CHAPTER ELEVEN Joshua
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Joshua
S o, in an attempt to lay low and avoid Emily, I manage to get myself closer to her by pretending to be her boyfriend. Yes, I absolutely deserve a smack to the head.
“ WHAT? ” Bon’s voice reverberates throughout the car. “NO. She never told me. She’s there with you, right? EMILY! Em, what’s hap–” Mom cut her off before she could continue.
“That’s wonderful news,” she says. “We’ll see you both in a while.” And then she hangs up.
Silence fills the car. It’s the kind of silence that simmers, like the calm before a storm. And sure enough, when I glance over at Emily, she’s glaring at me like she hates my guts. “What the hell?!” She smacks my arm.
“Look. I’m sorry, okay?” I say. “You heard that conversation. There was no other way to get out of that!” I pause for a while, then continue, “But isn’t this actually good? You’re looking for a fake date, I need a fake girlfriend. Overall, I like to imagine it worked out for you and me.”
“Worked out?” she hisses. “Josh, we didn’t think this through. People are gonna ask us questions,” she says, then she grabs my arm in a rapid motion like she just realized something, “ Personal questions!”
I know she’s freaking out, but her hand on my arm is sending jolts of electricity into my system. It’s probably because her hand is cold. Why is her hand always cold?
I hesitate before answering her, realizing that pretending to date Emily might not be the easy fix I thought it would be. But still, I push forward. “How hard can it be? We can do this,” I say, despite my inner voice suggesting otherwise.
“And you do realize that Bon is flipping out right now, right?” Emily says. “She’s gonna kill me first then she’s coming for you.”
“Relax, Bon will understand,” I say, not fully convinced. “We’ll explain afterwards. Or we can just break up, you know, tell them it didn’t work out.” I know this is all pretend, but fake breaking up with Emily somehow sounds more stressful than fake dating her.
Emily presses her hands to her face. “Oh my god. We only have–” She glances at the clock on the car dashboard, “An hour left to come up with an entire story. We need details about how we met, how we got together, and when we started liking one another,” she says. She pulls up her phone and opens her Notes app. “Oh, and the girls are obviously gonna ask for more details, you know–when, how, where, why, and…shit,” she stops short. “I told them about our kiss. The one two weeks ago when I didn’t know you were you.” She looks up at me with panic in her eyes.
She continues, her voice an octave higher. “They’re gonna wonder why I was kissing strangers if I already had a boyfriend. And if I tell them it was you, how could I justify my breakdown two weeks ago? It won’t make any sense. I have to think.” Her eyebrows are knitted together, and her nose is scrunched as she thinks.
I can’t help but chuckle a little. “Does your brain always work like this?” I ask incredulously, shooting her concerned glances every few seconds while still focusing on the road. “You’re five disasters away from everyone else.”
“Well, I have to be. We’re going home to Magnolia Heights,” she emphasizes. “The nosiest neighborhood in the world. We will be interrogated like we’re testifying in court. Manang Linda alone can smell bullshit from a mile away.
“How do we get out of that?” she says, her face tinged with horror.
“First of all,” I say, “breathe, Emily.” When she takes a deep breath, I pause. I want to convince her that this is the right thing, even when I might have just ruined her vacation. I say, “Okay, about the kiss, you can tell them that we kissed as strangers, but when we saw each other again, we found out the truth. And then we started hanging out every day. And so the relationship is new, that’s why we didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”
She nods, typing my every word into her phone.
“So that covers the questions of how we met and how we got together,” I continue. “As for when we started liking each other, I don’t know about you, but I can say that I liked you ever since you screamed at the back alley of my construction site.”
She looks at me with a glare again, as if begging me not to remind her of that. “Tantrum Em.” I smile playfully.
“Okay,” she says. “But don’t you think this is still unrealistic?” She points to me, then back to her.
“How?” I ask.
“Well, for starters, you’re a commitment-phobe who has never been in a real relationship. Rob has been my only boyfriend. How in the world did this—us—happen?”
“What’s so unbelievable about me falling for you?” I flash her a smile. “Have you seen you?” It’s so easy to fall for her, if only I were the falling type of person.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she teases. “Maybe the fact that you’ve never dated anyone for more than…” she pauses and looks at me.
“One day,” I say.
“Disgusting,” she replies. There’s a flicker of something on her face. I don’t know if it’s nervousness or amusement. I understand she’s worried, and I only want to make the situation light. I’m not exactly good at confronting real-life situations. Problems at work? I can solve in a minute. Other people’s problems? I give such good advice, I should charge them for therapy sessions. But problems that involve me? Emotions? Nah, I’ll crack a joke and I’ll pass.
But that face. Emily’s anxious expression. I can’t just ignore it. “Look, Emily,” I say. “Relax. I know that’s impossible for you and your spiraling brain, but really. You don’t have to overanalyze it. We’ll discuss the usual questions, but for all the other stuff, we can handle it. Just follow my lead, honey,” I say playfully. It makes me wince a bit, I don’t usually use terms of endearment. It’s a reminder of relationships and how I never want to be in one. But since this is just pretend, I even smile as I say, “Hold my hand,” and reach out to her.
