant that Gwen and Aiden's story was probably still safe. But anger just seemed so much more satisfying. She'd worked up the courage to spill her guts, and all she got in return for confiding was a laugh?

That was unacceptable!

Gwen waited until Beatrice calmed down. B wiped at the corners of her eyes. "It's not funny, B. It's true. I don't know what to do, and I can't believe you'd actually laugh at me! I kept telling myself I couldn't trust you with this, how you suck at keeping secrets, and finally I manage to tell you and you won't even believe me?"

The smile slowly left Beatrice's face. Her friend glanced around the bar as her hands balled into fists. "This is for real? You're not kidding. No, of course you aren't. You're about as funny as a rock in a field." Beatrice wasn't kidding either. The words stung.

Had Gwen been a little more clearheaded, she knew she would have simply taken her licks as well-deserved and carried on. Except now she couldn't suppress that instinctual urge to strike back.

"See? This is why I didn't tell you. I knew you wouldn't understand, and that you'd be all judgey about it," Gwen said.

No, stop now!
the little voice inside her cried.
You can still save this!

But Gwen ignored the plea.

Beatrice got a look on her face that said, "I can't believe the words coming out of your mouth. Not understand? You can't
trust
me? What is your problem?"

"You're my problem. If it wasn't for you, I'd never have met him, and I'd never be where I am now! Why can't you just be responsible for once, instead of constantly dragging me off to parties and bars so you can feel good about yourself?"

Some small part of Gwen managed to step back and watch from a distance. She knew even as she said the words that she didn't actually mean them, that none of this was actually Beatrice's fault, and that she was a good friend who didn't deserve this. But she just couldn't hold the frustration and anger back any longer.

Beatrice's face darkened, became stormy. She could look quite scary when she wanted to. "You want to talk responsible? I'm not the one who decided it was a good idea to sign some stupid girlfriend contract!" Beatrice stood, yanking the strap of her purse savagely back up onto her shoulder. "There's something wrong with you. Saying this as someone who used to be your friend, I think you need to take a step back and take a good, hard look at your life. Good luck with this soap opera you've found yourself in."

I'm losing her,
Gwen realized as she regained some control over her faculties. Beatrice started storming towards the door. "Wait, Beatrice!"

By some miracle, her friend actually turned around, her body language saying, "What?"

Apparently, Gwen hadn't regained enough of her ability to reason. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

It was like she'd slapped her. Beatrice blinked in disbelief, her mouth dropping open and then closing slowly, her lips compressing. "I don't know; I can't keep a secret, remember?"

With that, Beatrice left. The bar was quiet, all the conversation having stopped so that everyone could see the show.

"Oh, yeah! Cat fight!" Lance said, his buddies hooting and hollering.

"Shut up," Gwen threw back. She needed to fix this. Again, she experienced that immediate sobering up effect that fear and panic had on the mind. She couldn't believe she'd said that, either. She needed to catch Beatrice, apologize, grovel, anything to get forgiveness.

But by the time she got out onto the street, Beatrice was gone. Gwen saw the back of her friend's head as a taxi passed by.

What have I done?
she wondered.

B
eatrice wouldn't answer her phone, neither calls nor texts. Gwen kept leaving messages, each more pathetic than the last. She needed to make this right.

"Come on, just answer," Gwen said, hitting redial. Rather than ringing, her calls started going straight to voicemail.

She hit the lock button on the phone and then tossed it on her bed. Then she planted her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands.

Did I really just alienate my best friend?
Gwen kept thinking. For the millionth time in the last hour since she'd gotten home from the bar, she wished she could just wake up from this.

And, what was worse, she also kept wondering whether Beatrice would actually tell anyone the true nature of her relationship to Aiden. And that got her wondering if and when she should tell him about... Letting the cat out of the bag wasn't strong enough. It was more like unleashing an entire pride of lions from their cage.

And then what will
he
think of me? Gwen wondered if there was a job anywhere for immense screw-ups, because she was the perfect candidate.

And she also did her best to ignore her laptop, with the essay still only partially written. She didn't even want to think about the pile of books and notes she hadn't even started going through to study for the midterm. Nothing in her life was going right. It was like she kept finding her way out of one maze only to discover that the exit to one was the entrance to another.

And then someone knocked at the door. Could it be Beatrice? Gwen thought. She rushed over, ready to yank it open. As she reached for the handle, she thought about how much trouble just jumping into things had gotten her into lately.

Taking a breath, she stood up on her tiptoes and looked out through the peephole. It wasn't Beatrice on the other side of the door, but Aiden. The fisheye lens made him look strange as is, but she thought there was something off about him.