My Fake Boyfriend

Just Give Me A Reason

My promise to hear Aaron out is how we ended up here.

Me, on the floor of my bedroom, and Aaron lying down on my bed, his phone hovering over his face.

I had hoped to avoid allowing him entrance to the confines and comfort of my own home, but of course, Aaron had other plans. After promising to tell me everything, he used all his charm to persuade me to let him come over to talk through the plan.

And, Lord knows, he had a lot of charm.

Fortunately, Mum was out visiting one of her friends and I thanked the Lord that at least something was going right today. For the last half hour, he'd been here, I had tried to bring the topic of his reasoning about his plan, but he had changed the subject swiftly, proving it was still a sore subject. It was either the avoidance or just blatantly ignoring me as he perused through his phone.

He spent the last 5 minutes texting his friends, not even bothering to offer me a coherent response and merely looked at his phone, making my teeth grit in anger as I waited arms folded for his attention again. Yet Aaron paid no heed, so I chose then to voice my irritation again.

"Aaron, I've literally been trying to talk to you for 5 minutes" I repeated, frustrated beyond belief from his lack of response. I made sure I said it louder this time as I eyed him.

In the hallways of school, I had seen some semblance of humanity to him when he spoke of his sadness but- here- his actions only reinforced what I had thought of him all along- he was an unthinking and unfeeling male who thought of only his own entertainment. Life seemed like a game to him, and I envied that I wasn't half as ignorant or as gullible as him.

"Yeah," he muttered, not even taking his eyes off the phone and this made my anger rise.

"My house isn't a bed and breakfast, so you either spit it out or leave," I flatly stated, and he raised his eyes slightly, glancing at me with distracted eyes.

"Oh sorry, it's- give me a second." he mumbled to himself, looking at his phone again and not even giving me a satisfying answer.

My anger had reached its limit way before this, but now, it was at an all-time high. I leaped off the floor and stomped my way to the bed. Yet, he still wasn't looking up at me. I grabbed the phone off him and scowled at his lack of concentration.

"Okay, I seriously am trying to help you, but I can't if you're going to get distracted so easily!

Understand?" I broke off, my eyes flitting pointedly at the phone in my hand but immediately regretted it. I let out a squeal, tossing the phone away from my face and to the floor.

This made Aaron break out into laughter, which was probably the first real response I had gotten from him this entire time.

I should've seen that coming. I mean, he is the player of Redwood High. I couldn't imagine him having the most decent of conversations with anyone, but to do that in such casualness as I spoke to him? I couldn't help the bile that rose to my throat as I looked to him, and he stopped laughing when he saw me glaring.

"Sorry," he breathed, the laughter still apparent in his tone, not even sounding the slightest bit sincere.

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was just saying sorry to appease me. Typical.

He seemed to realise my shift in mood and stood off the bed, our bodies close as he did so. He looked into my eyes with the same intense look he gave me earlier, but this time it was filled with something more- sincerity.

"I really am sorry," he repeated slowly. I shouldn't accept his apology. He was a person I knew was too chaotic to get entwined with and I knew I would only suffer if I got involved with him. I should have kicked him out of my bedroom and house just then.

But some nagging feeling inside me pushed that thought away, arguing that he probably needed it just as much as I did.

I needed a change in this life and that selfish part of me made me let out a conceding sigh.

"No, you're not," I said flatly, stepping away with him with a tired look, eyeing my pyjamas hung on my desk chair. What I would do to be fully showered and wearing them as I watched my shows; what I would do to step back into my own world where it was only me and no others that could disrupt the peaceful balance.

I side-eyed Aaron to see the dim look in his eyes, one which seemed so uncharacteristic.

"No, I really am. I'm just... pushing it off," he murmured, jaw clenching as he eyed the floor. I immediately knew he was talking about his reasoning. I nodded with a sigh, glad to know there was a semblance of hope to get back on track before shrugging.

"Well, my promise did extend to hearing you out, so I'm all ears," I verbalised to which the dull look in Aaron's eyes dissipated, leaving the carefree boy in its place. He smiled in return before returning to his position on the bed and putting his hands behind his head.