She reluctantly puts her hand in mine, and it’s like we’re back in the plane. Temporarily providing respite for each other. Maybe that’s what this is. Just a temporary solution to a temporary problem.
“See? Not so hard, is it?” I say, and she nods as the tension slightly leaves her face.
“My friends have a sixth sense about this stuff, though,” she replies. “If you so much as flinch when they ask questions about us, they will know,” she says.
“Then we’ll just have to sell it, won’t we?” I say.
“I suppose,” she murmurs.
We’re stuck in traffic. Classic Manila—where even expressways come to a standstill. The sun’s almost gone now, and it’s starting to get dark. Cars in the opposite lane have their headlights on, the beams bouncing off windows and asphalt. Neon signs from nearby gas stations flicker on. The greenery along the road is fading into the shadows, giving way to the glow of city lights.
As I hold Emily’s hand, pretending this setup is easy, I can’t help but think about how this mess is just another product of how much I want my mother to get off my back. She probably thinks she’s doing me a favor with all the matchmaking, but it feels more like she’s pushing me into a pit. It’s almost as if she’s forgotten the scars I carry after watching and enduring her toxic marriage growing up.
The constant fighting, the shouting matches that seemed to echo through the walls at all hours of the night—it was like living in a war zone. My mother might have rewritten history in her head, convinced herself that everything turned out fine in the end because they eventually made peace. But for me, the scars run too deep.
I don’t know what kind of spell she put on Bon to make her believe in love, but I won’t fall for that shit.
As I glance at Emily, looking out at a passing landscape, I can’t help but notice the irony. In trying to avoid one trap, I’ve fallen headfirst into another. Her presence complicates things in ways I never anticipated. She’s smart, beautiful, and way too good for this mess—and if it were even an option, too good for me.
“You okay now?” I ask, after a few more minutes of silence.
“Yeah, I guess.” She looks at me. I raise my eyebrows to urge her to continue, and she does. “Well, on the upside, Rob is gonna flip. He kinda hates you.”
“Hates me? What the hell did I do?” I ask with a dumbfounded laugh. I have never even interacted with Rob enough to develop an emotion toward him. He’s five years younger than me like Bon and Em, and back then, I was more of everyone’s older sibling than their friend.
Emily chuckles. “He’s always been insecure of you, in a way. He says he doesn’t understand how you’re given all these great opportunities when you used to always cut classes, sneak out at night to party, and bring home different girls every week,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Meanwhile, he spent all his time holed up in his room, studying. He was so convinced that you’d fail when you get to New York, and he got even more pissed when he found out how successful you ended up being.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s ridiculous… which is perfect for you.”
“Yeah,” she says. “I remember Bon telling me that I could call you when I arrived in New York, just so I can get introduced to the city,” she continues. “And honestly, I really wanted to give you a call. But Rob would’ve flipped if I attempted to spend time with you, so I ended up getting lost on my first day.”
I turn my head to her, and she motions for me to turn my attention back to the road. I still steal glances as I say, “Wait, so you actually got lost in New York on your first day? And instead of calling for help, you just wandered around? All because your boyfriend was insecure about the fact that I went out and lived a little?”
Emily stares out of the windshield, lost in her thoughts. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound absurd.”
“Your ex-boyfriend is absurd.”
She shrugs. “He really is. He always had this weird complex. But whatever, that’s over now.” She looks down and fidgets with her fingers, and continues. “It’s not just about getting back at him. Though I admit, it would be satisfying.” She chuckles. “But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” I ask.
She pauses, as if choosing her words carefully. “The point is... I’m tired of feeling like I have to justify myself to him. Or to anyone. Rob has always had this way of making me feel small, like whatever I do won’t be as good as what he does. And for a long time, I believed him. But now? I want to feel... free of that.”
We’re nearing the gates of Magnolia Heights, and I slow down, pulling over to park along the curb. We stop in front of a closed store, with its lights dim. For a moment, I let her words settle, our surroundings fading into the background. When I finally meet her gaze, her eyes are steady, and I give a reassuring smile.
“Then let’s make him jealous of what he’ll never have again,” I say, my tone light but sincere.
Emily’s lips curl into a genuine smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Spoken like a true Don Juan,” she chuckles, her laughter warm and inviting. It’s contagious, and I find myself grinning in response.
“Seriously,” I continue, my tone shifting to a playful seriousness, “I’m going to act so madly in love with you, he’ll be squirming in his sleep.”
“You better,” she points a finger at me. “And I’m gonna act so obsessed with you, your mother will never think of mentioning another woman’s name again.”
“Deal,” I say, reaching out my hand as Emily shakes it.
“Don’t you think we should set up some ground rules first?” Emily says.
