Foolish Games: A Brothers Best Friend Fake Dating Romance

three

#1 at the Box Office:G.I. Jane

Vivienne Delacroix

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I stare across the table at the guy who just took a seat opposite me—the captain of the football team and the elite court of popular jocks and cheerleaders, the bully who calls my group the nerd herd and picks on us mercilessly, the player who thinks he’s god’s gift to women.

He sits back in his chair in that lazy way of his, cracking his knuckles and grinning at me. “No joke, Princess. I’m all yours. Tutor me, baby.”

I start to gather my things. “You’re right. This isn’t a joke. So if you’re going to treat it like one, like you do all your classes, there’s no point.”

“What are you doing?”

“Going to ask them to pair me with someone else,” I say, nodding to the five other small, rectangular tables in the back of the library, next to the AV room where they film student announcements every afternoon. Each table is occupied with another kid who needs help in various classes, my friends sitting across from them.

Chaz is watching us, his soft hands resting on the wood-grain surface, his orange brows drawn together in concern. Suddenly I want to cry for some ridiculous reason. Of all the people who need help, they thought it would be a good idea to pair me with the jerk who likes to shove my boyfriend into lockers and stuff his head in toilets. Why doesn’t he just buy a paper that’s already written like the other football players?

“You okay?” Chaz mouths.

I nod, pressing my lips together and standing to gather my books. Sebastian sits back, his bulging arms crossed over his bulging chest—where does he get all those muscles?—and an amused smirk on his lips.

Anyone would be better than a football player who thinks he’ll skate by because the school would never bench their precious Sebastian Swift, the boy with wings on his feet. Yes, an op-ed in the Democrat Gazette actually called him that. Talk about cheesy.

He probably expects me to do all the work for him so he can copy it into his own handwriting and turn it in. Hell, the school probably wouldn’t even require it to be in his handwriting. They just want to keep their star player on the field.

He watches me gather my binders like he’s waiting for something. But when I pick up my books without delivering, he lunges forward and grabs my hand. “Hey,” he says. “You can’t leave. You have to give Ms. Peterson a good report.”

I jerk my hand away, annoyed by the flutters that leap into my belly the second our skin makes contact. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll give her a good report every week. You can tell your coach you’re doing tutoring, and I’ll add it to my college applications. Everybody wins.”

“You mean, you win,” he says, scowling up at me. “Typical.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a nerd,” he says. “Figure it out.”

I glare down at him. “I’m not here to play games. So spit it out, or I walk.”

He sighs and leans forward, raking a hand through his bronze hair. “What do you think it means? You get to put it on your college applications, like you said. Everything works out in your perfect little world like it always does.”

“And yours,” I point out. “It’s not like you want to spend your study halls with me, either.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t get help. They’ll say it’s my fault that my grades haven’t improved because I’m getting tutoring, so I must just be lazy and stupid. They’d never question you. You’re on honor roll and all that bullshit.”

“You think I want to lie on my college applications?” I hiss, noticing some others watching us. “I’d rather actually help someone who wants help.”

“Then sit the fuck down,” he snaps, kicking my chair back. “And stop acting like you’re too good to bother explaining anything to a pea brain like me. If you’re so smart, shouldn’t you be able to teach me something?”

“I’m not going to do your homework for you,” I warn, sliding into the chair but not setting my books down yet. “So if that’s what you think is going on here, you need to find another tutor.”

He glares across the table at me like he’s picturing wrapping his huge hands around my throat. “I never said that.”

I shake away the image of his strong, calloused fingers cutting off my airway—and the mortifying things it does to my body. “I just want us both to be clear about our expectations before we start,” I say, drawing myself up in my chair and trying to get my indecent thoughts under control. “I’ve heard how much y’all get away with. I’m not going to enable or coddle you.”

“And I’m not going kiss your ass for doing your job,” he says. “Don’t expect me to overflow with gratitude. You signed up for this.”

“Fine,” I say, setting down my books. “Agreed. And let’s not talk more than we have to. School work is the only topic allowed. So. Let’s see this paper.”

He grudgingly opens his binder, watching me as he pulls out two pages stapled together at the top corner. Then he hesitates, looking down at it like he doesn’t want to show it to me.

I sigh and hold out a hand. “Get real, Sebastian. You really think I’m going to copy your ideas or something? Let me read it.”

