Paper Hearts

08

The confusion that flashed in his gaze was answer enough.

No, Luke Callaway did not need a tutor. Yes, I was a complete i***t.

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"Sorry. That—that was uncalled for. Um..."

My voice trailed off, and I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I shook out my hands, clearing my throat.

"The thing is," I said, my breathing coming out in sharp, quick intervals, "My mom—I haven't seen her in a while, you know, and—well—"

Luke just stood there as I floundered for words, his brow arched questioningly, and I knew that I must have looked like a complete i***t.

"She's getting married," I finally managed to say, pinching my eyes shut tight. "She's getting married, and I—I might have accidentally told her—"

Stop talking, I ordered myself. Stop talking, turn around, and leave.

But I didn't. Somehow, some way, I managed to make an even bigger fool of myself than I already had.

"I accidentally told her that I have a boyfriend," I said then, the words sudden, rapid fire. And the second they were out, more came tumbling after; it was like I couldn't stop myself. "And I don't, and now I need a date for her wedding, and it's only four weeks away, and—"

"Victoria."

I brought my eyes up to his, my hands shaking by my sides, my breathing coming out in shallow gulps.

He just looked at me—not angry, not confused. Just looking.

Which was even worse.

"Well, if you're going to say something, you might as well say it now," I muttered, my cheeks now radiating heat.

And he did.

"What does that have anything to do with needing a tutor?"

Boys.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, feeling worse than ever.

"No," I said, my voice coming out exasperated and flat. "No, I'm sorry, I—I should—"

Shaking my head and blinking back sudden tears, I turned towards the exit, desperate to leave, my fingers reaching towards the door when his voice interrupted the still air between us.

"Wait," he said, his tone soft, and I silently cursed myself for allowing this much time to pass. "Stay."

"No," I found myself saying, then, without looking at him. "No, I barely know you; it doesn't matter, and I—"

"Victoria." He said again, and I wanted to scream at him, to throw something, but I couldn't. So I just stood there, facing the door, standing stock-still.

"What?" I said finally, my voice sharp and on-edge.

"Please tell me what's going on."

Slowly, I turned on my heel, forcing back the tears and taking a deep breath through my nose, gathering the courage to look him in the eyes—steel-blue meeting brown and holding each other there.

"I need a date," I said, slowly, "And—and I was going to ask you, but—"

"But what?" he asked, moving out from behind the counter once more and standing before me. I averted my gaze, feeling the shame flood back into me as he tried to meet my eye.

"But nothing." I replied. "Just—forget about it. Forget it ever happened."

"No." he said. "No, I'm not going to. Turn around."

And I did, my cheeks aflame and my heart leaping into my throat. I turned around, staring him straight in the eye.

"What's going on?" He asked, and I forced myself to speak, casting my gaze sideways and keeping it there.

"My mom," I said, hating myself for the thickness in my voice, "She—she kind of—bailed on me. A long time ago."

When I said this, I saw him shift in the corner of my eye, and I swallowed hard.

"And—uh, just recently—she called me. To—to tell me that she was getting married. To...to the guy she cheated on my dad with."

I was beginning to sound more and more like a basket case—but he wanted to know what was happening, so I was telling him.

"Anyways," I said, with an awkward clear of my throat, "The wedding's in four weeks. And—when I told her that Tanner and I had broken up, she—kind of went—berserk."

I paused, halfway expecting him to speak. When he didn't, I kept going, feeling my heart rate go up in my chest and wishing I was anywhere but there.

"She started yelling, and telling me how unacceptable it is, that I'm seventeen and single, and how I'm ruining her wedding and ruining her life—"

And suddenly I was crying. The tears began to slip down my face, one after the other, and I put my hands to my eyes to shield them. I shook my head, unable to believe myself, to believe this situation.

"I have to go." I said then, inhaling deeply, but he moved towards me, taking my hands in his and bringing his fingertips to my chin, tipping it upwards so that I was forced to look at him.

"Victoria," he said, and the use of my name made me want to cry even more. "I'll do it."

"You'll do what?" I asked, turning my face so that I didn't have to look at him.

"I'll be your date, Hemmings," he said, through a laugh.

I let go of his hands, crossing the café and sitting down.

"It's not that simple."

"How hard can it be?" Luke protested, still smiling as he followed my steps and sat down beside me. "I mean, we go to the wedding, your mom sees us together, and then it's over."

"The wedding's in Florida." I said, the mental list of problems already beginning to formulate in my head.

"I can make the drive. If it's in four weeks, it's right on our fall break."

I furrowed my brow, glancing up at him, the tears still damp on my cheeks.

"You can't just be my date," I said. "You have to be my boyfriend. My fake boyfriend."

"What's the difference?" he said, arching a brow. "Date, boyfriend—same thing."

"Not exactly," I said, blowing out my cheeks. "She thinks we—I mean, whoever the guy might be—have been together for a long time."

"How long?" he asked, and I touched a hand to my forehead, releasing a breath.

"I—I don't know," I muttered. "A long time."

There was a pause. A long one.

"I probably sound like an idiot." I said, my voice flat and teary. "I mean, who—who lies to their mother about their love life? Who does that?"

"No," Luke said, and the sympathy in his voice was unbearable. "No, you're not an i***t. You were under pressure—you didn't want to disappoint her. I get it."

No, you don't.

"Yeah, well, you don't have to get it. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," he said, and I shook my head.

"No, it doesn't. I hardly know you; it would be impossible, and if she ever found out the truth—"

"If it's not me, who else will do it?" he asked, and I brought my eyes to his, floundering for words.

"No one," he finished for me, and I knew it.

"How are you possibly so okay with this?" I asked then, sidestepping the question. "This is crazy, this is insane—"

"This is life, Victoria," he said. "And I'm willing to help you out. As a friend."

"As a friend...pretending to be my boyfriend."

He smiled then, and I felt my heart pound faster in my chest.

"Yeah." He said, waving off my words as if this wasn't a big deal. "I'll just spend fall break with you, your family, and then—"

"And then you'll break up with me?" I asked, and I couldn't help but laugh; this entire thing was so unbelievably ridiculous.

"And then I'll break up with you," he said, smiling again. "Don't worry, Hemmings. We can make this work."

"Are you sure?" I asked, still unable to believe this—everything that was happening.

"I'm positive." He said, leaning in a bit over the table, brows furrowed in thought. "Although, I do need one thing in return."

"And what's that?" I asked, and he smiled, sucking in one cheek.

"Will you be my date tonight?"