"This way I can't text, right?" he said with a smirk.

I smiled in response, but it was more a reflex than anything else. He was just so... himself. He didn't have to think of what to say or do next, it was instinctive. There was none of the social anxiety or the paranoia that plagued my mind when I interacted with others. He was fully comfortable being himself and I envied that about him.

His life was clean-cut. He was clearly wealthy, given the various assortment of shoes and clothes he flaunted at school and he was most definitely inherently attractive.

Given that, why would he, of all people, need to get someone to be his fake girlfriend?

"Aaron?" I started nervously. As he looked at me, my own questions reeled in my head. A part of me felt so invasive to try prod in his personal matters, but I needed to know, seeing as how I was now basically a part of this.

"Yeah?" he replied, and I turned to look at him, my questioning gaze burning into his skull. His hands were still behind his head, but now his eyes were closed so he couldn't see my thoughtful expression.

A small smile graced his face. I couldn't help but smile back.

I wouldn't dare admit it to him, but he was very beautiful, in a gentle way.

"Are you ready to tell me?"

His body notably tensed, and the smile disappeared as he opened his eyes, his blue sapphire gaze looking up at me. My fear returned at this gaze. He looked angry. His eyes were narrowed, and his eyebrows were knitted. I was tempted to take a step back but held my position, instead taking a step forwards. But instead of lashing out at me, like I expected him to, he sighed, sitting up properly to face me. His face looked distant and almost pained.

"Wow, I guess I'm really gonna be pouring my heart out to a girl I met an hour ago," he joked dryly, his voice devoid of any humour and I let out a small laugh.

I felt the feeling again. The people-pleaser one where I wanted to make him happy, and I scolded myself for thinking like that. Nevertheless, I still ignored all logical thoughts and went with my heart. I sat on the bed beside him, smiling, encouraging him to continue. He smiled slightly at me before speaking.

"It's my mom. I- she- something happened." He was now staring at the walls, deep in thought. His face was emotionless and I listened tepidly, having no experience in how to comfort anyone.

"Last week, we got into a really heated argument. Me and my friends, we'd gotten into a fight with some older men over something really stupid and my Mum was really angry about it. She was right to be, but I don't know, I wasn't in the right state of mind." He spoke quietly and I listened intently.

"We got into a heated back-and-forth. I said some things I really shouldn't have and then she told me that..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the wall.

I stayed silent, not knowing exactly how to comfort or encourage him to continue. It was another moment before he spoke again, his tone strained.

"She told me has stage 4 cancer. She didn't mean to tell me; it just slipped out and so there it was. She told me everything then: how she had worsened since her diagnosis a year ago and how she was sorry for not telling me sooner. She was apologising to me for being sick. Can you imagine that?" He let out with a dry chuckle, shaking his head. My hands tightened by my side at his sombre words.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron," I offered my pathetic attempt at consolation and he only smiled sadly,

"There shouldn't be anyone apologising, but me. Don't you see- it's my fault," he edged out, finally looking to me and I shook my head.

"That's not true." I refuted, but my protest fell on dead ears.

"Yes, it is. How had I not noticed the longer phone calls or her insistence for regular hugs? I hadn't noticed what she was going through and she didn't think of me as a person she could confide in. I failed her as a son," his voice was bitter and I sucked in a breath at the heavy topic.

I would have tried to say something as consolation, but I could tell- from the distant look in his eyes that he wouldn't listen to what I have to say. He was too engrossed in the memory, venting without thought, so I stayed silent as he sighed, his eyes dipping to look at the tattered rug.

"She told me she was worried for my plight if anything happened to her. I already knew I wasn't someone she thought responsible enough to tell her illness too. I was a delinquent at school, I got bad grades and she knew I fooled around with girls like it was a sport. At that moment, I realised that I wouldn't be able to give her any comfort, not the real me anyway, so I lied. I told her she shouldn't have to worry about me. I told her my grades were improving due to tuition, that I was seeing the school counsellor for my temper and.... and that I have a girlfriend. A sweet, studious girl from school who has been helping me at school," he stopped then and I processed his words, piecing together all of the story finally.

