Falling For My Fake Valentine

Chapter Two

Looking cute was not something I excelled at. Even with Kady’s advice and assistance, I always seemed to lack something. Maybe it was because I hadn’t mastered hip sashaying, hair flicking flirtation. Maybe it was because my body type was closer to Weight Watchers model than catwalk model, but I always felt... frumpy.

“You look hot!” Kady insisted, applying a thick layer of clear gloss to her pouting lips. She was watching herself in the mirror and I had doubts that she even knew what I was wearing. “What’s up with you anyway? You’ve been super moody all day.”

I grimaced, turning my back. I hadn’t told my best friend about the note – preferring instead to keep it tucked safely inside my chemistry textbook. I’d circled through every option this afternoon, from confronting Brandon to telling Kady to outright ignoring it altogether. I’d decided, somewhere between losing my mind and trailing my hair out, to play it cool. I’d always been pretty good at weighing up all sides of the argument before making a decision.

“Nothing,” I said, hating that I was lying to Kady. I never lied to her – not since I ate her last packet of M&Ms eight years ago, and pretended I had no idea where they’d gone.

Her reflection watched me. I could feel her gaze, penetrating against the back of my skull. “Have you been fighting with Brandon?” she asked.

“No. I haven’t spoken to him actually.” This was true. Not so much as a text message had been forthcoming. Brandon, as was usually the case, was preoccupied with his friends. I had a habit of checking my phone, longing for a heart emoji, or a brief ‘thinking of you’ message. Sometimes I would leave my phone in my bedroom, head downstairs to make sandwiches or tea, hoping that by the time I returned to my bedside cabinet, he would have somehow – psychically – felt the urgency with which I needed to hear something from him. It was pathetic.

“Well, you’ll see him tonight,” said Kady. She tousled her blonde curls, assessing herself in my antique-style, oval French mirror. She looked great – and knew it. “I’m ready.”

“Me too,” I replied, giving my reflection a brief once over. I wore a black denim skirt, with thick, opaque black leggings underneath, a flowery blouse and black velvet-finish wedge ankle boots that added four inches to my diminutive height. Kady had backcombed my hair into submission, which added another inch. In the mirror, if I narrowed my eyes to slits, I was passable. Not Kaycee Preston, but then who was?

“You look hot,” Kady repeated, but this time she was properly looking at me. “You’ve got all the curves.” She glanced down at her own body – tall and slim.

“That just means fat,” I said.

“That’s not very body positive of you,” Kady reached into her purse, removed a bottle of perfume and sprayed a liberal amount of the scented mist over herself.

Admittedly, I had quite a negative view of myself. Thighs too fat, tummy too wobbly, hair not quite thick enough, a dimple in my cheek that everyone said was cute. Not cute in the way people said when they really meant sexy. Cute as in childlike, innocent. I was the cute-but-unremarkable girl who is good at writing assignments and solving math problems. Having more body confidence was a New Year’s resolution every year.

Kady pulled on my elbow, forcing me to refocus. She was looking at me with concern and I almost spilled my guts about Brandon and Kaycee there and then. My best friend had a way of looking at me that made it almost impossible to keep secrets. Honestly, it was embarrassment – utter humiliation – that stopped me from revealing all.

“You don’t seem in the partying mood,” Kady said, intuitive as always.

“I am!” I insisted, forcing a smile that hurt my face.

“I’ll drive. Maybe you should have a drink, relax a bit.”

I made a noise with my tongue. Kady knew I didn’t drink. Slugging beers, being silly and vomiting in laurel bushes were not my idea of fun. Besides a very brief, single mouthful of beer, I had never even tried it. I could still remember the bitter taste on my tongue. “No thanks,” I replied, making a face. “I’ll have a cola-induced sugar rush instead.”

Maybe I didn’t know how to have fun. Was Jax Lamont right? And why was I even thinking about him, of all people? As if bad-boy Jax was the world’s leading authority on fun! Leading authority on being a total loser, perhaps.

It was cold outside as Kady and I walked along the street to where she’d parked her car. My breath condensed into clouds of white vapour and overhead the sky above Sugar Grove was crystalline. Stars flickered, unusually bright because of the new moon. I peered up, picking out constellations in the darkness; Orion’s Belt, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia – all familiar, above our heads since time immemorial.

“Oh no,” Kady said.

“What?” I asked, lowering my gaze.

“You’re doing that thing.” She pressed the button on her key, eliciting a beep from the car.

“What ‘thing’?” I knew what she meant though. I was prone to zoning out.

