Jo
IF MY VISION blurs one more time, I'm positive I'll fall asleep on the counter. Mum stalks into the kitchen with a brownish red robe around her body and her bird's nest hair has a peculiar similarity with mine.
Swollen lids, dark eye bags and an eyecrust she's currently pushing out of her eye with her finger, she's an apt illustration of an overworked woman who just had a very unsatisfying nap. "Having a hard time reading?"
I sigh over my cup of coffee and turn the novel I'm having a hard time reading due to fatigue over the counter, so that the cover faces me. "I'm so tired." I admit and wrap my blanket tighter around my body. I'm very much aware that this is as a result of the dreaded hangover I woke up to, but revealing that to mum would be like walking into a fire. Especially since she warned me not to drink.
She raises a brow at me. It's arched way too high. "Did you drink last night?"
"No," I grumble and look down and then I decide it's best to blame it on my diabetes. "I had a low when I woke up."
She turns to the sink and takes out a mug from a cabinet before rinsing it and placing it under our old coffee maker. "That explains it."
"I thought you were going to toss it out," I tell her as I watch the coffee maker hiss and rumble before hesitantly spitting out a jet of coffee into her cup.
She hits the top of the machine, the sound ringing in my ears unpleasantly and shrugs before taking the cup to her mouth. "This is a vintage coffee maker. It's been with us for nine years. Feels like my kid." I roll my eyes when she's not looking.
"Besides, it'd be hard to get this model again. Might as well use it till it dies." She leans against the island and stares at my face. "Did you have a nice time yesterday?"
In reality, I'm not sure I did. From people witnessing me having a low blood sugar and Craig asking me to hang out with him, it might as well have been one of the worst nights of my life. But then again, I may or may not have had fun while playing beer pong and winning money for Khalid. So I shrug and bring my covers higher up my neck and say, "It was okay."
She nods to herself. "That's good enough." She turns around and opens the cabinets, in search for something to do. She starts to tell me about how movie night with her mother went and how she couldn't stop fawning over Tom Cruise.
I finish up my coffee and stretch my hands, groaning as I do so. My phone buzzes with a text and I pick it up and send a quick thank you message in response to the sophomore who sent me a tutoring request as early as five in the morning. I'd accepted it without hesitation. My sessions with Flynn will be over soon and the bookstore doesn't pay that much. I still need money. I half-heartedly listen to mum and chuckle at something she says while lazily scrolling through social media. Posts from last night's party fill up my feed.
I zoom on a picture Amanda posted when I'm certain I saw my face and I narrow my eyes at the expression I'm wearing. My mouth is half-opened and my eyes are narrowed at Khalid who's grinning at me. Amanda has her teeth on full display at the center of the picture and Cass has an arm around her. I suddenly decide that I hate my side view.
A text appears at the top of my screen and I tap on it once I see it's from Flynn. It's a simple, direct and straight to the point text.
Flynn: I need to see you.
Jo: There are no tutorials on Sundays. Go back and read my profile.
His reply comes in seconds later and it has a rolling eyes emoji attached to it.
Flynn: It's not about tutorials.
Jo: Then what is it about?
Flynn: You'll know when I see you.
I purse my lips and my thumbs hover above the screen before I type again. I'm afraid that won't be necessary.
Flynn: I'll come over then. I hope your mum is home. I'd like to say hi.
I'm too tired to swear at him. My head is pounding from the hangover and I'm fatigued all over.
Jo: Don't you dare.
I look back at mum who tells me that she had to wake up early to take grandma to church and now she regrets it because she wasn't able to get back to sleep after that.
Flynn: I will. I've got my car keys with me already.
I sigh and take off the blanket from around my shoulders.
Jo: It's too early for this.
Flynn: It's 12:37.
Jo: I'm coming to meet you. You'd better be holding a cup of coffee by the time I get there.
Mum takes out a sheet of paper from a jar and writes on it. "I wanted to make you a smoothie but we're out of strawberries. I'm going to have to pick up the groceries after work."
I perk up on my seat. "I'll do it."
She glances at me with surprise. "You'll go grocery shopping?"
"Yeah," I shrug and clear my throat. "I'm going for a jog. Might as well pick them up on the way back."
"Huh," she hums thoughtfully. I'm not a fan of grocery shopping or doing anything that involves me going out on a Sunday so her reaction is understandable. "It's a pretty long list."
"I can handle it. Besides, you need to get some sleep."
"Well, that's a relief," she beams and yawns loudly, like she's been fighting it. "I'll just get you my credit card then."
