The Love Simulation

Chapter Twenty-Two

I wake up to a nudging at my shoulder and roll over, blinking sleep out of my eyes, to find Roman holding two cups of oatmeal. I sit up, leaning against the headboard as I smile at him.

“For the nourishment of your body,” he says, handing the bowl out to me. “May it keep you going and going and going.”

I roll my eyes as I take the proffered bowl in hand and set it in my lap. As Roman sits beside me, I briefly wonder if anyone saw him make the two bowls on camera and subsequently walk back to the room and out of eyesight. There may be a few raised eyebrows, if not outright suspicion, but surprisingly I can’t bring myself to care. After what we shared last night and how close we’ve gotten over the past few weeks, my heart won’t let me put anyone else above my desires.

Now, to figure out if Roman feels the same way.

“So,” I start, stirring my oatmeal and blowing on it to cool it down. “Just two more weeks until the simulation is over. A few more weeks to recoup. Then we’re back to school. Back to good ol’ schoolio.”

Roman settles against the headboard next to me. “Summers always go by too fast.”

“They sure do. Once the fall semester starts, I’m already looking forward to summer again.” I take a bite of my oatmeal. “You know, the other breaks throughout the year are nice too. But if I had to rank them in order of importance, it would go: summer, Christmas break, spring break, and then the extra day off we get for MLK Day. I mean, I personally don’t think his dream was for teachers and the like to struggle as much as we do, but the day to lift up the king is nice.”

I stuff a large spoonful into my mouth this time so I’ll stop talking.

Roman looks at me with raised eyebrows then smiles and nods in agreement. “I feel you on that MLK Day. He one hundred percent did not intend for us teachers to have to struggle as much as we do.”

My oatmeal goes down smoothly as my chest lightens. I love how he just gets me. Accepts my quirks when anyone else would write me off. It makes sense; he said we’re a perfect match.

We eat in a comfortable silence while I turn the words over in my head to ask Roman about what comes after the simulation. To ask about more . More time with him. More hugs and kisses. More mind-blowing nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms. Maybe this is another one of my impulsive decisions like joining the simulation was, but look where that got me—eating breakfast with Roman after spending the previous night making love.

I turn my body to face him. “Roman, have you considered what happens after?”

“After?”

“Yeah. What if we don’t end? After the simulation, what if we just keep seeing each other? I know it was my idea to keep this limited, so if you want to stick to our original terms I get it. But if you want to take a chance to see where this relationship can really go…” I trail off, my heart hammering inside my chest with the hope he isn’t about to rip it into shreds.

“You really want to keep seeing me?” he asks like he’s surprised.

Is Martian dust red? “Of course I do.”

Roman doesn’t answer, but he does crush his lips to mine, which I guess is all the answer I need. When this is over, I get to keep him.

When our kiss ends, our foreheads still press against each other. “Roman, I want you to know, I want to be with you, but I also want to protect both of our reputations. I’m not ashamed to be with you, but we wouldn’t be able to flaunt our relationship at school. Is that something you can accept?”

“I would never put your career in jeopardy. And I can’t say much right now, but school may not even be an issue. I’m not sure if I’ll be back in my position when school starts again.”

I back up so I can get a good look at him. “Wait, what? What are you planning to do?”

“I still have options I’m considering, and nothing is set in stone. But either way, you and me are good. We’re more than good, Bri. Always believe that.”

I want all the details, but at the thought of the freedom we’d have if Roman and I no longer worked at the same school, my heart flies that much higher. Am I really about to have it all—the career and the man? I lean in and kiss Roman again, unable to keep my hands off him even knowing we need to get the day started.

Roman grabs the forgotten bowl from my lap and places it by his on the headboard then leans back into me.

“We need to go out and start the day,” I attempt to say. Most of my words are swallowed up by his mouth against mine, but I’m certain he gets the bulk of my message.

Roman pulls away from me, but not off the bed. Rising to his knees, he takes off the shirt he put on to go to the kitchen. “See, that’s the thing. An important part of this whole simulation is the human element and bonding, right?”

Bonding was mostly important at the beginning stages of the simulation. We’ve moved way beyond that, though I’m not about to contradict him now that he’s taken off his shirt.

He takes my silence as encouragement to keep going and smirks. “In the name of team bonding, I can’t very well have you start the day without an orgasm. What kind of teammate would that make me?”

He’s back to using that tone. The one that causes students to rush to vacate the halls when they’re out loitering. The one he used to take charge when the meteorites were crashing through his and Jordan’s bedroom, even though he was in pain. The one teachers like to call his Major Pain tone. But the only pain I feel is the mental pain of him not being inside me right now.

Obviously fed up with my lack of response, Roman narrows his eyes and leans in closer. “I’m waiting for an answer. What kind of teammate would I be if I let you start your day without an orgasm?”

“A bad one,” I get out of my throat, which is thickened with lust.

He licks his lips. “That’s right. Now, throw off that sheet and open your legs.”

What if, after the simulation is over, rather than go back to work, I just…don’t? What if I stay in bed all day every day, waiting for Roman to come home and repeat these exact words?

