Faking It

12:Faking It:12

Chapter 12

 

Aiden

The two of us stand awkwardly, staring straight ahead, for minutes on end. Finally, I say, “Well…we’re going to have to shower.”

She sends me a slight glare and grabs her phone quickly. “Just. Get. In. It’s. Not. Like. River. Will. Know.”

Someone clears their throat outside. “Ahem. I beg to differ,” River loudly informs us. “In case you forget, Lina, it was you who persuaded mom to force me into taking this crap theater course, so I’m going to use any chance I get to make you suffer. Just…you better shower with your clothes on!”

“Fuck you,” I mumble. This is my favorite shirt, there’s no way I’m letting this thing get ruined.

“I don’t swing that way, bro!” River calls, and I can practically see the smirk on his face as he struts around the door.

Alina gives me a death glare and urges me to just get in the shower, and I suppose it would be alright, because there’s no way River would know that my hip detached from Alina’s.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” River mutters when we’re out of the bathroom, back to being jointed at the hip. Alina sends me a small, secretive, sly, smile, and I can’t help but to hold in laughter.

Poor guy.

“Yep,” I tell him, anyway, popping the sound of the word.

As soon as River leaves, I can’t help but to burst out laughing, even more so when I see the utterly disappointed look that Alina is giving me. She then eyes me warily as I begin to re-tape the two of us back together.

It really is very hard to walk together, keeping joint at the hip, without anything to help.

I have a fairly good guess that Alina just doesn’t like sticking duct tape on her clothes-which would totally explain why she’s refusing to wear anything remotely decent looking for the rest of the week.

“Oi,” I suddenly say, when we reach school. I abruptly stop in my track, causing her to spring back, towards me. “What do we do, today? We’re not in every class together.”

She frowns slightly and whips out her phones. “Today. I. Will. Go. With. You. Wherever. You. Need. To. Go. Tomorrow. You. Go. With. Me. And. We. Repeat. For. Thursday. And. Friday.” When I only give her a mere nod of response, she huffs, folds her arms, and types on her phone rapidly. Seconds later, her bracelet says, “Well? I. Think. I. Deserve. Some. Ducking. Applause. For. That. Ingenious. Idea.”

I lift an eyebrow.

“Motherduck. I. Hate. This. Thing.”

I open my mouth, but she shoots me a glare and slaps her hand to my mouth, to assure that I don’t say anything.

 ---

“Yo,” I muttered to Jeremy at lunch, who glanced up at me. “When is The Bitch coming back?”

As if this were some movie; some made up story, Jeremy opens his mouth to answer me, and the doors of the caf burst open, and lo and behold-there stands Molly Way, aka The Bitch, withholding a pose with her hands on her hips, one leg bent forward, and her hair dramatically blowing back, like in the movies, as if there were really a fan right in front of her bitchy ass face.

“You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.”

We all take a moment to glance over at Alina, and no, not just our table-I mean, practically everyone in the caf, since Molly Way bursting through the doors caused this utter silence.