Faking It Read Online Free PDF Page B

They were just kids who needed a place to hang out.
    I said, “I really do.”
    After a few moments of hesitation, she slipped her hand into mine and shook. She frowned and said, “Max Miller—musician and raging bitch. I’m sorry for slapping you.”
    “And pinching me,” I added, even though I wasn’t sorry. It had given me an excuse to touch her.
    “And pinching you. And thank you, I guess, for today. And for tomorrow. And sorry number two that you have to spend your Thanksgiving with my crazy parents.”
    I smiled. She had this scrunched look on her face, and I could just tell that an apology from this girl was a rare occurrence. I shrugged. “Hey, don’t feel bad. I was planning to spend tomorrow home alone with some Chinese food. I’m sure your mother’s turkey is much better.”
    She smiled begrudgingly. “It is. She’s a crazy good cook. Emphasis on the crazy.”
    “But the slapping . . . that you can feel bad for.”
    She rolled her eyes, and moved away. “I said I was sorry!”
    “What? No offer to kiss it better?” She raised an eyebrow, but I swear her eyes dropped to my lips for just a second. I thought of kissing her, just doing it, without thinking about the fact that we didn’t know each other or about her real boyfriend. But she stood, and the moment passed.
    She said, “Well, Cade Winston, I really have to get going. I’m already late for my band practice, but can you come over early tomorrow before my parents arrive? We can map out the rest of our story then, so there’s no more need to improvise with hugs.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her address and her number on a napkin.
    I pocketed it, threw my empty cup in the trash, and followed her to the door. I knew she said she had to go, but I wanted just a little bit longer with her. “You never got to drink your coffee,” I said, thinking back to when she’d dropped it earlier during the phone call from her parents. “Let me get you another cup.”
    She shook her head. “I should be the one buying you coffee.”
    “You’re having a stressful morning. You deserve a break.” She looked at me like I’d just made some grand gesture. Her boyfriend must have been a real dick if she was impressed by a cup of coffee. I added, “Besides, I don’t actually drink coffee, so it’s a moot point.”
    She laughed. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever actually heard someone say ‘moot point.’ And if you don’t like coffee, what are you doing in a coffee shop?”
    “I was supposed to pretend to be a girl’s long-lost brother, but she canceled at the last minute. It’s cool, pretend boyfriend gigs are so much more fun.”
    We stepped up to the cashier, and she said, “Medium coffee.”
    I watched her mix in a cream and two packets of sugar. As she stirred the drink, she eyed me like I was a puzzle to piece together.
    “You’re kind of funny, Winston.”
    She took a sip of her coffee, and what was left of her lipstick left a red smudge on the rim of the cup. It drove me crazy.
    I said, “I’m more than kind of funny. You’ll see.”
    “And cocky.” She smiled up at me. “You’re a little hard to puzzle out, you know.”
    “I’m willing to spend as much time with you as you’d like while you try to figure me out.”
    She laughed. “Let’s just stick with tomorrow for now. See you later, boyfriend.”
    “Until tomorrow, Mackenzie.”
    She made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, and shook her head. As she pushed open the glass door at the front, she called over her shoulder, “You do not want to play that game, honey.”
    She looked back just for a second as she crossed the street, and her eyes met mine through the window. A thrill bubbled up in my chest that reminded me of a race, of auditioning and fighting for a role that I knew should be mine.
    I stood there like an idiot watching her leave until the cashier said, “Hey man, did you need something else?”
    “No, I’m good,