“See, this is why people think you’re a chronic nerd, Abbie. I bet you were naming stars, just now.” She pointed her index finger at the pin-prickled sky.

I pulled the car door open, resting against it as we stood staring at each other over the roof. “It’s interesting,” I said meekly.

“It’s nerdy,” Kady corrected. “Get in.”

I wasn’t like normal girls. My friends watched make-up tutorial videos, perfecting their eye-shadow techniques like professional make-up artists. Some even had their own channels online, where they talked to cameras about the banalities of their lives. I couldn’t think of anything worse than wasting my free time learning how to apply mascara. The last thing I watched was a documentary about quantum entanglement – and it had been the most wonderful, fascinating sixty minutes of my week. Somehow I doubted Kady would appreciate it.

“I got a new lip-liner,” she said, as if reading my mind. I tried to look interested as she talked, quite in depth, about a Winter Berry lip pencil that was perfect for winter. I nodded at all the right times, feigning interest because that’s what friends did. It never failed to surprise me just how long Kady could make a monologue about make-up last. Her unsolicited review of Winter Berry was only coming to its conclusion when she parked her car at the end of Alex Withers’ street. By then, I was struggling to disguise my expression of boredom.

When we got out, it wasn’t difficult to guess which house belonged to Alex. Every light was burning and music thumped, filling the quiet cul-de-sac with noise. I glanced around the crescent moon street, wondering if his neighbours would call in a noise complaint to the local cops. My mom definitely would have – which was why I had never hosted more than a three-person slumber party at my house. Not that Judy Kilbride wasn’t full of fun, just within moderation. Everything in moderation, was my mother’s motto.

“Kady! Abbie! Up here!” A voice squealed from above. In unison, we looked up, catching sight of Jenny Grant hanging out of the upstairs window. “You guys! This party is awesome!” She thrashed her arms, making a wide-eyed face as though she’d never been allowed out of her house before. I glanced sideways at Kady, who was struggling not to laugh.

We approached the door, which was yanked open before either of us had a chance to knock. The music became louder, spilling out onto the street. The heavy base thumped in tandem with my heartbeat and the effect was quite intoxicating. I allowed myself to be pulled into the crowd, squeezing through the throng of bodies, searching for Brandon’s familiar face.

The house smelled of beer, salted snacks, perfume and cologne. I squeezed through, taking note of people drunkenly kissing. The students of Sugar Grove High were getting started early tonight, I thought. It was barely past nine o’clock. Somewhere close by, over the sound of the music, I heard retching. Pulling I face, I escaped into the relative quietness of the Withers’ dining room – where only a handful of people had congregated.

Kady’s eyes scanned the party, like a vulture seeking prey. “I wonder if Taylor is here tonight,” she wondered aloud, rubbing her glossy lips together. “I think I might persuade him to invite me to the Valentine’s Ball.”

“You don’t have anyone yet?” I asked, surprised.

“I mean, of course I do,” Kady retorted. “A back-up, though. If Taylor asks me, I’ll gently let Zach off the hook.” She sounded so emotionless about the whole thing, as though acquiring a date to the ball were a mere business transaction. As if Zac Ryan could be returned for a refund, no questions asked.

“He’s not something you bought,” I said, a little annoyed at her. Zac had been smitten with Kady for months – since the beginning of our senior year, in fact. He would be crushed if she ditched him at the last minute. The Valentine’s Ball was less than two weeks away.

Kady looked surprised. “I know!” she blurted, her pale cheeks burning hot. “I’m only joking, obviously.”

I knew she wasn’t. I loved my best friend more than anyone in the world – except my mother – but she was a ruthless social climber, and if people were commodities, Taylor was worth more than Zac. It was all about appearances. High school was like a intricate caste system, difficult to work out, ever changing and evolving. Today Kady was middle-of-the-road popular. Not a social outcast, but not yet top tier. Securing a date with Taylor would propel Kady all the way up that theoretical pyramid, to Kaycee Preston’s level. Dating Brandon had brought me two whole levels up. That’s just how it worked.

As if thinking about Kaycee too many times somehow summoned her, she appeared in the doorway of the dining room. I watched her closely, for she hadn’t yet noticed me. She was in a different league of attractiveness – an unobtainable beauty, in some ways. She looked Photoshopped – even in real life. She wore skinny blue jeans, an off-shoulder coral top, dangly gold earrings and high, strappy sandals. I was jealous of every inch of her.