He shakes his head, scowls at me, and shoves it across the table. Then he sits back, crossing his arms again and glowering at me while I read. I try not to let it distract me, but I can’t help feeling the weight of his gaze on me. I tuck my caramel hair behind my ear, hating myself for wondering what he thinks when he looks at me. I force myself not to do something cute like bite my lip while I read. I’m being ridiculous. He goes for girls like Keisha, the captain of the cheer squad, not nerds like me.

But damn it. Why does he have to be so hot? It’s distracting as hell, especially when he sits like that and makes his muscles bulge that way.

“What are you looking at, four-eyes?”

I jerk my attention up to him, only to see that he’s not even looking at me anymore. He’s glaring at Jerome, who’s stuttering and fumbling his way through an apology. Poor kid.

I glare at Sebastian. “Leave him alone.”

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. “Do your boyfriends always send you to defend them?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I snap.

“Really?” Sebastian asks, cocking his head. “He follows you around drooling on your heels all day. I figured he was either your boyfriend or your dog.”

“Shut up,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I’m dating his best friend. He doesn’t see me that way. We’re just friends.”

Sebastian smirks. “Yeah, okay. I thought nerds were supposed to be smart.”

“Homework only, remember?” I ask, tapping his paper. “First, you need to add some punctuation. It’s hard to understand what you’re trying to say without breaks between your thoughts.”

He sighs and pulls the paper back, frowning down at it. He adds in a few marks with his pencil and then glances up at me. “For real though. Which one is your boyfriend?”

“Punctuation,” I say, raising a brow and gesturing to his paper.

“Hey, I’m working,” he protests. “We can talk at the same time. It keeps my mind from wandering. Is it Carrot Top over there?”

I level him with a look. “His name is Chaz, and yes.”

“Huh.” Sebastian goes back to marking his paper, and I cross my arms and glare at him. He shows no signs that he notices. Instead, he asks a couple questions about whether a comma is needed in a sentence.

Of course he’s sticking with our homework-only rule now that he’s gotten under my skin. I try not to show my irritation, but finally, I can’t resist.

“What did you mean by ‘huh’?” I ask. “What’s wrong with Chaz? He’s the smartest guy in school, he’s from a good family, and he treats me like a princess.”

Sebastian gives me a funny look and shakes his head. “You have weird priorities.”

“What, because I want a boyfriend who sees me as a human being instead of a notch on his bedpost?”

“On my side of the cafeteria, a big dick is more important than a big brain. Bonus points for having a car.”

“They probably just tell you that to make you feel better about your pea brain.”

I was trying to make a joke, but Sebastian gives me a stormy look. “And you could probably use a guy who treated you like his dirty whore instead of the sweet little princess everyone thinks you are.”

“No thanks,” I say lightly. “I’ll stick with Chaz.”

Sebastian flips to the next page in his paper. “So, all that shit you like about him. Is that a rich girl thing or a nerd thing?”

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “It’s a me thing.”

He stops working and looks at me for a long moment, then goes back to his paper. “What does a good family mean?”

I shrug again. “You know. His parents are still married, they go to church, they live in a nice neighborhood.”

Sebastian snorts. “Who the fuck cares about that? Did your mom pick him for you?”

“No,” I say, glaring at him. “But my parents like him. That means a lot to me.”

He makes a noncommittal sound and marks on his paper. “I always thought he was dating Chiclet over there.”

“Who?”

“That girl,” he says, pointing the eraser end of his pencil at Krissy. “I don’t know y’all’s names, but her teeth look like Chiclets, so that’s what I call her.”

I stifle a laugh, hating myself for liking him a little more for his comment about my arch nemesis. I don’t like knowing that some part of me is as mean and petty as Sebastian Swift and his group of bullies. I don’t like thinking that, if circumstances were different, I could be that kind of person or that deep inside, I’m no better than them.

Sebastian cracks a little grin at me. “Not a fan, huh?”

“That’s not true,” I protest, quickly schooling my expression. “She’s my friend. Be nice.”

He just shakes his head, still grinning, and passes the paper back over to me. For the rest of the class, we work on organizing his thoughts, which are actually pretty well reasoned. They’re just jumbled all throughout the paper instead of organized into paragraphs with their supporting arguments. It’s better than I’d hoped for. And focusing on that keeps me from thinking about what Sebastian said, and why he thinks Krissy is Chaz’s girlfriend.

