Something Complicated

Chapter Seven: Fake it 'til you make it

Whoever said that it's best to wear tight mom jeans at a barbecue and beer party should die. I can't enjoy all the meaty goodness in front of me in fear of ruining my jean's zipper.

Well, I did this to myself so RIP Jen.

My legs also feel like they want to kill me. We've been standing, walking, and greeting people who know Stefan for an hour already.

The good thing, though, is my date-slash-fake-boyfriend has never left my side. He has introduced me to his friends, teammates and their girlfriends. When I want to get food from the kitchen, he'll go with me. When I want to get something to drink, he'll assist me. That's why we're the subject of teasing at the party.

I have only seen Aubrey at the party once, and yes, she's with her boyfriend. I have found out from listening to gossip lately that her new guy's a triathlete who joins competitions in and outside the country. And actually, he's really famous. I should google his name sometime.

But first, I must google "How to eat more barbecue even though your jeans want to burst?"

"Are you okay?" Stefan must have noticed me salivating. Barbecue's my weakness, okay?

"Yup, though the veins in my feet feel like they're about to blow up," I say, trying to refocus my attention to my hurting feet.

He looks around for a chair I can sit on but to no avail. This party is just a standing-only-no-sitting party. Whoever thought of this idea is savage.

"Good thing you're wearing that. Imagine if you're wearing heels?"

"I actually wanted to wear slippers, but decided against it."

"You can wear slippers, heck, be even barefoot and still look amazing," Stefan mutters nonchalantly, like it's normal to blurt that out in the middle of a party, while we're initially discussing my hurting feet. Did they really come out of Stefan Manzano's mouth? He's not yet drunk, right?

"Uh..."

"Let's cheer to that!" He clinks on my can of root beer before drinking. If I'm not mistaken, that's his first bottle so he's not yet drunk enough for him to say weird stuff.

"Hey there, Stan," Kirk, a friend of his, approaches us. He has no idea how thankful I am for saving me from the possible awkward conversation with Stefan. "Want another beer?"

"Nope. I'm okay."

"You sure?" Kirk still hands out the beer to him. He sounds surprised, like it's unusual for Stefan to drink just one bottle. Why? Is he even allowed to get drunk?

"No dude. It's okay," Stefan nods his head to me. "I have to take Jen home, so no."

"Okay lover boy," Kirk smiles and winks at me. "How about you Jen?" He notices that I'm only drinking root beer at a beer party. "Want a drink?"

I am about to say yes when Stefan cuts me. "No."

WHAT THE HELL?! Everyone's drinking beer at this party except for me. Randy even has to buy cans of root beer at the nearest convenience store just for me. It makes me feel like a spoiled high school student.

"She doesn't drink beer."

"No, it's okay. I can drink one."

"No," Stefan's voice is stern. "No, you can't and you won't. I don't want your parents to get mad at me."

OKAY FINE.

"Sorry, dude," Stefan turns his attention back to his friend, who's now laughing at our expense. I have no idea why he's finding this amusing.