Chapter 8 Claire
Claire
Jacks did agree to a hard launch, and he even let me tag him. I don't have many followers, but this has already become my most liked post ever.
And it’s only been one day.
I feel like I’m in over my head, but there's no going back now. This honestly excites me a little bit. I’ve never done something like this before.
I’ve never been petty and wanted to make someone feel as bad as I did.
It’s refreshing in a way. It feels good not to be constantly tiptoeing around someone else’s feelings because Jacks is always up front with what he feels.
As far as I know—which isn't much—he doesn't make rash decisions, and I’m excited to get to know him more over the next few months.
My thoughts are cut off by the feeling of a hand in mine. When I look down at where it rests on the table, I notice that Jacks is mindlessly rubbing his thumb over my hand. It feels good, and I doubt he knows he’s doing it because he’s tapping away at his phone.
His hand feels nice in mine. It almost feels natural the way we do this.
Even though we both know it’s fake, I think it helps that it’s so easy for us.
We both might be nervous as hell right now, but on the outside, we just look like two people eating lunch together.
Our two sandwiches remain fairly untouched because we both seem too nervous to eat.
“So, we should go over the rules for this arrangement,” I say to him.
“Yeah, yes, of course. What sort of rules do you have in mind?”
“PDA is fine—my love language is physical touch—but for now stick to cheek kisses as we get to know each other.”
“Noted.” He smiles at me. “My love language is words of affirmation. What else?”
“I love that you know that.” I pause before saying my next rule. “Don't fall in love with me,” I say, and he just laughs.
“I didn't mean to laugh, this entire conversation reminds me of every fake dating movie ever. I just never thought—”
“Never thought you’d be living one in real life? Yeah, me neither.”
“It is kinda fun, though. I won't fall in love with you, Claire. Unless you make me, and then that’s entirely your fault.”
My mouth falls open as butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Jacks Moore, I’m serious. It’s too soon for me, and I wouldn't be able to give you what you deserve. I’m sure your last girlfriend was probably better for you, considering we’re fake dating, so I’m sorry about all this.”
“If she existed, she still wouldn't hold a candle to you, gorgeous. Trust me on that.” His eyes meet mine, and I feel my heart start to race. He’s never had a girlfriend? Is that what he just said? “What else?”
“Uh…I think that’s it for me. What rules do you have?”
His eyebrows pull together as he thinks. “When you photograph my games, you wear my jersey. Between us, we’re fake, obviously. But I want everyone on campus to know that you’re mine. I want to flaunt you around as much as I can. Okay?”
My cheeks heat when he says that. Clay never used to have me wear his stuff. He always told me it was too dirty, or some other excuse. Jacks saying all of that is making me feel all sorts of things that are leaning into dangerous territory, but I brush it off for right now. “I’m okay with that.”
“Good, and there’s no timeline on this. I’m at your mercy, Claire. You tell me we’re done with this, and we’re done, okay? You have all the power here.” Our eyes are locked, and I feel like he’s staring right into my soul.
“Noted.” Why did hearing him say that to me feel as good as it did?
Jacks then slides his phone over to me, and I pause, wondering what he wants me to look at. When I grab it, I see my contact profile up on his phone. “Uhhh, what’s up?”
“I wanted you to add a picture and whatever you want your name to be in my phone. I didn't want to do it for you in case you wanted something specific.”
“Oh, okay.” I open up the camera on his phone and take a few pictures.
Most of the faces I make are stupid and silly, but I notice Jacks watches me the entire time with a huge smile on his face.
I swipe back over to my contact and put the picture in.
I keep my name the same, but I add a camera emoji next to my name, just because.
Before I give him his phone back, something in my contact notes catches my eye.
I scroll down to where it says “All Things Claire,” and notice that Jacks has a list of things about me in it, like little reminders.
My peanut allergy is in all caps, he’s marked down that I love Hallmark Christmas movies, and he even noticed that when I’m nervous, I fiddle with the rings I always wear. My love language is also on the list.
My pulse thrums in my ears, as I look at one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. The fact that he made sure to write down stuff that he knew was important about me is really nice of him. He’s committed to this, and I don't know how I’ll ever be able to thank him.
“Here ya go,” I say as I hand his phone back, trying to make it seem like I didn't see any of that because I don't know if he wants me to know about it yet. Or ever.
But God, why does knowing he did something so small and simple for me make my stomach feel all weird? Maybe it's nerves, but I need to shake those off so this looks convincing enough.
“Thanks.” He returns a smile and continues rubbing his thumb over my hand. He meets my eyes for a second and then stops when he notices what he’s doing. “I’m sorry, was that too much?”
“No, no. It was good. It felt nice.”
“Oh good, okay.” He pauses before continuing with thumb. “So, what's your favorite Christmas movie?”
“Hmmmm…” I pause to think through this question. There are some movies I watch for comfort, some to make me laugh, and some just because they’re cheesy and make me feel happy for an hour and a half. “I’m going to have to go with A Very Merry Mix-Up.”
“I think I’ve seen that one before. It sounds familiar.”
“It’s my mom and I’s favorite. We rewatch it every year around Christmas time because it’s just so bad that it’s good. We also like to shit on the husband because he was an asshole from the beginning, and practically a walking red flag.”
“Is that the one where she goes to the wrong house but she thought it was the right one because they had the same last name as her fiancé?”
“Yup.” It’s insane that Jacks knows all this stuff about movies. I only said the name, and he knew what movie I was talking about. “So, what’s your favorite rom-com?”
