The Art of Pretending

Chapter Twenty Nine

Blair POV.
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   "I'm sorry."

Was I? Yes I was. Even though a part of me knew I wanted them to be over. I hoped every night that something would happen, and they be done. But I guess I wished he wasn't the one who would get heartbroken. I know it's mean, sad, but I wish she was the one hurting and not him.

   "Why do I feel like that's not true?" He gives me half a smile to show he was joking. "Even if it is, don't be. It's my fault anyways. Not yours."

   "How?"

   "We fought a lot. She was insecure and jealous, and I gave her a reason to be."

   "About what?" I ask.

   "About you." He looks at me and laughs sadly. "She always thought there was something going on between us. She was jealous of you. I always asked her why, she would say how your gorgeous, funny, everyone loved you. She would always compare herself to you."

   "But, she's all of those things. And she hated me."

   "She hated you because of me. And I'm sorry for that. She was just jealous of you."

   "But there was nothing going on between us?" I said confused.

   "Wasn't there? Come on Blair, we both knew there was something between us. Even as innocent as it was, I liked you."

"But you love her, doesn't she know that?"

"I've told her that, but it doesn't matter. I think it's over for sure."

   "I'm sorry."

   "Let's not talk about her." He gives me a sad smile. "Let's take a shot together." I nod and he pours us two shots. "To the fuck ups." He smiles and cheers, just like how we did the night of the bonfire. I smile at that memory.

   "To the fuck ups." I touch my shot to his, and drink it. The liquid burns my throat and I try not to make a face.

   We spend the next hour drinking and talking. Now, we were both having a perfect buzz. "You know," I start.

   "I don't."

   "Shut up. You know, we kissed and danced over there." I point to the dance floor. He knows where I'm pointing, but still looks over.

   "I know, it's hard to forget."

"And then we kissed up stairs."

"I do remember that, a very fond memory if I do say so myself."

"I miss that bed," I laugh. "I think it's one of the most comfortable beds I've been in. Yours at your house, is a close second."

"Wanna go up there?" He suggests.

   "Sure." Of course I said yes, I'm stupid. I'd probably do anything he asked me.

   We go up to the room. I lay on the bed the second we walk in. "I love this bed." I yawn. He gets on the bed and lays next to me.

   "For the memories or for the comfort?" He turns his body and looks at me.

   "Both."

   "Yea, me too. This is where we first actually talked."

   "We've talked many times before that night." I teased.

   "No," he explains. "We had our first long conversation here. After you tried to..." I cut him off by hitting him with a pillow.

  "We don't need to talk about that. But yes, that night was nice. Thank you for letting me talk to you that night. About my mom, and everything. But let's not talk about the stuff before that."

   "Then what do you want to talk about?" He smirks at me.

   "Let's talk about, ummm, what if's."

   "What if's?" He asks.

   "You know, like what if something never happened, or I don't know. Like, what if you loved me. What if Ashlyn wasn't in the picture."

   "Blair," he starts. I didn't mean it in a rude way. I genuinely wanted to know how he would see me.

   "No, no, it's ok. Let's just pretend." I give him a smile to reassure him.

   "We shouldn't Blair." He's right, it would only give me hope. And that always leads to disappointment.

   "Just for tonight, let's just pretend."

   "Pretend what?" He asked. All I wanted was him. I wanted his arms around me, I wanted him to love me, I wanted all of him. But I know I can't have what I want. But tonight, I just want to pretend that I can.

  "That I'm just a girl and you're just a boy. And there's no one else. No other person, not a party downstairs, just us. You told me if you didn't love her, you'd love me. Is that still true?"

   "Yes."

   "Then tonight let's pretend. There's no one else besides us."

   "Ok, let's pretend. Just for now." He gives me a sad smile. It's not like his usual ones. This one has the dimples like his normal smiles, but it sad. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the bed.

   "What are you doing?" I laugh.

   "I want to dance with you."

   "What?"

   "Let's dance." And we did. Even though the music was muffled, and the song wasn't even slow, we danced. Not in an appropriate way, but an innocent one. We were just a boy and a girl. Pretending to be in love.

   "I want you to kiss me," I told him. He looks at me, I see him debating in his head. Probably asking himself the same question I'm asking myself. Is this a good idea? Is this worth it? But then he stopped debating, and then he did.

    He kissed me. It wasn't the first time he's kissed me, but this is the first time he's kissed me this way. He kissed me like the world was ending and the only way to survive were my lips against his. Like he needed me as much as I needed him. He kissed me as if he couldn't breath and my lips were his only source of oxygen. He kissed me. Like I was it for him. I was his choice. Like I was a girl loving a guy who no longer loved the girl across the room but me. Because at this moment, the other girl didn't exist.

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