The Trouble with Faking (21 page)

I stand up, running my fingers through my hair and wondering why Noah couldn’t have caught me in a slightly sexier outfit—and then wondering why I even care—than my Wonder Woman PJs, one blue sock, and one white sock. “Hi,” I say.

“Hi.” He takes a few steps closer to the lounge area and places his hands on the back of the couch.

“How did you get up here?”

“I was about to buzz, but someone was coming into the building and held the door open for me.”

“Aaand how did you know I was here?”

“Uh, I asked Carmen. I haven’t seen you around for a while, so I just wanted to check you were okay.”

“I am,” I say, nodding. “Are you?”

“Yes. I’m okay.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

I pause, then add, “Is this about to become the most awkward conversation either of us has ever had?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I think this is already the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had.”

“I think so. Me too.” My fingers fiddle with the hem of my pyjama top. “Since it’s already awkward, I should probably dive right in and say I’m really sorry for that big fight outside Damien’s room. I was waiting at mem stone for him to meet me so I could break up with him, but then you rushed off and confronted him and made it all into a big mess, and I got really mad at both of you, even though maybe it was good to get everything out in the open because at least we were all being honest—although I’m still not a hundred percent sure if I can believe everything Damien said, because after that, I … Jeepers, I am totally messing up this apology. I—yeah—I’m sorry. That’s all I should say. I’m sorry.”

“Andi,” Noah says with a small smile, “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologising, not you. And if anyone should be feeling awkward, it’s me, knowing what you overheard.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t really hear … Okay, I heard everything.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry.”

“Why? Maybe I …”
Maybe I liked what I overheard. Maybe I liked hearing that you’re finally over Tania—whoever she is—and suggesting that I’m the reason you’re over her.

“Maybe you what?” Noah asks.

“Nothing.” Heat climbs up my neck and scorches my face. I press my hands over my cheeks. “Sometimes I hate having super pale skin,” I murmur.

“Because it means you can never hide it when you’re blushing?”

“Yes, Noah, thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

“Sure. And since we’re still in the middle of a gigantic awkward moment, I’ll make it worse by asking how you and Damien are doing.”

I press my hands harder against my cheeks. “There is no me and Damien. I don’t know if we’ll ever even be friends again. What about you guys? Have you made up yet?”

Noah shakes his head. “I think he’s still avoiding me. I’ve tried calling him a few times, but he never answers. I almost called you too. I saw a girl on campus with a handbag made from an actual hardcover book, and I wanted to tell you about it. Looked like something you’d love to make.”

I drop my hands to my sides. I’m still standing, he’s still standing, and the couch is still between us. And suddenly it seems silly. “I missed you,” I say simply, then smack my hand against my forehead. “Ugh, isn’t there supposed to be something in my brain that stops things like that from reaching my mouth before I can assess whether they’re appropriate or not?”

Noah smiles. “I missed you too.”

I laugh, feeling a whole lot better all of a sudden. “Can we sit now? I think this standing thing is adding to the awkwardness.”

He walks around the couch and sits down, leaving a free cushion between us. “Are we friends again now?” he asks. “You know, just so I can keep my sister updated. She’s been pestering me for details.”

Friends? I kinda got the impression he wanted more than that when he was yelling at Damien, but I suppose it isn’t an option if he’s hoping to restore the friendship he and Damien had. Isn’t there a bro code or something? Don’t date your friend’s ex-girlfriend? And Damien and I should probably try to get back to being friends too. Besides, I told Noah he wasn’t my type, didn’t I? “So, you told your sister about the fight, did you?” I say.

“Well, she wanted to know when you were visiting again. I said you couldn’t, and she wouldn’t believe me until I gave her a legitimate reason. Now she keeps asking if I’ve apologised yet.”

“Well, at least now you can legitimately say yes.”

“Yes. And explain to her once again that you are just a friend.”