“I usually break rules, not make them,” I say, but noticing her uneasy expression, I quickly add, “But if it helps you, fine. What do you have in mind?”
“Well, for starters, there should be no feelings. I just got out of a serious relationship; I don’t think I wanna be in one any time soon.” She says it with such finality that I think she’s starting to build a wall between us. As she should.
“Fair.” I cross my arms. “And I only date casually, never even had a girlfriend, so you’re in the clear,” I answer back.
She nods, seeming relieved. “Okay, so no feelings, no messy attachments.”
“No messy attachments,” I echo, but there’s a twinge of something underneath the surface. It’s odd because I am severely attracted to her but I also don’t want to date her. And I don’t know where that puts me.
“Also, no kissing, right?” she adds, her tone casual, though there’s a flicker of something uncertain in her gaze.
“Hmm,” I say, a soft smile tugging on my lips. I look at her casually and continue, “You sure there’s no wiggle room on that rule?” I try to make it light, but I could feel the disappointment in my gut when she says that.
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m kidding,” I add. “No kissing… unless absolutely necessary,” I counter. Emily doesn’t correct me, and I smile. My mind flashes back to that night in Manhattan, how our kiss was so perfect it sealed itself in my memory forever. And how I don’t think any other kiss came close to how that felt. And, as she’s smiling now, I can’t help but think about how easy it would be to just lean forward and–
“And we should keep this temporary,” she continues, snapping me back to reality. “This is just while we’re here in Manila. When we’re back in New York, we can go back to our own lives.”
I nod. “Yes, Ma’am. No feelings, no messy attachments, no kissing, temporary,” I say, holding up a finger each time. “Solid plan, Em.”
Emily’s eyes soften slightly, but I notice she’s still keeping some distance. I decide to push a little further.
“One more thing,” I say, my voice taking on a teasing tone. “I need your consent on this.”
“On what?”
“I’m a touchy person,” I murmur, watching her closely. “If I’m in a moment with you, I might... hold your hand, put my arm around your shoulder, touch your face—you know, the usual. I need to know if you’re okay with that.”
She doesn’t answer right away, and my pulse quickens. This is the line where things could go sideways. I lean in just a fraction, lowering my voice to make sure she knows I’m not joking about this. “I just need to know now. If you’re not okay with it, I’ll back off. But if you are...” I let my words trail off, letting the silence hang between us.
She stares at me, her breath catching just a bit. The air feels charged, but she doesn’t pull away. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
“No, no,” I reply, the teasing edge dropping from my voice. “I need your explicit consent, Emily. I’m not gonna touch you and then find out you’re uncomfortable. I need to know your boundaries now.”
She goes silent, and I can see her thinking it over, her eyes scanning my face. I wait, but the stillness feels like a long stretch of time, my heart thudding louder than I’d like. Finally, I add to ease the mood, “Just so you know, though... you have my unlimited consent. It’s always ‘yes’ for me.”
A breath of laughter escapes her, and the tension in the air softens. “I’m fine with the hand holding, the shoulder thing, and even the face touch. But maybe... just ask me before you do anything else?”
“Perfect,” I say, giving her a warm smile
Emily laughs softly, the mood lifting again. “I think we can pull this off.”
“Of course, we can. I mean, we’re both professionals at this point,” I joke, trying to lighten the moment. I start the car again, going into the village we grew up in.
“I’m gonna send this to you as our shared note,” she says, already pulling out her phone. She asks for my email, and soon we’re sharing a note file, a piece of this strange agreement between us.
As she chuckles, a part of me wonders if we’re both lying to ourselves. Because here’s the thing: it’s easy to set up rules, easier still to agree to them. But rules don’t always protect you from reality. And right now, reality is sitting across from me, tying her hair up in a ponytail, and sporting a stunning smile.
We pass through the gates of Magnolia Heights, and the neighborhood unfurls around us like a memory I’d almost forgotten I held so close. The houses line up along the street, each one with its own small quirks—painted shutters, wind chimes, and makeshift swings swaying gently in the evening breeze. Mango trees and bougainvillea spill over fences. Small, family-owned shops and restaurants dot the main avenue, their windows warm and welcoming, even when the shops are closed.
As we turn onto my street, my house comes into view. The lights are bright, spilling out from the windows, and I can already sense the energy buzzing from inside. The place is packed, no doubt, with everyone conveniently gathered for our arrival, waiting for us to make our grand entrance. I park just outside and glance over at Emily, who’s taking it all in.
“Here we go. You ready, Sugarplum?” I ask with a grin.
“As ready as you are, Sweet Pea.” She gives me the most sarcastic smile in the world. I chuckle as I go down and open the door for her on the other side.
“Just remember the secret to a successful lie,” I say as she gets out of the car.
I slip my arm around her as soon as she’s out, and she looks up at me, her curiosity piqued. “And what’s that?” she asks.
I glance down at her, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I say, “Always make sure it has a little bit of truth.” I wink, and I lead her inside.