23. Aurora: Advice from Friends

Chapter twenty-three

Aurora – Advice from Friends

“. . . and that’s when I zoomed out of the parking lot, called an S.O.S, and here we are!” I finish with a dramatic flair, draining the last of my wine.

I look up from the wine glass to see Ryan and Brittney staring at me with their mouths wide open, unblinking.

“Guys, are you alright?” I ask laughingly, not in the least shocked at their reactions.

I would react the same too if one of my friends told me about how she goes from taking breakfast orders to being someone’s fake girlfriend overnight and has already met his family, not letting go of the fact that she had a great dislike for the fake boyfriend. And her ex-boyfriend is the fiancé of the fake boyfriend’s little sister’s best friend. Crazy stuff, yeah. Sounds like a real scene from a bad romantic comedy. Only this isn’t a comedy, it’s my life.

Ryan takes a huge gulp of his wine while Britt pinches herself to ensure it’s all real.

She raises a well-plucked brow, pointing a beautifully manicured finger at me. “Girl, are you tripping on something? Or probably you dreamed the whole thing up?”

Disbelief is etched on her beautiful face.

Ryan chips in: “Right, Aurora. Are you sure you haven’t gone to the alternate universe overnight, and now you’re relating the events to reality?”

I roll my eyes at my friends’ dramatic replies. To some extent, I don’t blame them. Initially, I had a hard time accepting the situation myself. And now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure that anyone would find it hard to believe.

“Calm down guys, the situation is not as strange as you’re making it out to be,” I say, trying to mask how I truly feel, the weight of it all dawning on me again.

“Aur, we all know that is panic talking from within. We know you too well,” Britt says pointedly, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

I lick my lips and look away, because she is right.

“Everything is special about the situation, Aur,” Ryan butts in, absentmindedly playing with the watch on his wrist as he unclasps it and tosses it gently on the table.

“First, you get mistaken as Jake’s girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend shows up, who happens to be Alex’s fiancée, your ex-boyfriend,” Britt lists, ticking off her fingers one after the other.

“This feels like a weird serial TV show. And then, what? You and Jake decide to go with the misunderstanding because he doesn’t want to disappoint his family, and also because he doesn’t want to attend his sister’s wedding with his ex? And you agree because you have a very kind heart? Then you both fall in love and live happily ever after?” Ryan fires, laying my own thoughts right out there in plain sight.

No, not the falling in love part. That can’t be. The question that has been resonating in my mind all day: What now? What’s next?

Jake has promised to link up so we can discuss the matter. But what will be the conclusion? Can I really go through with being Jake’s fake girlfriend? Sophia is Bella’s best friend, Sophia’s attendance can’t be missed during the preparations, the rehearsals, and the actual wedding. Sophia’s presence inevitably means more run-ins with Alex.

I feel a sharp pain on my elbow and I jump, yowling in response. I look up to see Ryan grinning wickedly at me, and Britt with a worried look on her face.

“Hey! What gives?” I scowl at him, my elbow still smarting from the pinch.

“You were totally out of it for a moment back there. Are you okay?” Britt asks.

“I’m fine, I was just pondering over how it would go. If I decide to tell Jake’s family the truth, Alex will find every reason to be around me, so he can make my life miserable. And being around Bella for the wedding means I’ll inexorably run into him. I really don’t want that. You both know how he can get.” I lay out my worries, chewing on my bottom lip at the complications of it all.

“Yeah, we know how he can get all right. I remember the one time he crashed our party and almost stayed up all night with us,” Britt reminisces, a glare on her face at the memory, and I cringe in reply .

“And what’s wrong with wanting to stay with one’s girlfriend all night at a party? Sounds pretty cool to me. I’d probably do the same,” Ryan counters, picking up a slice of pizza from its box.

Britt raises both brows at this, shooting him a weird look. “It was a slumber party. For girls only. We wore matching PJs and painted our nails. And he insisted on doing everything we did that day because he believed under the PJs were clothes we’d use to sneak out to a party after he was gone. Not that we needed his permission. Then when we didn’t have PJs his size, and he said he didn’t mind being in his t-shirt and boxer shorts. That’s when we kicked him out.”

Ryan chokes on his pizza, coughing violently, and I rush a glass of water to his lips. He drinks it eagerly, trying his best to hold back his laughter to avoid a full-blown choking fit.

“What?!” he sputters out. “This actually happened?” I go back to my seat, embarrassment coloring me entirely red. “Yes, it happened, Ryan,” I answer, in a small voice.

“How come I didn’t know about it all this time?” He starts laughing, slapping his hand on his thigh, and I cover my face in shame, wanting to purge my brain of the memory.

“We both promised not to tell you. Well . . . Aur begged me not to reveal this to another living soul.”

“But you just did,” Ryan replies, pointing at her with yet another slice of pizza.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s not like we’re still together. And leave some pizza for the rest of us.” I swat his hand when he tries to take another slice.