I nod and stroll upstairs to my room. I shoot Flynn a quick text, informing him to meet me at the central grocery store and I change out of my skimpy clothes. I decide not to put on a bra because I'm too tired and because I don't need to and then I throw in an oversized, purple hoodie and a pair of biker shorts. My hair's a mess but I'm too tired to do anything about it, so I try to even out some curls before bundling it into a bun. The stray curls escape once I bend over to tie my shoelaces and I ignore them before heading down the stairs. Whatever he needs to see me for, better be good.
â
THE CENTRAL SUPERMARKET doesn't have the usual crowd hovering around it today because it's a Sunday. I spot the devil leaning against his sleek, distinct car in the parking lot and I reluctantly trudge over to him. He's dressed in black sweats, the crocs he wore at the store the other day and his bed head somehow manages to look good. He's flipping his car keys in one hand and texting with the other and then, he grins ever so slightly at the screen. I don't allow myself to wonder who he's texting.
As soon as I stand at an arm's length away from him, he looks up at me and slides his phone into his pocket. "You look rough."
"Gee, thanks."
He turns away from me and lifts the cup of coffee that I hadn't noticed was sitting on the roof of his car the whole time and then he turns back and hands it to me.
I take it from his hand and ignore the very brief tingle that shoots up my palm when my fingers graze his. The weather's a bit chilly anyway. I slap the grocery list on his chest and narrow my eyes at him. "Grab a cart." And then I turn around and start walking ahead.
He follows behind me as I walk into the store and sip gratefully from the straw in the cup. It's my favorite. Decaf with lots of cream and ice. The Central is even colder than the outside and I flip up my hoodie, so it covers my head. I regret wearing these shorts.
There are just a few customers in here so I shouldn't get claustrophobic when trying to wedge my way between people. Behind me, Flynn, my slave, dutifully grabs a grocery cart and wheels it forward until we're walking side by side.
"So," I sip slowly and watch him intently going through the list like it's a form of examination. "You've seen me. What's up?"
Flynn gestures to the row of foods in the aisle we're currently in and waves the list in my face. "What's lauvufatsutter?" He says the word slowly with a genuinely confused look on his face.
I lean closer to him and take a look at what he's talking about. Mum's handwriting turns into a chicken scrawl whenever she's rushing off to work. I'm sure that's when she put this on the list.
"Low fat butter." I correct and grab one from the stack of jars on the shelf before tossing it into the cart. Our arms brush and even though they're both clothed, I hurriedly lean away and move forward.
Flynn wheels the cart forward and catches up to my stride again. He's chewing hard on his lip as he ticks each item off the list while I leisurely walk next to him and sip coffee that I hope will never empty.
"So you know how we weren't able to go to the haunted house yesterday?"
"Yeah. I ruined your date."
"It wasn't a date." He grumbles. "Anyway, Semia may or may not have been pissed off that we ditched her and read it the wrong way."
I turn to him and take my mouth off the straw. "You didn't tell her I had an episode, did you?"
He shakes his head and drops a tray of strawberries into the cart. "Of course not. I just told her something happened and we had to leave."
I hum and suck from my straw again. "Alright."
"She didn't believe me though."
"You can just try this again next time," I tell him and return the milk he just grabbed before replacing it with skimmed milk. "But this time, instead of covering up with the whole haunted house stuff, just walk up to her and say, 'Hey Semia. I like you. Would you let me buy you coffee?' And then, it's a date."
Flynn chuckles like I've said something funny. That low, silent laughter that does something to my chest. "You watch too many 90's romcoms."
"Hey," I yank the very expensive jar of cream from his hand and take a more affordable one. "If you keep going like that, you'll blow up my mum's credit card." It's an exaggeration, but it feels good to snap at him.
He frowns at me. "I've never been grocery shopping before."
"Ha, who would have thought? You already seem like a pro."
He rolls his eyes and goes on. "Like I said, Semia thought I was lying."
"Why would she think you were lying?" I ask distractedly as I admire the brightly patterned pants a lady six feet apart from us is wearing.
"Because she thinks we're dating."
"Who's we?"
He wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me back. A little squeak forces its way out of my throat once I'm close enough that my chest grazes his. His stupid cologne is wafting into my nose and confusing me. I take a step back and watch him clear his throat before deciding to speak again.
"She thinks we ditched her on purpose because we're dating and didn't want a third wheel."
I blink once and fold my arms across my chest. "Well, did you tell her we're not?"
He hesitates and then looks back at the list with a sudden concentration before taking ahold of the cart and wheeling around me and away from me until I'm left standing there and staring into space.
"Flynn," I grit as I march towards his retreating back. He doesn't respond. He confidently strides towards another aisle and I tail after him.
