some things stay hidden

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After making certain my necklace would remain tactfully hidden underneath my button up shirt, I shrug my blazer on for good measure.

"Still trying to hide how much you love that thing?"

I lean down to my vanity and retrieve my phone from where it was leaning on the corner of my mirror. My eyes roll back even more dramatically than usual so Beau can get the clear visual through the other side of the phone. He's been taunting me all morning from the second I woke up and called up. I guess he's trying to rack up 'asshole points' before we go back to school and act like we hate each other, now even more so because to everyone else, we're supposed exes. This is going to be fun.

Glancing in the mirror to ensure I didn't miss a discolored spot on my neck, I reply casually, "Not as much as I love your hands."

I look back to the screen, catching the smirk that appears on his lips. He's still boarded up in his room waiting until the last possible minute to start driving to school so he isn't forced to be in that hell hole a second more than he has to be. At this point, he's just killing time talking to me while I try to get out the door before Kat catches up to me. "Today is going to be extremely difficult if you're going to keep that up," he warns with a teasing note in his voice.

That sounds like a challenge. A very easy one at that. I know how much of an effect I have on him, it's not very difficult to get a reaction when I want one. "It's already going to be difficult. Seeing you and not being able to undress you as I see fit." My teeth sink into the corner of my bottom lip, reopening the nearly healed cut. The sting is more annoying than it is painful, I've been applying a numbing gel to it for the past 2 days just to be able to eat without it bothering me every time I chew.

"Since when are you so open about what you want from me?" he chuckles, his voice going quieter because of some noise outside of his door. I've kept a watchful eye on mine too just so no one in my house has the chance to sneak up on me. I'd hate for us to get caught over a phone call of all things, there's other much less anticlimactic ways for the truth to come out. Not to be confused with me wanting us to get caught, just if it happens let it be in a way that'll be remembered.

I grab my bag from the corner of my room to sling over my shoulder before getting my keys, extra concealer, AirPods, and a random stress ball holding it all in one hand. The stress ball helps me a lot when I'm about to perform for theatre and I have a strong feeling that we'd be doing improv today to 'kick us back into gear'. In the meantime, I keep my camera hovering over my face. "I learned from the best," I joke. "So, is it your house or mine later on?"

Two hours without talking to one another is more than enough. To go without talking for the majority of a school day is a cruel joke. If I'm going to force myself to do that, I should at least get a few hours with him as a reward. It's not our first time studying together after school, but it'll definitely be different just by the sheer fact that we don't hate each other anymore. Automatically assuming we'd be hanging out today was just a no-brainer after the last week we've had.

"Mine. Sophie's going over to Sean's so that leaves us with a few hours. Everyone else under this roof has a brain so they already know about us," he elaborates while somehow managing to make a snide jab at Sophie.

"Hey!" I scold, "Don't be a dick."

Swiping my thumb across the screen to reveal the time, I realize if I want to get out of here before Kat does, I have to go now with not much time left to spare. "I've got to go, I have my own sister to deal with," I groan. This conversation is as much as we're going to get all day if we want to convince everyone at our school that now we're enemies. Why the hell does the universe always seem to be against us? When we hated each other, we had to pretend we were practically in love with one another. It's now that we like each other that we have to act like we hate each other.

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