“Back to important matters, what do you intend to do, Aur?” Britt says, taking a slice for herself.

“Honestly, I want to have a discussion with Jake before I draw a conclusion. We both have the same goals, the same enemies, albeit in different people, but since they come as a couple it’s the same thing. We don’t want our exes hanging around us during the wedding.”

I continue: “Avoiding that would be a win on both sides. His family knows about me already. That’s an obstacle out of our way. I’d go with the plan and break up after the wedding … after a month or two at least, so as not to arouse suspicions.”

Mr. Snow struts into the room, the new, sleek, red bow tie I just got him sitting majestically around his neck. The shiny edges of the bow glint with every step he takes. Britt coos at him and Ryan rolls his eyes.

“Here comes my arch nemesis, his royal assness , Mr. Snow,” he says.

“I can’t believe you’re keeping up a beef with a cat, Ryan,” I laugh, in disbelief.

My cat and Ryan never get along, but he takes up every opportunity to sleep on Britt’s lap whenever she comes over. He struts straight towards Britt, narrowing his eyes at Ryan, who, in turn, glares at him. He raises his head and his tail proudly, pawing his way towards Britt. She picks him up and showers his face with kisses, muttering sweet nothings to him.

“I am not keeping up a beef with him. Your cat hates me only because he can’t stand seeing another male more handsome than he is . . . yunno,” Ryan replies, with a smug look on his face .

And I swear, I see the cat glare at him. Britt and I burst out laughing, and Mr. Snow settles himself comfortably on Britt’s lap, purring contentedly while Britt runs a hand through his fur.

“His majesty has shifted our focus from the important discussion,” Ryan points out, spitting out ‘majesty’ sarcastically, and I roll my eyes at his childish antics.

“I say you go with the flow and go ahead and date Jake. See where it leads to after the wedding,” Ryan suggests, while pouring himself another glass of wine.

“I second your suggestion, Ryan. Just go with the flow, Aur, and see where this leads to,” Britt pipes in, not looking up from her impromptu massage on Mr. Snow, her eyes glued to his shiny fur.

I sit up from my slouch at their suggestions. “No, no, no! Y’all are getting the whole situation wrong. It’s supposed to be FAKE dating, not going with the flow, or seeing where it leads. If Jake’s thoughts align with mine, the plan will be to be in a pretend relationship until the wedding’s over. We are not actually dating and going with the flow. Remember?”

“Why not date for real? Why fake it since you guys will be spending time together after all?” Britt asks, pointing Mr. Snow’s paw at me as a substitute for her own fingers. Ryan nods vigorously at her weird suggestion.

“Last time I checked, Jake and I aren’t exactly in love with each other. We’re just two people who have common enemies and a common goal with a common idea to get rid of them. Also, it was just a misunderstanding that occurred. I am not exactly his girlfriend. What part of these concepts don’t you understand, guys?”

“Didn’t Jake ask you to be his girlfriend just last week?” Ryan asks, with furrowed brows.

“Fake. Girlfriend,” I deadpan. Seriously, did my friends’ brains get filtered or what?

“I say date,” Ryan says, as if folding in a game of cards.

“I say date,” Britt parrots, and I nearly slap them each across the head.

“I believe you’re both idiots,” I say, picking up a slice of the now barely warm pizza.

Ryan’s phone dings, and he glances at me before typing rapidly. He pockets his phone and swipes the last slice of pizza.

“Hey!” I protest.

He shrugs, quickly licking it! Britt leans across and slaps him upside his head.

“Greedy little thief,” I hiss, scowling at him.

“I say we hit the bar!” he shouts, after washing down his stolen pizza with the remnants of the wine.

I groan, tucking my legs underneath me and flopping my head to the edge of the couch.

“Do we have to?” I whine. The thought of leaving the couch is really not appealing to me.

“It amazes me how you are able to own a bar but find it difficult to hang out or unwind in one.” Britt stares at me like I’m some sort of weirdo.

“Yeah, but do we have to? I really don’t feel like it. And why the sudden idea to go to the bar?” she asks suspiciously, looking up to stare at Ryan with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, we have to,” he says in a weird tone, making Brittney look up to stare at him for a moment as well .

“Yeah! Let’s hit the bar!” She gently places Mr. Snow on the sofa.

He, in turn, stares at Ryan with an accusing look. Ryan smirks at him, and I roll my eyes for the hundredth time this evening. Seriously, who keeps or counts scores with a cat?

“Get yourself off the couch. Upstairs you go,” Ryan tuts.

I groan again, knowing there is no escaping this.

“Come on girl, let’s go get you all dressed up!” Britt hollers, and I hunker down, imagining how nice it’d be if I could go in my trusted sweatpants and comfy, baggy shirt.

The last sight I see is of Ryan making the, ‘I got my eyes on you’ gesture at Mr. Snow with a serious expression on his face. I shake my head at his hopelessness, following Britt up the stairs.

Why the sudden need to go to the bar? I’m not sure, but it feels like a set-up, for some reason.