Chapter 7 The Fake Dating #2
His features are barely recognizable under the purplish bruises blooming around his eyes.
A gash splits his left eyebrow, still oozing slightly despite the bloodied towel pressed against it, and his bottom lip is swollen, a deep cut etched into the corner.
Strands of dark blond hair hang limp and damp with sweat, plastered against his forehead.
He touches the side of his jaw gingerly, wincing. “No big deal,” he mutters, as if he doesn’t look like he just walked out of a bar brawl. His green eyes are bloodshot and dulled. “I hope you don’t mind I let myself in.” He holds up the bloodied towel sheepishly. “And used your towel to clean up.”
“Of course not. Everything in here is yours, too.” I suppress a grimace, noticing he picked a white towel. “I’ll get you some ice.”
I stalk toward the kitchen, my mind racing. The last time I saw Ethan was on his birthday, almost a year ago, and I know he’s angry at me. He just won’t say it.
It’s my fault. It’s been five years since our parents died, and I didn’t fight to keep us close. Now I don’t know a single thing about him, and the first time I see him in a year, he’s bleeding on my couch.
Shoving the nagging sense of guilt deep down, I walk back and hand him the makeshift ice pack. “So? Did you lose a fight against King Kong?”
Ethan presses the bundle of ice to his bruised cheek. “Just ran into some trouble. But if I’d showed up at home like this, Grandma would have killed me.”
I take a seat on the couch. “That definitely doesn’t look like just ‘some trouble,’ Ethan.”
He rolls his eyes and leans back, staring up at the ceiling like he’s already over this conversation. “Seriously, what’s a Sherlock?”
“A cat.”
He gasps. “You have a cat?”
“Yeah. He’s not here, though.” I shrug. “Illicit love scandal with a labradoodle.”
“Wow.” Ethan shifts, pressing the ice pack against his split lip. “I’ve always wanted a pet—well, a dog, ’cause I’m normal.”
“Hey,” I warn cautiously. “Seriously, Ethan, what happened to your—”
“What’s new with you? Besides the cat—you know, he’d eat you if you died.”
“Well, I plan to stay alive for the time being.” I know he’s avoiding the topic of his face and whatever happened to it, but I try to think of something interesting to tell him about my mundane life.
“Uh, I’ve got a new assignment at work. Romance.
If the trial run goes well, I’ll be making double what I do now. ”
He nods, seemingly impressed. “I’ve listened to your podcast a few times.”
“Really?” I actually feel nervous. “What did you think?”
“That you’re a nerd,” he mocks. “I never read a book and had thirty minutes’ worth of stuff to say about it.”
“Aren’t you charming?” I shoot back. But seeing him snicker makes my heart swell. I can’t remember the last time I saw him happy.
“What about you?” I ask. “School okay?”
“It’s fine. All my old friends are at Willowbrook High.”
“I’m sure you’ve made new friends in Wethersfield.”
He shrugs, a little too nonchalantly. “Not at school, but yeah. Jace. Grandma doesn’t like him, though, so…” He shakes his head. “I don’t see him a lot.”
“Why doesn’t she like him?” All I get in response is a grunt, so I ask, “What about love? Are you dating anyone?”
He frowns and looks away.
Bingo. “Do you go to school together?”
“I’m not dating anyone,” he snaps, voice sharp and defensive.
Uh-huh, sure. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” His frown deepens. “Are you dating someone?”
I stumble over my words, caught off guard. “Uh, I—no.”
“Uh-huh.” He raises an eyebrow. “Sure sounds convincing.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “I’m not! I’d tell you.”
He opens his mouth to rebut this, but a cacophony of bangs and angry shouting outside has us both turning our heads toward the door. What the hell?
“Wait here,” I say as I stand and rush to the door, then look through the window. It’s Vanessa, wearing her police uniform. But who is she fighting with?
“Shit,” I squeal when she turns around and shoves a cuffed Rafael onto the hood of his car, his gray eyes bulging out as he absorbs the hit.
What the hell did he do now?
I come out in a flurry, both Vanessa and Rafael looking up. “Scarlett, please step back,” she calls.
Ignoring her, I rush down the steps. “What is happening?”
“Everything is okay. If you could just enter the house and close the door—”
I walk closer. “No. Vanessa, what the hell?”
“Yeah, Vanessa, what the hell?” Rafael says, catching his breath. His white tank top clings to his chest, streaked with dirt from the hood of the car. The tattoos winding along his arms tense as he shifts, his hands cuffed behind him.