“You’ve Got Mail.”
“Oh, a classic then. That’s a good one. Is there a reason why it’s your favorite?” I ask him, wanting to know where his love of it came from.
“It’s the first one my mom showed me when I was little.
It’s her favorite movie of all time, and even though my dad hates movies, he always sits down to watch her favorites with us.
I think that was when I first realized what love was.
Sitting through a cheesy movie with the person you love, even though you hate it, because you love seeing them happy.
” He pauses before continuing, “I used to sit on our couch and watch my mom recite all the lines to the movie. She knew all of them because she had seen it so many times. One day, I looked over at my dad and he was staring at my mom awestruck as she recited them.”
“That’s really sweet. My dad would never do that for my mom, he physically cringes when something romantic comes on.
” My parents love each other, of course they do, but they show it in different ways.
My dad always wakes up early, before my mom, to make sure her coffee is ready for her when she wakes up.
They do things differently, but I guess that reaffirms the statement that love looks different for everybody.
Love will never look exactly the same to you as it does to someone else.
Before Jacks can say anything else, his eyes flit to the door and his eyes drop slightly. I turn to look around, but he grabs both of my hands and shakes his head at me. What?
“He’s here.” Jacks doesn't even have to say his name because I already know who he is. I’ve also found that since agreeing to do this with me, Jacks refuses to say Clay’s name—at least in the two days we’ve been fake dating he hasn't.
My mind starts to panic. “Should we do something? Oh God, Jacks why are we doing this? Everyone is going to see right through us. I don't know how I expected this to go—”
“Claire.” I meet his eyes, and he gives me a soft smile. “It’s just us, okay? He doesn't matter, nobody else matters. We’re just two people eating lunch together.”
I nod as I take a calming breath and squeeze his hand, letting him silently know that I appreciated what he said.
He’s right. Of course, he’s right. God, how is he so good at this?
I change the subject and try not to think about how nervous I am right now.
“I know you're majoring in sports management but—”
A voice cuts me off. “Claire.”
I don't even have to turn around to know who it is. I guess this was bound to happen eventually…
I paste on the fakest smile I can, and turn around to face him.
“Clay.” He looks…fine. I thought I was going to turn around and see a whole new version of him, but all I see is a coward.
A coward who broke my heart, and left me for a girl that looks exactly like me, just a thousand times prettier. “It’s nice to see you.”
His eyes are piercing mine, and I can practically feel the anger seeping off him as he realizes who I’m sitting with. Good. He better feel like his heart just bottomed out of his chest. It’s what he deserves. “Yeah, you too. How have you been?”
I hear Jacks grumble, and I realize that I have yet to introduce them. “I’ve been great. School’s been taking up a lot of my time, along with this one over here.” I point to Jacks. “Clay, you know Jacks, right? He’s one of the starters for the hockey team this year.”
Clay tenses his jaw, in anger, as he reaches his hand out to shake Jacks’ hand. But Jacks doesn't move from his seat, he just smiles at him as I take a sip of water. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re on the intramural baseball team here, right?”
I choke on the water I was just drinking as I hold my laughter down. Oh my God. Clay looks tense as he lowers his hand, and tilts his head to the side, clearly annoyed. This might be the best day of my life.
“Varsity baseball, actually.”
“Ohhhh, right. Sorry about that.” Jacks smiles.
“It’s no problem.” Clay tries to play it off, but anyone could tell how pissed he is right now.
He always shows his emotions through his face, and he’s not doing a very good job at hiding that right now.
While the two of them engage in some sort of stare off for dominance, Clay’s new girl slides up next to him beside where he stands.
God, she’s even prettier in person. “Claire, this is Evangeline. Evangeline, Claire.”
She smiles at me. “It’s nice to meet you.” I bet.
“Yeah, you too.” I smile back at her.
“And you are?” she asks Jacks, but he’s already packing up our stuff. He stands and has my backpack on his shoulder. How did he grab that so fast?
“Claire, we’re going to be late for class.” He comes around and makes it so that Clay and Evangeline have to move out of the way. Jacks pulls my chair out for me, and motions for me to get up. Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the simple gesture. Damn, he’s good at this whole fake dating thing.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I smile at him as I get up. When I look back at Clay, his teeth are clenched so hard that I can almost hear it from here. “Nice to meet you, Evangeline.” She smiles at me. “Clay.”
“Good to see you. I hope you're doing well.”
“Oh, she’s doing more than well. That I can promise you, Cole.” Jacks smiles as he locks our hands together.
“Clay.”
“Right.” He turns us away from that situation, and we calmly walk out of the dining hall hand in hand. When we get outside, the two of us burst out laughing.
“Oh my God! I was trying so hard not to laugh, but the intramural joke and you calling him by the wrong name was hilarious.”
“The look on his face was priceless,” Jacks smiles at me, still holding onto my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you feel any better?”
“Sort of.” I glance over at him. “Thank you for doing this. It means a lot that you agreed to help me even though we don't know each other that well yet.”
“Yet being the keyword. Don't worry, gorgeous. We have all the time in the world.”
Gorgeous. “Jacks, he’s not around anymore.”
“And?”
“And you don't have to keep the charade up all the time,” I say while trying to silence the tension in my gut. What is wrong with me?
“I know, but I’m doing it just in case. Who knows, Clay could have spies around campus trying to keep tabs on you.” He looks over at me and winks, and I laugh as the two of us walk to class together. Should I hold his hand? No. This is all fake anyway, and it’s our first outing.
Baby steps, Claire.