12. Dating Allegations
Chapter twelve
Dating Allegations
Aurora Driscoll
There are way too many eyes on me as I follow Hayes through the fraternity’s backyard gate. My stomach sloshes. I feel like I did twenty pirouettes without spotting. Once we’re on the other side of the fence, I feel marginally better, but now I’m wondering what they think we’re doing.
“Only the shadows would know what we said or did.”
I shiver at the memory. Hayes glances down at me, now to my right as we walk the sidewalk.
“Are you still cold?”
“I’m fine,” I bite out. “And so help me, Hayes, if you offer to warm me up—”
“I won’t,” he says quickly. “I have some self-preservation skills.”
“Your previous actions prove otherwise,” I grumble.
He stays quiet for a moment, and I focus on taking deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. Unfortunately, each breath is filled with him, because I’m wrapped in his stupid jacket. I shouldn’t have taken it. I shouldn’t have let him put his arm around me. Shouldn’t have even walked over to him.
Why did I walk over to him?
I stifle a groan. He’d looked so helpless standing next to Mckinleigh. I’d thought it would be funny to mess with them both, and maybe a part of me thought I could save him from his own stupidity, too. Now I’m paying for it.
“Hear me out.” Hayes speaks up as we pass beneath a streetlamp. His hair flashes amber in the light.
“I have a whole list of regrets for tonight. What's another?” I mutter.
“That’s the spirit,” he says with a tinge of amusement in his voice.
I shoot him a burning glare.
“Okay, I’ll come right out and ask: what if we pretended to date for a little while?”
“Why would I want to do that?” I ask, pulling my arms through his jacket as a cold wind blows.
Hayes scratches the back of his neck. “If we break up five seconds after everyone heard we’re dating, Mckinleigh will be back to her stalking ways.”
“What she did hardly qualifies as stalking, but I see your point nonetheless.” His expression turns hopeful, but I squash that hope like a bug with my next words. “I still don’t see how this benefits me.”
He sighs, his breath creating a cloud of white in front of him.
We’re nearing the quad now, and I can see the alcove with fairy lights up ahead.
It’s one of my favorite places to walk through at night, and I’d rather not poison the beauty with this.
I stop under the next streetlamp we encounter, and Hayes follows suit.
“I could—”
I hold up a hand. “If you say pay me, I will be forced to slap you.”
A laugh bursts out of him. “Forced, huh?”
“I’m not a prostitute, or an escort or—” I gag on the words. “A sugar baby. I won’t do this for any amount of money.”
Amusement dances in his green eyes.
“I was going to say I could keep other guys away from you. I’m guessing you have a bunch of them hitting on you, and if you turned me down, you must not want to date at all.” He says all of this as though it’s normal and not entirely egotistical.
“I turned you down because you lack responsibility and have an ego the size of a semitruck.”
“You want someone responsible?” he asks.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want anyone. I want to get through school and ballet unnoticed, that’s all.”
He points at me. “See, I can help with that.”
I give him a flat look. “I’ve never had so many eyes on me offstage in my life as when I’m with you. You’re like a zoo animal, and I don’t want any part of that exhibit.”
His expression falters a little, and I wonder if I went too far.
“Look, it’s nothing personal,” I say, and he lets out a disbelieving huff. “It’s just that I don’t want that kind of life.”
He bobs his head in understanding.
“Can you give it until our next class together to think about it?” he asks in a soft voice. “You don’t have to lie to anyone who asks about us. If they do, you could just ignore them or say you don’t want to talk about it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and look down at the leaves strewn across the sidewalk.
“A couple of days,” he adds. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right,” I whisper. “A couple of days.”
But just like when I signed the contract, I get the feeling that I’m giving away more than I initially agreed to.
“Thanks.”
I lift my head and see a sheepish smile on his lips. Much different from the cocky smirk I’m used to. The sight has my stomach fluttering.
“I should get home,” I blurt out.
“Oh, yeah, me too. Do you want me to walk you back?” he offers.
I shake my head. “No, that’s okay.”
He looks at me like he wants to insist, but doesn’t. Instead, he takes a step off the sidewalk to head in the direction of what I assume is his building.
“Okay, I’ll see you in class.”
“See you,” I murmur.
He disappears into the night, and I head down the path we were on before. Right as I pass beneath the twinkle lights, I realize I’m still wearing Hayes’s jacket. It seems no matter how much I try to get rid of him, he follows me.
My mind spins as I walk to my building. I think of how obnoxious and overly flirtatious he can be.
How he’s never studied before even though he’s a year ahead of me.
Then I think of how he gave me his jacket and didn’t ask for it back even though he must be cold too.
How he asked me about rehearsal and my day and seemed to actually care about the answer even while teasing me.
He runs an underground fight ring and goes through women like I go through pointe shoes, I remind myself. He’s not boyfriend material.
But fake boyfriend material, however … I shake my head and push through the doors to my building, not entirely sure how I got here since I wasn’t paying attention at all. As I get to the elevators, my phone buzzes in my dress pocket.
I pull it out, expecting a message from one of my friends since I bailed without talking to them, but it’s my mom, replying to the photo I sent her before the party.
Mom: You look so beautiful!! Are you having fun? Did you meet any boys? Have you decided about reaching out to Layton?
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I wish there was a way to get her to see I’m happy with my life now. Maybe I don’t live the typical college girl way, but I don’t want that. Ballet and school. That’s it. I even added in a few friends. What more can she ask of me? A lot more, apparently.
Hayes’s words from earlier float into my mind.
I can help with that. While I don’t have a line of guys asking me out, I do have a persistent mother.
One who would be ecstatic if I told her I had a boyfriend.
It would be hard to lie to her, but what’s really the difference between fake dating and real dating?
We’ll do all the same stuff in public, and I’ll get to have peace in private.
I let out a heavy sigh and step onto the elevator.
Avoiding the decision, I text my friends that I’m back at the apartment first. Then I swipe away some emails and various notifications.
All the while the knot in my stomach grows tighter and tighter.
I make my way back to my apartment, slide off my heels at the door, then fall onto the living room couch and stare at the dark TV screen.
My eyes squeeze shut. Am I really about to do this?
No more asking about my social life.
No more blind dates.
No more comments about wanting me to live life to the fullest.
Combine this with the money from tutoring, and all of my current problems are solved. By Hayes Rosewood, of all people.
I pick up my phone and open the text thread with Hayes. Type up a message I’m sure to regret. Then hit send and throw my phone across the couch.
Aurora: I’ll do it.