“Right.” It’s surprising how much it disappoints me to hear him say that. I wasn’t even aware I wanted more with Noah until the possibility of having more was taken away. When I look back, though, it makes sense. There was a slow progression of Damien-thoughts gradually slipping away and Noah-thoughts taking their place. He’s the one who occupies my mind most of the time now, and that isn’t normal for someone who’s just a friend, is it? Damn, why couldn’t I have figured this out weeks ago before I messed everything up?

Noah tilts his head to the side and says, “I’m pretty sure you’re my first friend who’s a girl.”

“Oh.” I tuck my hair self-consciously behind my ear. “I guess that’s why your family was suspicious when you took me home for dinner.”

“They’re a suspicious lot, my family.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“I’m just remembering one of my mom’s favourite movies,
When Harry Met Sally
.”

Noah gives me a blank look. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would have. It’s quite old, and definitely more of a girl movie than a guy movie.”

“And you were thinking of it because …”

“Well, in the movie Billy Crystal says to Meg Ryan that men and women can never be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

“The—okay.” Noah’s eyebrows jump before he stares intently at his feet, and suddenly I’m feeling even more awkward than before because I’ve just suggested that he and I can’t be friends because he’ll want sex.

“But then,” I rush on as heat engulfs my face, “after many years, their characters end up becoming very good friends.”

“Ah. So Billy Crystal was wrong.” Noah looks relieved.

“Well, then the two of them end up getting married.” Aaand now I wish I’d said nothing. And I wish I wasn’t staring at his lips. And I wish I wasn’t wishing I could kiss him. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out, tearing my gaze away from his mouth. “You said I’m your first friend who’s a girl, and that made me think of the movie, and I didn’t mean to imply that there was ANY kind of similarity between their situation and ours, because of course we—”

“No, I don’t think I have any,” Livi says as she opens her bedroom door. Noah and I both twist around to see what’s happening. I don’t know about him, but I’m certainly grateful for the interruption. “I think I’ve only got herbal teas,” Livi continues, “but I’ll check.”

“I’ll help you,” Allegra says, following Livi out of her bedroom. “Oh, hello.” She gives Noah a flirtatious smile, and I immediately feel a lot less friendly towards her.

Noah and I sit in awkward silence as Livi bustles around making hot drinks. “Do you guys want anything?” she asks us.

Crap, I didn’t offer him anything! I’m about to apologise, but he says, “No thanks, I’m fine.”

After another minute or so of awkwardness, Allegra leans against the kitchen table and says, “You know, there are few men who can successfully pull off the bald look, but I have to say, you are one of them.”

“Uh, thanks,” Noah says uncertainly, rubbing a hand over his head.

“He isn’t actually bald,” I say, feeling oddly defensive. “He does have some hair.”

“Yeah.” Allegra gives him a sultry half-smile. “A sexy number 1.”

“Okay,” Livi says, grabbing Allegra’s arm and leading her back to the bedroom. “Time to get back to work.”

The door closes, and I shut my eyes and sigh. “This evening keeps getting more and more awkward,” I mutter.

“Well, thank goodness you’re wearing Wonder Woman pyjamas,” Noah says, his lips twitching as he attempts to suppress a smile. “That must make everything better, right?”

On the first day of the second quarter, after classes are finished, I drag my suitcase back into Fuller. On my second trip back from the car—to fetch my sewing machine and a few other bits and pieces—I see Charlotte leaning in the doorway of the main Fuller entrance. I’m starting to wonder if she stuck a tracking device on me the first day we met; I can’t seem to move anywhere in this residence without ‘accidentally’ running into her.

“Oh, look who’s come out of hiding,” she says as I walk towards her. “It must have been so embarrassing when your boyfriend dumped you. Not all of us are able to hold our heads high at the end of a relationship.”

“And it seems you’ve once again got the wrong end of the stick,” I mutter as I pass her.

“And you’re once again wearing circus clothes,” Charlotte says, probably referring to my rainbow ruffled skirt and diamond patterned leggings.

