“You’re right,” he said.
I opened my eyes lazily. “Huh?” was the only thing I could say.
“We don’t need to practice,” he said, sounding far too cheerful. “We’re adults. We’ve kissed before. Sorry about that. Don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll just go for it if the situation requires.”
I squinted at him, not really sure what was going on. My head felt fuzzy and I was pretty sure I was about to have at least one-fourth of an erection that I could not control.
“Besides…” He took a step back, eyes glittering. “I wouldn’t want to be late for our date. Why, that would just be rude.”
Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, lifted me up, moved me out of the way (like I weighed nothing to him and that was not attractive, no matter how much my skin tingled), and walked out the front door.
“Huh?” I said to the empty room.
Chapter 10: Return of the He-Bitch
PAUL HAD decided that we were to meet at Poco’s, a small café downtown near Jack It where he and Vince had their first date the year before. Even though the date had been something of a disaster (“Why the fuck is that goddamned hippo video still on YouTube, Sandy! I am going to fucking murder your fucking face!”), the sentimentalist in him just couldn’t resist.
Which is why I found myself going on a double date with Corey as a fifth wheel. I would have thought Corey might have felt more awkward about that, but from the grin on his face as we approached the outdoor patio, he was already having the time of his life.
I didn’t think that boded well for the rest of the night.
It started with Darren grabbing my hand as we walked down the sidewalk, interlacing our fingers. I didn’t know proper first-date etiquette as it’d been a while since I’d actually dated. Usually, I was perfectly fine with a fuck and run and didn’t feel the need to do anything further. I hadn’t even had a “boyfriend” since I was twenty-five, and even that had lasted only two months. Paul thought I was aromantic, but it basically boiled down to the fact that it was easier to not than it was easier to do.
That and the fact that I really didn’t like most people.
That was a big part of it.
So here I was, on a date (fake, but whatever), unsure of the proper course of action. He was holding my hand. What was the appropriate response? Could I shove him through the window of a storefront? Could I accidentally knock him into oncoming traffic? Or maybe I could wait until we sat down for dinner, order a steak (medium rare), make small talk until the food arrived, comment on how delicious it looked, then beat him upside the head with it, knocking him unconscious, and then stab him with the steak knife. I thought maybe that was a little extreme, but I didn’t know how the modern gay fake dated in 2015 with his archnemesis. I vowed to be better researched if I had to go through this again, though I highly doubted I would. This was Darren posturing a bit. I would allow it. For now.
Paul smiled as we approached, Vince looked excited, and Corey just grinned like he was about to receive the most wonderful of presents. I glanced over at Darren and was slightly startled to see the small smile on his face, one that I could have sworn was almost entirely genuine, like he was relaxed and happy. It carried none of the ego or disinterest his usual smiles did. It struck me dumb for a moment until I realized what he was doing: he was trying to beat me at my own game. He was trying to be the better fake boyfriend. He just oozed sincerity, and even though I could see right through, I could admit he was the Daniel Day-Lewis of fake dating. Even I wanted to give him an Oscar for that shit.
Which meant one thing and one thing only.
I had to be better than him.
That meant I had to pull out all the stops.
Because there was only one thing better than being the Daniel Day-Lewis of fake dating.
I had to be the Meryl Streep of fake dating.
(Which also meant I couldn’t beat him with my meat and then stab him.)
(I really shouldn’t have phrased it like that.)
(My bad.)
So I reached down within myself, found my inner Meryl Streep as we approached the patio of Paco’s, and smiled winningly and hoped it made me look more Mamma Mia! Meryl (warm and inviting) than Devil Wears Prada Meryl (kill you, bitch, right in your face).
(Secretly, I also hoped I could pull off Death Becomes Her Meryl, which is the greatest drag queen movie in history that never actually starred any drag queens.)
“Hello!” I trilled, walking through the gate, dragging Darren behind me. “Oh, it is so lovely to see all of you. Kisses, please.”
And I kissed Vince on the cheek and then Paul and finally Corey, never letting Darren go. He went along gamely, but now that I knew he was trying to out-act a drag queen, I was going to make him wish he’d never been born. He thought he could look happy and pull it off? Well I was going to look ecstatic, like I was motherfucking sunshine. I was going to be the happiest person in love who had ever existed.
“How wonderful,” I gushed, smiling at each of them in turn, so they could see how happy I was. “It’s a perfect fall evening, and we’re here wi
th friends and family.” I looked over at Darren and hoped it was coming off as two parts sweet and one part saucy with a dash of bring it, you bitch. “And of course, my bae.” I saw the slight grimace at the endearment and latched on to it immediately. “Isn’t that right, bae?”