She noticed me, and I might have imagined it – but I could have sworn she looked almost guilty. No, not guilty – just caught out. There was a big difference between being guilty and caught out. Her expression changed almost immediately, for in her mind, Kaycee had just dismissed me entirely. I was not even worthy of a second glance, a moment of consideration. I thought about the note in my locker, warning me of Brandon and Kaycee’s betrayal, and I felt something quite like loathing in that instant.

Kady reached for a handful of salted pretzels, oblivious to the almost imperceptible exchange that had taken place between me and Sugar Grove High’s most popular girl. “These are so good,” she mumbled through a mouthful. “Want some?”

I felt sick with nausea, my stomach in knots at the thought of Brandon making out with Kaycee. I had already decided it was true – because of course it was. Kaycee was... well, Kaycee – and Brandon wasn’t the type of guy to turn her down. “No thanks,” I said. “Listen, I need to speak to Brandon. If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.”

I set off in search. If I had been passive all day, I was full-fledged assertive, now. Pushing through the crowd, I recognised almost everyone. It seemed that the whole senior year of Sugar Grove High was in attendance. There were cheers from the back yard, raucous clapping and yelling. I craned my neck, glancing through the patio doors where a group of boys stood around a keg of beer. Groaning, I knew exactly where I could find Brandon.

I wrapped my arms around myself, partly against the cold, partly to comfort myself against what I knew was coming next. I spotted my boyfriend in the crowd, center of attention as always. His arms were in the air, one hand clutching an empty plastic cup. I suspected it had been full moments before, and that the rowdy cheers were because he’d drank it all in one frantic gulp. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, edging through the crowd.

Brandon lowered his arms, accepting back-claps from his posse of likeminded friends. Boys who were impressed by his so-called bravado. He noticed me after thirty seconds, smirking at me as though he expected me to be impressed, too. I didn’t react, glaring at him until his friends dispersed, moving off into the back yard.

“Hey babe,” he said, slipping his arm around my waist. He pulled me in and kissed me hard. His lips tasted of beer and I tightened my lips, pulling back. “Did you see that?”

“Did you kiss Kaycee Preston?” I asked with strength I didn’t even know I had. The crumbling wreckage of my self-respect had been partly restored.

Brandon lowered his arm, taking two steps back from me. “What?”

He didn’t need to say anything more. Not really. His voice seemed unsure, but not outraged. Not outraged in the way I’d be if someone falsely accused me of something. No, he seemed... worried. As if some life-changing secret had been revealed and he was desperately working out how to lie about it. He was stalling.

“Did you kiss Kaycee Preston?” I repeated, stronger still.

“Of course not,” he said. “Are you seriously accusing me right now?” His annoyance caused conversations to stop. Eyes were upon us as the drama began to unfold. I hated being in the limelight. I was the wallflower, the girl who stood at the perimeter of the room, silently watching other people’s drama, grateful that it wasn’t me.

“Someone put a note in my locker. I know about it.” I shivered, more nervous than cold. Over Brandon’s shoulder I caught sight of Kady, who had been lured out by the whispers that had begun filtering through the crowd.

“Know about it? About what? What did it say?” Brandon looked panicked.

“It said you kissed Kaycee,” I replied slowly, wondering why he was struggling with my revelation.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“Isn’t that enough?” I snapped. I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth chattering. Perhaps I imagined it, but he looked almost... relieved. “Just answer me, Brandon.”

“Oh, Abbie.” I froze at the sound of her voice, just over my shoulder. Kaycee sashayed past me, her heels clicking on the flagstones. She looked at me with abject pity, as though I were an injured bird and she wanted to put me out of my misery. “Of course he kissed me.” She stood next to Brandon, one hand on her hip. Despite the cold, she kept her tanned shoulders bare, her collarbones on display. “Did you think you’d be enough, seriously?”

I felt a sob catch in my throat, but I refused to react. She c****d her head, patronisingly. “I’m not talking to you, Kaycee.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, drawing my gaze away from her to focus on Brandon. “Although I think I’ve heard all I need to.” He looked resigned. Not upset, not guilty. Just eager to get the public confrontation over with.

I turned on my heel and did a walk of shame through the gathered crowd. Kady was aghast, her eyes wide as saucers. I shook my head, indicating I had no desire to talk. She had many questions, I could tell, and I was in no state to deliver answers.

Brushing past her, I returned to the house and made my way through the kitchen. My path was met with no obstacles as almost everyone was outside, bearing witness to the unravelling of my tragic love life. I needed somewhere to hide – somewhere to sit in quietness whilst I gathered my thoughts. Through my tears, I noticed a door at the back of the kitchen. Behind me, people were starting to filter back into the house. I turned the handle, opening the door to a utility closet, and stepped into the darkness.