"Flynn, whatever your middle name is, Cauley!"
"My middle name's Tristan," he drawls, spinning around to meet my very annoyed form marching towards him. He doesn't look the least intimidated, instead, he folds his arms and smirks as I approach him like he's found the whole situation amusing.
"You let her believe we're dating?" I accuse as soon as I get to him and he shrugs.
He takes his lip between his teeth and smiles. "Why not?"
I'm furious. "Why not? Why not? Because we're not is why not."
Flynn sighs. "So many nots."
"Listen," he starts before I can get a swear word out. "Spontaneous, I know. But we don't have to date. Remember when Eloise suggested I make her jealous? You know? Toy with her a little?"
I nod slowly, still a little bit confused. "So?"
"So that's what I'm doing. We don't have to date. You don't like me and I don't like you and that's cool. You just have to pretend you do."
"Like fake dating?"
He claps his hands together and holds my head. "I knew you were bright."
I shrug him off. "Count me out."
"I take it back."
I frown at him. "You didn't ask me first before confirming her suspicions. How'd you know I'd play along?"
Flynn grins now. A full dimpled grin. His eyes are staring at me wickedly. "Craig Johnston hates me and he doesn't hide it and he won't stop bothering you. Best way to bruise his ego and get him to leave you alone? Date his enemy. But it's an act and he doesn't know it."
I flip my hoodie down my head and fold my arms. My body has adjusted to the cold temperature already and my mind is running a mile a minute. Craig, for some insane reason, doesn't think I'm over him. I chew hard on my lip and look up at Flynn.
"How'd you know he won't stop bothering me?"
"I saw him try to talk to you on Halloween but you were handling it just fine so I didn't bother stepping in. Plus I saw him bugging Khalid to give him your number. I'm not sure Khalid did but he'll find it, that's for sure. Should be blowing up your phone anytime soon." He wiggles his fingers to my pocket where my phone bulges.
I let out an exasperated breath and run my hands over my face. That dick. I don't know what he wants from me.
"Plus," Flynn sings as he watches me. He knows he's getting to me. "I could get David to remember you exist."
"I thought we already met."
"He's a forgetful prick. Won't even remember your name the next time you meet."
I glare at him. "What would he want to do with someone who's 'dating' someone else?"
Flynn shakes his head. "We just have to act like it when Semia or that dick you used to go out with are around. Take my hand a few times, flirty smiles and all. David doesn't have to be involved in the whole pretend act."
I nod and place my empty coffee cup against his chest. "How long is this going to be for?"
"Just a few days. They get the message, it's a win-win. Shouldn't take long."
"So," he stands straighter. "What do you say?"
"Ask me nicely."
"What?" He laughs and takes the cup from my hand. "Seriously? You're forgetting you're benefiting from this, right? You want me to get on my knees?" He taunts.
Arrogant douche. "Sure, why not? Like I said earlier, you agreed without my consent. It's the least you can do. Besides, I can get rid of Craig my own way. Meanwhile, you need me to make a girl jealous." I goad. It's partly a lie. I don't really know how to get rid of Craig at the moment but it'd be nice to see Flynn grovel.
His eyes twinkle with arrogance and mischief as he stares at me. "You're not exactly my type, Pryce. I'm not going to kneel in front of a girl wearing mismatched socks."
I look down at the red and blue, completely different patterned socks adorning each feet and look back at him. I suck in my cheeks once in an attempt to hide my embarrassment.
"I couldn't agree more because the same goes for me," I say and wave around. "And yet here we are."
I place my hands on my waist and smirk before snatching the list away from him. "So are you going to ask me nicely or not, Tris?"
He scowls. "Don't call me that."
"What's that, Tris?" I ask, going through the list and the cart and becoming grateful that it's completed. "I'm not sure I heard you right."
The smirk doesn't leave my face as I turn around and wheel the cart towards the counter and hand over mum's credit card to the cashier. Flynn sidles up to me and whispers a very sour please in my ear and I ignore him.
"Thank you for shopping at The Central," the lady smiles and I smile back and hand over the bags to my slave.
"You're welcome." I tell her before heading out of the store. The air outside isn't as cold as it was earlier and I'm grateful for that. Flynn follows behind, effortlessly carrying the bags and mumbling under his breath.
"Josephine Pryce," he calls.
I turn around and raise a brow at him. "Yes?"
"Please," he sighs, rolling his eyes as he does so. "Be my fake girlfriend for a few days."
I grab the bags from his hands and walk away. Over my shoulder, I nonchalantly say, "I'll think about it." And then I start the journey back to my house before he can offer me a ride.