The Pretend Girlfriend

Chapter Twenty Three~ Problem

"Come on. Please just answer!" Gwen said.

She could hear Aiden pacing in the living room. He hadn't taken off his shoes, and they made a distinctive sharp sound as the soles contacted the floorboards. After seeing his place, she didn't feel so embarrassed about having him over here. Sure, his condo was bigger, with nicer everything, but it hadn't been as opulent as she'd expected. Humble seemed a better word. She'd told him she needed time. Time to think this over. He'd given her one of the tickets to London, which now sat on her desk next to her laptop, tempting her.

Part of Gwen badly wanted to say yes, to throw some clothes into the cracked old suitcase at the back of her closet and then proceed directly to the airport. Getting away would be so nice. But the problem with running from your problems is that they always manage to catch up to you somehow.

Like with school. Sure, Gwen could blow off the essay (which was going to be late now anyway) and skip the midterm. But doing so would completely destroy this semester, and then she wouldn't graduate on time because she'd need to take the courses over... But London! Gwen thought, looking at that poster of Big Ben. If only Beatrice would answer her phone. They could talk things through, and B could play the roles of the little devil and angel on her shoulders trying to sway her decision. Aiden knocked on the door, but didn't open it.

"Yes?" Gwen said, cringing.

"Have you decided? We need to get going if we want to clear security in time to board," he replied.

"Just another minute, okay?"

Why couldn't he ask me to do this over summer or something? Gwen thought. The more cynical side of her replied: Maybe he's planning to end the contract before then. Gwen tried not to give that thought much credence. Their relationship went beyond the contract now. At least, she thought it did. Why would he kiss her like he had back at his apartment, why would he share those clues about his past, if this was still strictly just a business relationship? And this looked like the perfect opportunity to explore just how far they could go. If only it wasn't for the timing! Gwen sat on the foot of her bed and looked again at the poster, fantasizing even as she hit the call button to try B again. They could go to all the museums, to the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace. They could eat fries (what did the Brits call those again? Gwen couldn't remember) and fish out of those cute newspaper wrappers... So many possibilities. It could be wonderful.
On the other side of the door, Aiden's cell rang. He answered it, his voice growing muffled as he paced back into the living room.

"This is B; you know what to do." It was Beatrice's voicemail. The tone sounded to leave a message, but Gwen hung up instead. She'd already left like a thousand voicemails. In fact, she was a little surprised that the service still accepted more. Hadn't she filled it yet? It was no use, Gwen knew. She dropped the phone on her comforter, then let her body fall back against the mattress. The springs whined as she stared up at the ceiling. I'm going to have to decide all on my own, she thought. And that was the problem. Gwen couldn't trust herself. Not when it came to Aiden, at least. I must be really falling for him, she realized. Apparently all it took was a handsome face and a cold attitude. Okay, calm down, she told herself. You can do this. You can make the right choice. Wasn't that what being an adult was all about: making choices for yourself? She could see the temptation to not become a grown up, then. It was definitely ironic; she'd spent most of her childhood and youth wanting nothing less than to be her own woman, and now that she was, she just wanted someone else to tell her what to do. And right at that moment, the only other person around she could consult was Aiden. He would definitely tell her to go with him. That was obvious enough. That just meant she couldn't trust his judgment, either.

Gwen glanced at the clock, keenly aware of the little bit of breathing room she possessed closing in around her. Grabbing up the phone, she started once more finding B in the contacts list. It was no good, she knew. It would only be her friend's voicemail again. Yet the urge, the small, guttering hope, persisted to try and call. Wasn't that the definition of being crazy? Gwen wondered. Yeah, it was something about doing the same thing over and over again, expecting it to turn out differently. Looking at her desk, her laptop waiting patiently beside a pile of books, made her think about school again. She really didn't want to work on that paper, or study for the midterm. Just the mere ideas sent her stomach boiling with anxiety. Her eyes crept up to the poster again. In less than a day, I could be looking at the real thing! Yes, that sounded nice. Gwen was young; there was plenty of time to get back to school. It would just be one extra semester, after all. Her heart fluttered, and her skin broke out in gooseflesh as she arrived at her decision. The anxiety turned to excitement, and that was how she knew that it was the right choice. I'm really doing this! I'm really going to England! Gwen thought. Now, to tell Aiden the good news, she thought.