The Fake Girlfriend Effect

Chapter One.

♡ Katie ♡
. . .

I wake up to the sound of barking. Loud, whiney barks and rounded, freshly painted but still SHARP claws, pawing at my escaped from underneath the cover foot.

"Mm, just kidnap me already" I grumble, nuzzling further into the silky warmth of my pillow.

More whines, loud, strained, desperate whines.

And then I realize, shit, I have a dog!

"Oh fuck, Meatball!" I go to jump up but get tangled in some part of the floral pink cover, so then I trip, hitting my soft carpeted floor and wincing.

"Shit" I groan.

Meatball continues to whine, running his tongue over his lips before sitting with his tail at his side.

I lift myself up with a small grunt, obviously in pain from hitting the floor and obviously missing my bed as soon as I walk out of my room.

I go downstairs, trying to walk as fast as Meatball's big, Saint Bernard ass is trotting, but he still ends up beating me downstairs and looking at me from the front door while whimpering.

"Sorry buddy" I sigh as I open the door- like he can talk to me or something, Meatball darts out before the door's even FULLY opened, leaving me to rub my eyes and blink rapidly to adjust them to the light.

I wonder why my parents didn't take him out...

That's when I hear music that's not loud, but also not low; old people music at that.

Oh shit. The barbecue. Fuck I hate the barbecue, too many social interactions and shit like that.

Too many gushing family friends and family members all in the same place.

And Bella with Ellie..

This day is my least favorite day of the year (other than valentines day because I stay single and salty).

Meatball darts back inside- because let's face it, my dog's as introverted as his owner, as soon as he's done with his business.

Meatball's tongue, big, pink, and dripping with slobber as he pants, hangs out his mouth as I close the door.

"Damn the beginning of the summer" I sigh, looking down to meet his big brown dog eyes, "it's the beginning of the summer".

Meatball whimpers and his tongue actually goes back into his mouth. My best friend Noah likes to say I trained Meatball to answer me, I call bullshit, I say Meatball's my platonic soulmate in doggy form.

"Come on" I sigh, walking reluctantly towards the stairs of my town house, "let's go get dressed".

And by "lets", I mean me, because Meatball is big and scares half the people at the Reed residence- especially Bella, which is sad because like...

That's yet another reason we can't he together- other than the biggest issue at hand: SHE HAS A GIRLFRIEND.

Dramatic, I know, and yes I'm trying to get over this sixteen-year-old girl...

But no one said it'd be this hard.

Behind me Meatball's paws hit the stairs in a rhythmic pattern, we reach my highly pink (and yes like- pink wall, pink covers, pink mostly everything) room and while I go towards my closet- as slowly as possible, of course, he jumps onto my window seat and begins chewing on one of his burger shaped toys.

"Jeans?" I hold up a pair of jeans in front of Meatball's face, he whimpers, "right... too- hot".

During the barbecues my parents and their high school best friends the Reeds throw during the summer, we spend like all day outside in the Reed's backyard in the pool or if you're like me, around the pool because kids in pools make me sick (I'm still traumatized from one kid who PEED in the pool... that kid being Noah).