I turn around and place my sewing machine on the floor of the foyer. “Look, Charlotte, can we just put an end to this? You’re always so spiteful whenever you see me, and I can’t say that I enjoy your comments, so I get the feeling we’d both be a lot happier if this game we keep playing could just end.”

“This isn’t a game, Andi. This is your life, and these are my comments on it. It isn’t my fault you’ve made life choices that are practically begging to be made fun of.”

I breathe slowly and deeply in an attempt to remain calm. “I understand why you’re upset, Charlotte. You thought your boyfriend was cheating on you, and that must have really hurt—and, honestly, I think you might have been right, although it wasn’t with me, and I never got him to admit who the girl was. But it’s all in the past now, whether he cheated on you or not, and I think life would be better for us both if we simply ignored each other from now on.” I pick up the sewing machine. “That’s what I plan to do. It would be great if you could do the same.”

***

As the days pass, I settle into a new kind of normal. Carmen and I hang out most evenings, I see Livi on weekends, and the only time I visit Smuts is if I’m meeting Noah in the foyer. He accompanies me to a new coffee shop each week, and even features in several of the coffee shop videos—much to the delight of my subscribers. After doing three book reviews together and receiving way too many comments about our relationship status, I buy a plain T-shirt for each of us and whip out my fattest permanent marker.
He is not my boyfriend
goes on my T-shirt, and
She is not my girlfriend
goes on Noah’s. My subscribers love it.

Carmen wants to know what all the fuss is about, so I decide to feature her in one of the videos. She doesn’t smile and manages to look utterly bored the entire time, only opening her mouth to say things like, “If the bad guys wanted to destroy the stone, why did they follow the good guys all the way to the end and
then
fight them. Why not just fight them as soon as they found them?” and “That’s never going to work. You can’t have the hero kill the heroine’s family, even accidentally. She’ll never forgive him. That’s the start of a very unhealthy relationship.” I’m a little nervous about posting the video, but even those who don’t agree with her seem to like her. Carmen’s favourite comment is:
Your new friend totally did not get that book. She’s a psycho. And she’s awesome
.

I run into Damien every now and then, in the dining hall or the corridor or the parking lot. We attempt to make conversation, but it always feels forced. I begin to wonder if we had one of those friendships that was only meant to last our school years. Sometimes it hurts to think of that, and other times I wonder why it matters if each of us has clearly moved in a different direction now. Noah manages to make more progress than I do, but he says Damien is distant with him as well, and neither of them shares anything too personal with the other. Damien’s mentioned a new girlfriend, apparently, but he won’t say much about her.

And that’s how I know I’ve truly moved on. The thought of Damien’s new girlfriend doesn’t fill me with hurt or jealousy or disappointment. It fills me with excitement—because if Damien’s moved on, then maybe I’m finally allowed a chance with the guy I’ve been falling a little more for every day.

***

“So to summarise,” I say to the camera, “we have finally found a book that Noah thinks is awesome and I don’t really like that much.”

“Probably because there’s barely any romance in it,” Noah says, leaning back on his hands.

“Well, exactly. What is a hero meant to fight for if not love?”

“Uh, the fate of his kingdom?”

“Yes, I know, I know. The dragons were going to kill them all, and he wanted to keep his darling princess safe, so he left her back at the castle, and that’s pretty much the last we saw of her. But instead we could have had a princess with a little more guts. She could have escaped the castle and gone into dragon territory on her own. And let’s say some of those dragons were good and didn’t actually want to attack the kingdom. She could have befriended one of them and gone back with it to her kingdom to share secrets that could help her people win. She could have been a
dragon rider
! And then, at the turning point of the battle, she could almost die—or the hero could almost die—and then there would be that heartbreaking moment when the dragon sacrifices himself for his rider, and the prince and princess get to live happily ever after in a kingdom no longer under threat.”