Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CLARA
“Where can I put these?” Isabella asks, holding up a bottle of champagne and orange juice.
“Anywhere is fine,” I say, barely glancing at her.
Alejandra tsks. “Put them here.” She guides Isabella to the makeshift drink station on the kitchen island, shaking her head at me.
It’s Sunday, and it is hands down my favorite day of the week.
Valeria, Isabella, and Lily come over on Sunday mornings, and we hang out, play games, drink mimosas, and unwind before the chaos of the work week.
But right now, I am too consumed by the idea of fake-dating Alejandra to pay attention to what’s going on around me.
I hear bits and pieces of conversation, but I couldn’t tell you what they’re about.
The next hour is a bit of a blur. I busy myself making mimosas for everyone, pouring orange juice and prosecco into mismatched glasses while Isabella and Valeria fight over what to cook for breakfast.
Eventually, we all gather around, plates full, drinks poured. Alejandra sits beside me, our legs brushing under the table, barely a touch, but my mind still hyperfocuses on it.
There’s a soft clink that pulls my attention. Alejandra has her mimosa glass in the air, and everyone’s eyes are on her.
“I have an announcement.” Alejandra beams, and I sink down, my stomach suddenly clenching.
“Well . . . we have an announcement,” she adds as she looks down at me. Her eyes sparkle as she reaches for my hand, and the second her fingers find mine, my heart lunges into my throat. I start shaking my head, trying to signal her to stop. But Alejandra doesn’t notice.
“Clara and I are dating!” she says with far too much enthusiasm.
Fuck.
Not “fuck” as in “Why did she tell them?” It’s not that we weren’t going to tell the girls; it’s “fuck” as in “Fuck, I wanted to tell Valeria first,” to warn her not to get too excited, because it’s not real.
She’s the only one who knows about my feelings for Alejandra, and I don’t want her to slip up and say something she shouldn’t.
But she’s already staring at me, wide-eyed and excited. I subtly shake my head, and Valeria frowns, brow wrinkling.
“Wait, what?” Lily says.
“Explain.” Isabella tries—and fails—not to smile.
“We’re dating,” Alejandra says proudly as her hand squeezes tighter around mine.
Everyone goes quiet for a few seconds, watching each other.
I follow their gaze, trying to read their reactions, wondering what the hell they’re thinking.
I’ve always wondered if they’d support us dating.
Not that I thought they wouldn’t, we were so excited about Lily and Isabella, but still, you never know how people will react to switching their group’s dynamics.
“Finally,” Isabella says as she starts a slow clap. “I knew it!”
Now I’m the one who freezes. How is this the second person to say it? Have I been doing that terrible a job hiding my feelings for Alejandra? I try not to freak out at the thought, but it’s hard.
“What do you mean, you knew it?” Alejandra asks, eyes narrowed at Isabella.
My eyes dart around the room, searching for something to focus on, anything to calm the nervous energy suddenly bubbling inside me, but nothing’s grounding enough. So I sip on my mimosa instead, trying to focus on the bubbles fizzling down my throat.
Isabella shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the ‘I want to fuck you,’ vibes you and Clara ooze out every time you’re together.”
“The what?” I choke out, struggling to swallow the sip of mimosa that’s now gone down the wrong pipe, sending me into a coughing fit.
Valeria immediately rushes to my side and gently pats my back.
“We do not have ‘I want to fuck you’ vibes,” Alejandra protests.
“Oh, you do.” Isabella pops a piece of cheese into her mouth. “You’ve had it for years.”
I turn to Lily, hoping she’ll throw some reasoning into this, but she smiles and nods. “You two have had us betting on when it would happen for a while.”
I take another big gulp of my mimosa, trying to wrap my head around what they’re saying. None of this is making sense. Maybe I have been that obvious.
“You guys are different with each other, more intimate than you are with us,” Lily adds.
I can’t even argue that; she’s right. We’re more physical with each other than with anyone else. But that’s how we’ve always been. It’s hard not to develop an intense emotional and physical bond with someone who was your rock and safest place during one of the darkest times of your life.
That part of our friendship didn’t change when I realized my feelings for Alejandra.
We’re not any more intimate now than we were before.
Or is that how it looks to me? What if I wasn’t as subtle as I’d thought?
If Isabella and Lily are picking up on it, maybe everyone else is too.
Did Alejandra ever pick up on it? Maybe she’s always known but wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
The thought alone sends an icy shiver down my spine.
I shake my head, trying not to let myself spiral, because most of the time, it’s Alejandra who cuddles up to me, looks for me, or flirts with me. I try hard not to be the instigator because I know it’s different for me than it is for her.
I sneak a glance at Alejandra, but she’s just as confused as I am. I don’t think the idea of us together has ever crossed her mind. Something that’s both assuring and a little painful.
“So how’d it all start? Tell us everything; don’t skip any of the juicy details,” Lily says
“Or do,” Isabella adds, scrunching her nose.
Lily gently smacks her shoulder.
Alejandra sinks deeper into her chair. “There’s nothing to tell. Clara and I aren’t actually dating. Or we are, but it’s . . . fake. Just until after Diana’s wedding.”
They all exchange thoughtful looks but stay silent. Valeria’s eyes meet mine, gentle and full of love. And in that split second, she’s silently saying, I’m here for you.
There’s this sharp tug in my chest—a knot I can’t undo—and a tightness in my sinuses, but if I let myself dwell on it, I’m going to start crying, and I don’t know how I’ll be able to explain that. This fake relationship already feels like more than I can handle.
“Why are you guys doing this?” Valeria asks softly.
