Adorkable(52)

The concern in his face undid me.

Pulling him a little ways down the hall, I took a deep breath, not knowing what I was going to say exactly, but before I could speak Becks asked the most ridiculous question.

“Was it something I did?” he asked. “Something I said?”

“What, no.” I was taken aback. “You didn’t do anything. It was just time.”

“Is it him? Did your guy finally wise up?”

“I’m not following.”

“Jeez, do I have to say it? Sal, are you dumping me for the competition or what?”

Ah, I thought with sudden clarity. My made-up crush.

I would’ve laugh at his sullen expression if I didn’t feel like a total jerk for putting it there. Well, that explained the bitterness—which was actually pretty ironic because the only competition Becks had was himself.

“Listen.” I took his face between my hands, much gentler than I’d seen Zuckerman do, and looked him in the eye. I owed him this much. “It’s not that at all. There’s no competition, Becks. I don’t even think I like him that much anymore.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire. My mind said it over and over, but since when was that news? These days it felt like I was born to lie.

“I’ve just been feeling so guilty lately,” I continued. “That’s really all it was.” For the most part.

“But Sal,” he said, using the same reasonable tone, “the deal was a month. You said so yourself, it’s not going to be as believable otherwise. Plus, do you really think people are going to buy it? That we broke up, just like that, for no good reason? Because I don’t. We’ve done our job too well. People love us together.”

As if to reinforce his words, the pretty brunette from Tuesday’s game sauntered up and handed Becks a pink envelope.

Smiling bright, she said to me, “No hard feelings, okay? Man, are you lucky.”

The smile I gave back must’ve really made an impression because the girl took a step back. Good, I thought. Like Hooker said, serves her right for first proposing to Becks then trying to flash him in the middle of a game. I mean, who does that?

“Yeah, I am.” I dropped my hands, but stayed close. I didn’t want to give her too much room. She might try and get her shirt over her head, hoping Becks’ll dump me for nice teeth and an overly perky bust line. Yeah, not today, sweetheart. “And I’m not a man.”

“Oh, I know that,” she laughed nervously. “I just wanted to make sure you guys had your invite. The party’s next Saturday at my house, to celebrate after the first round. Later, Bally. Hope you guys can make it.”

With that, she turned on her heels and scurried away. It was a nice touch, adding our couple name, but there was no mistaking who the invitation and the flirtatious glance she threw over her shoulder were for.

“You’re really good at that.”

Startled, I looked back at Becks. “Good at what?”

“Playing the jealous girlfriend,” he said, eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were really jealous.”

I forced a smile. “Well, technically, you are still my boyfriend as far as she knows.”

He studied my face, and I was afraid I might’ve given myself away.

I tried not to fidget.

Finally, Becks ran a hand through his hair and said, “Sal, this isn’t going to work.”

“What’s not?” I asked.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just keep it going. That would only be a couple more weeks, not even. If Mercedes is asking us to come to one of her parties, it’s—”

“Wait,” I said, “her name is Mercedes? Like the car?”

Becks nodded. “Yeah, she’s a senior, too, just transferred this year. She’s promised to throw a party for every win we get in sectionals.”

“How generous.” It bothered me how much Becks knew about her.

The warning bell sounded.

“Listen, Sal,” Becks said. “We’ve got to do it big and public. That’s the only way anyone will believe our break-up. Let’s just keep it going until Mercedes’s party.”

“But—”

He touched my hand, and I watched him shake his head. “It’ll be the perfect place. Trust me. Plus, this’ll give us more time to ease people into it.”

“But what if you want to—”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay?” He dipped his head to look me in the eye. “No more break-up texts, alright?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. Guess Becks didn’t like getting dumped by phone, even by fake girlfriends. “Alright, but we will talk. Like I said, Becks, I don’t want to hold you back.”