He lifts an eyebrow when, once again, I’m too dumbstruck by him to respond. But dumbstruck does not equal noncompliant. I fling off the sheet and open my legs.

Two days later, I’m washing our two bowls clean from breakfast while humming “Cater 2 U” by Destiny’s Child. It was fun imagining waiting for Roman to come home after a long day at work while I wait in bed for him, but around the twentieth iteration of my daydream, I started to feel a little selfish. In a relationship there needs to be both give and take to make it work. I shifted my imagination to thoughts of me welcoming him home with a nice smooch on the mouth before I help him take off his jacket and shoes and lead him to the bedroom I’ve so painstakingly prepared for a peaceful homecoming. Where I then proceed to lay it down.

What does it say that my daydreams don’t have me working, and certainly not being vice principal?

Nothing , I decide. Just because I daydream of not being vice principal doesn’t mean that’s what I really want. Daydreams are fun, but in the end, they’re just for fun. And of course, I can’t help but daydream about spending every waking moment I’m able to getting my fill of Roman. My Roman.

“What are you smiling over there for?” Roman asks.

I blink away images of him losing control in our future shared bed and look at the real-life version of Roman dusting the comms station. “Oh, nothing,” I answer, grateful my skin is too dark to show any blushing.

As I dry the bowls, a notification sound comes from the comms system. As has become habit born of PTSD from our first few weeks of calamity, my heart jolts at the sound. Roman’s quick “It’s just an incoming message” puts me at ease.

“Anything we need to be worried about?” I ask, hoping it’s a simple, friendly check-in from Mission Control.

“Nah,” Roman says, and I breathe easier until he continues. “It’s another round of video messages from our families and friends.”

Well, that is almost worse. Not that I don’t want to hear from my family. But since being here, I’ve gone against every single warning Camille gave me. Hell, I stopped avoiding touching Roman in sight of the cameras after our night together. We haven’t been doing any obvious PDA like kissing when we’re out in the open, but there have been some lingering touches on my end, presses of his hand against the small of my back that I’ve leaned into, and the way we sat together on the couch when we finally decided to turn on the TV because Roman agreed to watch Hamilton with me.

While I’m ready to move forward in my relationship with Roman, I’m not ready to face Camille or anyone else commenting on how cozy the two of us are together.

I make my voice sound nonchalant. “I’m glad it’s only the messages. I’ll check on mine later. I want to see how the dandelions are doing first. Are you going to check your messages?”

Roman is silent for a beat before answering. “I don’t have any. I’ll keep cleaning.”

Something about his tone seems off. Could it be that he’s disappointed his dad still hasn’t sent a message? I know their relationship isn’t what I thought it was, and maybe Roman is upset. Before I go to the greenhouse, I walk by Roman and squeeze his bicep. “Okay. Maybe after we’re both done with the morning chores, we can hang out in the greenhouse by the rock pond.”

Roman bends down and kisses my cheek. It’s my most reckless move by far, but it’s not like I’ll be his vice principal for long anyway. “It’s a date,” he says.

I interlock my fingers so I won’t look totally whipped by covering my heart with my hand as I walk away.

It’s those damned dandelions again. There is something wrong with the pipes. No matter what kind of adjustments we make, the soil remains wet. I mentioned to Roman that I thought we should dump the soil and start fresh, but he said we should give it a couple more days to see if he could fix it. As much as he’s read the manuals and has been able to fix everything else that had broken down, it must have been a matter of pride that he can’t nail down what the issue with the pipes is.

I feel the soil, and my finger comes away with bits of moist dirt stuck to it. We’re running out of time. Roman may want to avoid the hassle of switching everything out, but it’s the only way if we’re going to complete this task in time. It’s the last big one we need.

Decided on the best course of action, I test the heavy planter to see if I can empty it myself. I grunt as I try to heft it up, but it doesn’t budge. Time to bring in the muscles.

I open the door to get Roman and stop when I hear a voice that isn’t Roman’s; I immediately recognize Principal Major’s voice. Odd. I thought he didn’t send Roman anything. Or maybe it’s a message with the teachers and superintendent included again. I walk forward to see who all is in the message, but the words playing halt me in my steps.

“ You’ve been doing a good job getting close to her and gaining her trust. I know this isn’t something you wanted to do, but it’s best for the school… ”

I don’t hear anything else. I can’t. For the last few weeks, I’ve been flying in the clouds, and gravity has finally caught up. I’m falling back to reality, and I see everything so clearly. Roman didn’t come here with the intent to help us win and get the library remodeled. The exact opposite, actually. And everything we’ve shared, the feelings he proclaims to have for me, are as fake as this simulation.

I don’t know how long I stand there putting all the pieces together until Roman is standing in front of me. Eyebrows pinched as he gazes at me, he looks worried. More, he looks guilty. And I hope, above all other emotions he may portray, that the guilt is real. That he feels it in his soul. Here I was, thinking we had something special and making plans for the future, and all the while, Roman had his own set of plans.

“You heard everything?” he asks.