She looks between Alejandra and me, but I know she’s really asking me. It’s the question I’ve been avoiding. Because, yes, why would I put myself through this?
I explain the half-assed plan we came up with at bingo, but it sounds even more ridiculous as I say it out loud.
“What did Lala say?” Valeria asks, studying us.
“I think her exact words were ‘finally,’” Alejandra says with a little laugh.
Isabella smirks. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
I roll my eyes, but a bit of panic stirs up in me again, churning in my stomach.
“So, how is this going to work?” Lily sounds a little worried.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, have you guys talked about how long you’ve been together, when you got together, and how?”
“Why you aren’t together for real,” Isabella adds under her breath, trying—and failing—to hide the grin on her lips.
Jesus, why is Isabella pushing this so hard?
“No, we haven’t talked about all that.” Alejandra laughs.
“I’m surprised Lala didn’t ask already,” Valeria says.
“Yeah, well, she was probably too happy to think about it all. I’m sure the questions are coming. So we should probably figure something out.” Alejandra looks toward me with a sheepish grin.
I nod, excited to talk to her about “us,” even if it’s fake. For the longest time, being with her, calling her mine, was all I ever wanted. And now, even though it’s pretend, the thought still sends a flutter spiraling through my chest.
I’m usually able to suppress and ignore these emotions, but I’m feeling everything one hundred times over lately. Thankfully, my phone buzzes, and it distracts me.
It’s a message from Valeria. I look up at her, and she gives me a small, concerned smile.
Valeria 9:00 a.m.:
do you want to talk about it?
Clara 9:00 a.m.:
maybe later? We can go get coffee once everyone leaves
Valeria 9:00 a.m.:
ok
I lean into Valeria, who’s still standing next to me, and she wraps an arm around me and hugs me a little tighter than she usually does, something I desperately need in this moment.
Thankfully, we move past the whole fake-relationship-with-Alejandra conversation and eat. Then we watch a true crime docuseries Lily’s been begging us to start, and finally finish the 2,500-piece puzzle we’ve been working on for weeks.
By the time everyone leaves, it’s around 4 p.m., and all I want to do is lie in bed and rot as I mindlessly scroll through social media.
Anything to avoid thinking about my feelings, my fake relationship, or the fact that some of the most important people in my life seem to think Alejandra and I should be dating for real.
“Ready to go?” Valeria asks as we finish loading the dishwasher.
“Yeah,” I sigh and grab my wallet from the table by the front door.
“Where are you two heading?” Alejandra asks from the couch, where she’s scrolling through our sea of streaming services.
“Getting coffee,” I say quickly.
Alejandra glances at her phone. “This late?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“It’s not that late,” Valeria says. Even though it is. Alejandra knows better than anyone that I never drink coffee past 2 p.m., or I struggle to fall asleep.
“You know Clara won’t—”
“I love you. Talk to you later! Bye,” Valeria shouts, cutting Alejandra off as she pushes us out the door.
“Smooth.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughs. “I didn’t have an answer for whatever she was going to say next.”
Valeria and I start walking toward the coffee shop near my house in silence. I know she’s probably waiting for me to start the conversation, but I don’t know how. I’m still wrapping my head around it all, even though it’s been a few days.
Valeria finally breaks and asks, “So, you want to tell me how the hell you got roped into this?”
I inhale slowly. “I don’t even know.” I take a few more seconds to gather my thoughts before speaking again.
“I know I should have fought her harder when she brought it up, but I didn’t know how.
Scratch that, I didn’t want to. My mouth was not paying attention to my brain.
And before I knew it, I had agreed. After that, all I could think about was how maybe this could help me move on. ” I run a hand through my hair.
I sound so naive.
“Help you move on?” Valeria echoes. “I don’t understand.”
I rub hard at my forehead, my eyes fixed on a dark spot on the sidewalk that suddenly feels like the only solid thing in the world.
“I’ve spent years trying to move on,” I breathe. “And this is the only thing I haven’t tried. Maybe if I let myself have this, just for a little while, even if it’s fake, the feelings will burn out. Maybe getting some version of what I’ve wanted for so long will help me let it go.”
It sounds ridiculous now that I’m saying it out loud. I know feelings don’t work that way. I’m clinging to whatever lie gets me through the moment so that I can catch a glimpse of what could be if I were braver about my feelings.
Valeria doesn’t say anything, just chews on the inside of her bottom lip. Probably trying to find the kindest way to tell me I’m being silly. She’s always been the “mom” of the group. Sweet and gentle, so I know whatever is coming is most likely something I need to hear, but don’t want to.
When she finally speaks, she says exactly what I thought she would.
“That is a terrible idea.”
I nod. On some level, I know this.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want either of you to get hurt, but the only one at risk of that right now is you.”
“It’ll be fine. I know this isn’t real.”
“Clara, hearts and minds don’t always align.” She unhooks her arm from mine and wraps it around my waist, pulling me closer. “I know you think you know what you’re getting into, and I’m not going to try to stop you. I don’t want to. But please be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I know,” I say, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, my chest slowly tightening in on itself.
I’m not usually this emotional. Maybe it’s because the only way I get to be with Alejandra is by pretending, and it fucking sucks. This is the closest I’ll ever get to having her. It’s a boundary I set for myself, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“I’m here for you, every step of the way, you know that, right?” Valeria asks.
“I do.” I pull her into a hug. “Thank you.”
We don’t end up going to the coffee shop; we walk around aimlessly for a bit longer. In silence. Something I’m grateful for because my mind is spinning.