She glares at him. “I found this creep snooping in your backyard.”
My eyes dart to Rafael, then back to her. “That’s not— You know he’s my neighbor.”
“Well, he wasn’t on his property.” She puts more pressure on the cuffs, and Rafael groans. A curl of brown hair flops over his forehead, and he blows it away with an irritated puff of breath. “Were you? He was peeping into your place.”
“I was not—”
“Shut up,” she barks.
“You’re arresting him for… being in my backyard?”
“He couldn’t explain why he was there,” she says. “Don’t worry, okay? He’s not under arrest. We’ll just ask him a couple of questions down at the station.”
She pats Rafael’s shoulder and pulls him back up, but I take a step forward. “Wait, Vanessa.” I can’t let Rafael get arrested. This is ridiculous. “He’s… he wasn’t snooping. We’re…” Oh God, I think I get fake dating now. “Seeing each other.”
She straightens, lips parted. “He’s your boyfriend? This guy?”
Rafael scoffs. “Gee, thanks.”
Vanessa ignores him, eyes still set on mine.
“Yes, whatever. He’s my… boyfriend. Can you uncuff him? Those must be painful.”
“They are,” Rafael says, though judging by the giddy smile on his face as he looks up at me, he’s not in that much pain.
Vanessa pulls him back up. She looks upset, probably because I lied to her face earlier today. “Sorry, I guess. I just… I didn’t know.”
Rafael grins lazily. “I’m a recent addition. You know, a plot twist.”
I shoot him a look, silently begging him to stop talking. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s all really new.”
The cuffs click open, and Rafael rubs his wrists. “Thanks, Vanessa. Real gentle touch you’ve got there.”
“Don’t push it,” she warns, glowering at him before turning back to me. “And Scarlett, call me if you see anyone sketchy. Even if it’s your boyfriend.”
I wave. “Thanks, I will.”
With a final suspicious glance at Rafael, she heads back to her car. As soon as she’s out of earshot, I whirl around to face him. “Are you okay?”
He rubs his wrists again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Your boyfriend, huh?”
Great. I think his brain disconnected after that.
“I had to say something,” I say, crossing my arms.
He laughs, deep and amused. “Not that I’m complaining, but you could have said I was helping you with a window that was stuck, or that you’d heard a noise in the backyard and sent me to check, or that you couldn’t find your keys, or—”
“Yes,” I burst out, walking back to the house. “I get it.”
But I panicked, that’s it. And I guess I was still thinking about the stupid fake-dating book.
I only notice Rafael following once I step past the open door and Ethan’s eyes move to him.
“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
He watched that entire performance, didn’t he?
“Rafael, this is my brother, Ethan. Ethan, you might remember Rafael. He used to live next to us.” I watch the two of them shake hands, and when all eyes are on me again, I add, “And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Really?” Ethan glances over at Rafael, eyebrows raised. “He’s looking at you like he’s your boyfriend.”
I follow Ethan’s gaze to Rafael, who’s standing there with a goofy smile, eyes bright, as though he’s still riding the high of what I said. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”
Ethan gathers his things, and my stomach quickly clenches. “Wait—where are you going?”
“Home,” he says, not meeting my eye.
“Already?” I sound a little too desperate, even to myself. “Why don’t you stay for dinner? We can order from Mario’s. You love their pizza.”
“It’s fine, really.” He throws his bag over his shoulder and heads toward the door. “You’re busy. With your cat and your podcast and your boyfriend.”
“I’m never too busy for you,” I say, his resentment digging a hole in my chest. When he ignores me, I follow him out. “At least let me drive you home.” Our grandparents’ place is a twenty-minute ride from here, and last I heard, Ethan didn’t have a car.
“I’m on my bike.”
I step out after him onto the porch, grasping for reasons to keep him here. “Well, I can fit it in the back of the car—”
He cuts me off. “It’s fine.”
I watch him unlock his bike from the fence, my chest tightening. I so want to be the cool sister. The one he can confide in, who respects his privacy and doesn’t sweat the fact that someone hurt him. But I’m also an adult, and I can’t ignore it.
“Ethan, we really need to talk about your face. Someone obviously attacked you—”
The moment he whips around, anger flashing across his face, I regret insisting.
“Let it go, Scarlett,” he barks, his voice raw and bitter. He turns away from me and starts to pedal as he says, “Just like you did last time.”