When the bell rings, we collect our things. I stand and hug my books to my chest. “Bring that back on Thursday with the revisions we talked about, and I think we’ll be able to make it an A paper.”

“You mean I’m going to have to let you tear it apart again?” he asks. “And rewrite it again?”

“That’s generally how paper’s go,” I remind him. “What, do you normally turn in your first draft?”

He glowers at me.

“Oh my god,” I say. “You do. No wonder you’re failing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s no wonder your boyfriend’s cheating on you,” he shoots back. “Maybe if you spent less time rewriting papers and more time on your knees servicing him, he wouldn’t be sticking it to Chiclet when you’re not around.”

My mouth drops open, and I’m about to shoot back a cutting remark, but we’re interrupted by a high-pitched giggle. I’m too infuriated to speak when I see Krissy standing in front of Chaz, gazing up at him with her moony, lovestruck face.

“You’re so funny,” she squeals, swatting his arm playfully.

I turn back to Sebastian, who’s wearing the biggest I-told-you-so grin I’ve ever seen. “You were saying?” he asks, just about dripping with smugness.

“They’re also friends,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster. “Something I’m sure you would know nothing about, since you think girls are just there to, as you so succinctly put it, get on their knees and service you.”

“Hey, that’s not all they’re for,” he protests. “They also get on their backs.”

I force myself not to think about how many girls he’s done those things with.

“Well, Chaz isn’t like that, and he’s not a cheater,” I say, tossing my wavy hair back over my shoulder. “We happen to have a mature relationship built on trust and mutual respect, and I’m glad he has female friends.”

“Wow,” Sebastian says slowly, still smirking at me. “That sounds hella exciting. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go meet a girl who likes me to bend her over and disrespect the fuck out of her in her daddy’s car every Tuesday. Hey, you should try it sometime. Nerd boy Chad over there might be into it.”

He swipes his books off the table and walks away, leaving me fuming at both him and my boyfriend, who made it way too easy for Sebastian to prove his point. I march over to Chaz and pointedly slide into the space between him and Krissy, which makes it obvious just how close they were standing, since we’re now squeezed together like we’re sitting in the backseat of a car together.

After a moment of awkward silence, Chaz steps away from me and picks up his books. When he starts toward the door of the library, the rest of us fall into step with him as usual. Being the smartest makes him the head of the academic nerds by default.

“Sorry you got stuck with the biggest jerk in school,” Chaz says. “The guy probably can’t even read. Did he ask you to write his paper?”

“Actually, he’s not a total lost cause,” I say, an irrational need to defend Sebastian rising in me. “He just needs a little help with organization. How’s your guy? He’s an athlete too, right?”

“I saw y’all talking,” Krissy interrupts, turning to me. “You looked… Friendly.”

I crush my irritation, sure she’s trying to start shit between Chaz and me. “Just doing my job,” I say flatly.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re stuck with him for nine weeks minimum,” Jerome chimes in. “Might as well make the best of a bad situation. If he’s not being a jerk to you, why make things worse for yourself?”

I give him a grateful smile, then remember Sebastian’s claim that Jerome liked me. Damn him. Now I’m going to feel awkward around Jerome, even though he’s just a friend.

When we reach the parking lot, Krissy gives an enthusiastic wave and a big smile as she climbs into her car. “See you tonight,” she calls before closing the door and driving off.

I turn to Chaz. “What’s tonight? Am I forgetting a practice?”

“Nah,” he says, sliding an arm around my shoulders. “She’s just coming over to hang out and have dinner. She’s been having a hard time lately, so I thought I’d take her mind off things.”

“Yeah, she looked really depressed,” I mutter.

“Come on, Viv, don’t start this again,” Chaz says, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “You know she’s my best friend. Her dad just started dialysis. What am I supposed to do, tell her to suffer alone because my girlfriend has some crazy idea that she likes me?”

“You’re right,” I say, forcing a smile. I’m not going to be the heartless bitch for worrying about this when her dad is sick. “You’re a good friend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I slide into the Corvette my parents got me for my sixteenth birthday, I try not to be stung that Chaz didn’t invite me to join them.