I sniff, because of course my emotions wouldn’t miss their time to shine, and swallow the knot of heartache down. “I heard enough.”

“I can explain.”

Do I want to hear his explanation? I was at the top of my graduating class. I’ve pretty much got it figured out. Got him and his motivations figured out.

But I’ve also got a soft heart. Too soft for my own good where Roman is concerned. And part of me wants him to prove me wrong. Maybe Principal Major wants to turn Roman as heartless and cutthroat as he is, but Roman isn’t his dad. The red haze is fading, no doubt aided by the release of tears, and I nod. “I’m waiting.” I won’t make this easy.

“Can we go somewhere private?” He gestures to the bedroom, and I stride ahead without a word.

If I open my mouth, I’m not sure if what comes out will be a simple acquiescence to hear him out or if I’ll act out of character and end up cussing out Roman and his daddy.

We make it to the room and I sit on the bed, leaving no space for Roman. I fold my arms across my chest and raise my eyebrows. I’m pretty sure Roman’s got the hint— let me hear what you have to say, and it better be good.

He clears his throat and begins. “I’m not going to try and gaslight you. You heard my dad talking about me ruining the mission here.”

At the revelation I knew was coming, I close my eyes. Yes, I knew it was coming, but I can’t even stand to look at Roman as he confirms that my suspicions were correct from the very beginning.

“He really doesn’t want that library built,” Roman continues. “When he found out you were joining the simulation to get the money for the library anyway, he wanted me to come in and make sure it wasn’t successful. You weren’t successful.”

“And, what? You just went along with it?” How could I have allowed myself to believe him? I knew what his motives were from the jump. But my stupid—because there is absolutely no other word for it—crush on him had me behaving like a hormonal preteen, glad the cool and sexy kid was showing me attention.

“I let him think I was going along with it.”

I don’t hold his gaze. And I don’t believe him.

“Bri,” he pleads. “You’ve got to believe that the only one I was fooling was my dad.”

I explode from the bed. “Here’s what I know, Mr. Major . From the very beginning, I asked why you were here. I knew it was because of your dad, and yet you denied it.” I hold up my pointer finger and begin ticking off his offenses. “I know we’ve had mysterious breakdowns like, I don’t know, the damn sprinklers overwatering the dandelions. Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe it’s by design. I know that on one of our most crucial tasks, getting the antenna fixed, you happened to come down with a migraine and couldn’t help. Funny how you didn’t have one all school year. And I know”—my voice breaks as I pop a third finger up—“all school year you’ve done nothing but ignore me. But suddenly we’re here, where the stakes are as high as can be, and your dad has sent you on a mission to derail everything. Well, what better way to get me distracted than to pretend to be into me.” My chin is trembling, and hot, angry, ugly tears are falling down my cheeks, but I don’t care. My heart is breaking and I need to let it out now so it doesn’t suffocate me later. Roman might have been raised by a parent who taught him to be callous and aloof, and it’s clear he wants to honor that. If these tears make him uncomfortable or make me look weak, then so be it.

“It’s not like that, Brianna,” Roman says softly. His tone is so heartbreakingly sad, it gets through the haze. “I know all those things you mentioned make me seem suspect. I won’t try to explain any of it away. But the one thing I will fight until you hear me is that I did not try to get close to you to distract you. My intentions with you have always been to make you mine. Even knowing you’re everything that’s good in this world, Earth, and especially Mars, and I don’t deserve to be with you, let alone breathe the same air as you do.”

With each word he utters, my heart grows softer and softer. I’m quickly losing the will to fight against him. What if I put on my space suit and ran for the highest hill? Would that be enough distance to keep his words from penetrating my heart? If I actually went to Mars, would that do it?

“I want to be with you, Brianna. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that. Everything I feel for you, everything you feel for me, it’s all real.”

I want to clamp my hands over my ears and shake my head no. I don’t want to hear these pretty words. But at the same time, I want to bathe in them. Luxuriate in every syllable, every consonant, and let them be a balm to my stinging heart.

“Roman,” I plead. I need him to stop talking before I do something stupid like forgive him.

But he doesn’t. He gets right in my personal space and cups my cheeks in his hands. “Everything between us is real.” He repeats it over and over, trying to make me believe him. Trying to make me trust him again.

It takes effort, but I back out of his hold and put some much-needed space between us. I’m able to think a little clearer without the distraction of his touch.

I’ve been built up then let down by him three times now. When I found out he’d been telling the teachers I was leaving. When he blindsided me by showing up as part of our team. And now that I’ve found out he’s been lying about his purpose here. Three strikes, you’re out. He may be saying all the right things, but I would be dumb to let this go and not expect to be hurt again.

I shake my head. “This isn’t something I can just forgive and forget. You should have told me from the very beginning about your dad’s plans, especially when I asked you point-blank. Now I don’t know if I can trust you.” I swallow and take a deep breath. “I need time. By myself.”

Roman watches silently as I climb into the bed and close the screen, leaving him on the other side. Our day isn’t even close to done, but I can’t be near him right now.

After a few moments, I hear his footsteps move farther away, and the door opens and shuts as he leaves the bedroom.