"That lie, in particular, made her happy in a way that none of my truths could. It made her happy enough for me not to regret it and the rest you already know," he finished, turning to me and I nodded in understanding.

"Oh..." was all I could say, and I chastised myself for giving such a pathetic answer. He must have really cared for his mother to disclose such a heavy thing to someone he had just spoken with a mere hour ago.

He turned towards me, the look on his face making my breath hitch. His eyes were intense and full of emotion. I could see the emotions swirling in his dark blue pupils-everything he wasn't telling me was on show, right in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak but, instead, he closed it. He then turned back to the wall. His jaw clenched as he spoke.

"Do you know how much my lie kills me?" He looked at me, almost as if he was begging me to speak, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. I was speechless, and no matter how hard I tried to speak, I couldn't.

"I'm doing this for her. I'm not going to sit around and mope about what is to come. I'm going to make little changes so that, when the time does come, she'll have nothing but good memories." His tone wavered as he spoke, and my throat suddenly felt dry as everything was connecting together in my head.

That was why it was fake, because it was for his Mum. Still, I gathered all the courage I could muster and asked him the other thing that was pressing on my mind, careful not to ask any question that could potentially set him off.

"But why me?"

His face morphed into confusion.

"Why not? You're all the qualities my Mum could ask for-intelligent, easygoing, friendly." I nodded and he gestured over to me simply. "And really pretty."

I felt myself blush from his compliment before gaining my composure. It would do nothing but drown in the meaningless words of an empty-feeling man.

"We're keeping this lie up for your friends too, aren't we?

He chuckled dryly before replying. "I lied to them too; I guess that makes me a bad friend as well as a bad son."

I didn't even know how to comfort him as I clenched my hands awkwardly.

"Wouldn't your friends understand that you just want to make your Mum happy? Surely, Danny or Justin would. I mean, are you guys not close or something?" I asked and I bit on my lip in the small silence that followed, afraid that I had offended him.

Aaron didn't seem to mind, however, and he shook his head.

"We're close, but they're not exactly on good terms with mothers, so they wouldn't see my need the same way I would," he said with an unamused chuckle, and I raised my eyebrow quizzically.

"Meaning?"

"Justin's Mum died when he was born, and Danny does not get on with either of his parents. I don't think they'd understand me," he said briefly, a sad look in his eyes.

I spoke instinctively before I could control it. "You know, if it makes you feel any better, I admire the reason you did it. It's not hard to tell that you love your mom."

He didn't say anything to this and so, I continued.

"And I know it might not mean much, but I'm sorry about your Mum, Aaron. I understand how she must feel," I explained, but my words were restricted and teetering on the edge of a wall I had put up long back.

Never let others get too close to your inner self.

Information gives power.

"Thanks, Alexis," he said quietly, but he said nothing else.

"You're welcome," I whispered just as gently; a small smile playing on my lips. The silence was disrupted by a beep from my phone, and I looked to see a message from my Mum.

Mom: On my way with food! Set the table.

I smiled at the text before turning to tell Aaron, but he had seemingly already noticed, and I watched as he stood, making his way to my door.

He turned to me just before walking out.

"Will you do it?" he asked, his gaze searching my own and I bit my lip in contemplation.

"Give me until tomorrow afternoon," I urged, thinking back to how Aaron had told me his Mum wanted to meet his girlfriend tomorrow evening, which was why he had been in such a rush to find someone.

He nodded at this, not giving away any hint of what he was feeling before holding his phone up slightly.

"I'll wait for your text," he said, his ocean eyes searing right through me. I nodded numbly as he exited without so much as a backwards glance. He had given me his number during this meet up and I had reluctantly taken it, not wanting him to know that it was the first number I had, outside my family.

I collapsed on my bed, staring up at my ceiling, conflicted thoughts swirling.

I felt bad for Aaron, and I couldn't pretend the last few hours hadn't shifted my perception of him slightly. But could I follow through with his lie?

Could I cozy up to him and act like I was suddenly in love with the school's golden boy?

Could I really be Aaron Walker's fake girlfriend?

Or would it all end in disaster?