Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone Page 13

  Pax’s lips tip with another grin. “What do you want to do after graduation?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Really?”

  “I know I don’t want to be a psychologist like my mom or in construction like my dad.”

  He grins. “That leaves a lot of ground.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Pax chuckles. “Drive safely.”

  I give him a single-finger pistol.

  “Be sure to put no finger guns in the rules,” he says, pointing at me before he closes the door so I can’t tell him that’ll never happen.

  I sit in class, waiting for the professor to arrive. He’s always a couple of minutes late, and I’m generally a few minutes early. It’s a massive lecture hall with several hundred students. I pull out my notepad with the rules and add:

  10. Finger guns are a plus. ;)

  11. Every time it rains, be sure to stand outside with a boombox on your shoulder.

  I grin as I write the rule and then take a picture to send to Pax.

  “Hey.”

  My phone slips from my grasp, hitting the floor with a thunk as Mike slides into the seat beside me. He reaches for it before I can process what has just happened. I hastily reach for my phone, praying he doesn’t see the screen. “Thanks,” I say, shoving it and my notebook into my bag. “Sorry.” I swallow, trying to arrange my thoughts.

  “I thought I saw you in this class last week,” he says, leaning back in his seat. He sticks the pen behind his ear, sending me into a time warp dating back to high school when he did the exact same thing. “I’m a little surprised you’re taking the class and yet not at all,” he says.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’ve always been so intrigued about the ‘why’ rather than the ‘what’ in life. You like to ask questions, and you’re a learner.” He tilts his head. “But, you also loathe politics.”

  “I don’t loathe politics.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, you do. You never want to discuss them. You always assume they’re all corrupt.”

  I shrug. “Too many are.”

  He laughs again.

  “I’ve been getting more interested in them. I used to see politics as a warzone. It seemed like anytime they were brought up, people argued and insulted each other. But, with Rae studying cetology and seeing how people could benefit from talking to someone like my mom, it was getting harder to avoid politics. I still don’t want to chat with a stranger about them, but I’m becoming more interested in the discussion. It seems like it’s the fear of having these discussions that have led to so many problems. Maybe if we’d all stop trying to talk over each other, we’d realize all sides have things they’re right and wrong about, and we all generally want the same things for each other and the world.”

  Mike pulls the pen from behind his ear. “Your mind has always fascinated me.”

  13

  Paxton

  I knock for a third time before checking my phone to ensure I have the details correct.

  “Hey,” Poppy says, opening the front door. She’s wearing a cobalt blue dress that touches her knees, her long red hair in curled waves over her shoulders, drawing attention to her bright green eyes and the subtle hint of freckles that pepper her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her lips are glossy and red and so damn distracting I’m undoubtedly breaking one of our rules as I stare too long.

  “Sorry. I was doing Rae’s hair and didn’t hear the door.” She pulls the door fully open, inviting me inside.

  “That’s okay,” I say, glancing at her dress again. I’ve seen her dressed up for parties and numerous events over the years, but something catches my attention this evening. Maybe it’s because she’s finally smiling with the same assuredness that I always imagine her with or because the memory of her is starting to change and have more than just a placeholder in my thoughts. “You look really nice.”

  Poppy looks at the dress, smoothing the fabric with her hands that is tight around her shoulders and chest and then loosely flares around her waist and legs. “Thanks. We’re kind of flying blind because Lincoln won’t tell us what’s happening tonight.” She points at me, a gentle crease between her eyes. “Do you know? Should we be wearing pants? I told her I’m betting he plans an activity of some kind. He knows she doesn’t want a party.”

  I grin, taking the excuse to look her over again. “What you’re wearing is great.”

  She looks at my jeans and dark sweater, the crease smoothing with assurance. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

  “Sorry. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

  She balks. “We need to add another rule, no secrets.”

  “Secrets are the spice of life.”

  “Nice try, smooth talker.”

  I chuckle and raise the birthday present in my hands. “I’m going to set this on the table. You guys have to finish getting ready. We can’t be late.”

  “Is that a hint?”

  “Go!”

  She narrows her eyes before turning and striding back through the apartment, turning into Rae’s bedroom.

  “Hey, Pax!” Rae yells a few seconds later. “I’m almost ready.”

  “Take your time. I’m just going to raid your Oreo stash.”

  “We’re out!” she yells back.

  This doesn’t surprise me. Rae and Poppy have always been junk food addicts and can destroy a package of cookies in the span of a movie.

  I pick up the TV remote, but before I can flip it on, someone knocks. Arlo, Olivia, Rose, and Ian are outside. “It’s party time!” Arlo cheers, throwing both hands in the air.

  “He doesn’t get this excited for his own birthday,” Rose says as they pile into the living room.

  “Where’s Caleb?” Arlo asks.

  “He’s on his way. He’s bringing Julie,” I say.

  Arlo’s eyebrows jump. “That went fast.”

  They met at the Halloween party, which technically means they’ve been together a day longer than Poppy and me. “She seems cool,” I say. “She was at the house last night, hanging out.”

  “My boy deserves someone good,” Arlo says. I couldn’t agree more. Caleb is one of the most genuine, generous, and best kinds of people, and he’s been nursing a heartbreak for a couple of years that has left him uninterested in meeting anyone.

  “Where’s the birthday girl?” Olivia asks.

  “We’re coming!” Rae says, appearing from her bedroom with Poppy at her side, their hands joined. Part of what makes this arrangement both easier and harder is knowing how close the two are. I know Poppy would never do anything to deceive or jeopardize my future because her relationship with Rae is a bond as tightly knit as mine with my roommates. They would do anything for each other, and that ensures my privacy as well as her loyalty, and while I have no intention of taking that for granted and have every intention of returning the same respect, Lincoln’s warning that she will be hurt by the agreement or potentially by Candace leaves the residue of uncertainty as I take her in again.

  Luis from our team and his girlfriend Alexis, show up next, closely followed by Tyler and Cooper who are also teammates, and their girlfriends Chloe and Nessie. And Caleb, and Julie arrive minutes later. Before we have time to settle or talk, Lincoln arrives and claps his hands.

  “We will have time to hang out later, but right now, we’ve got to get going because we have three hours until we’re meeting up for dinner, and before that, we have a scavenger hunt.”

  Poppy and Rae look at each other, and break into wide smiles. When Lincoln asked me to help him plan Rae’s birthday, I was clueless. My sister has never been big on the party scene. She likes small and intimate events and activities where time is spent together. I’d suggested we do another beach cleanup or something that would help the dolphins and whales that she devotes hours of every week to studying and helping, but Lincoln had a better idea in mind.

  “Scavenger hunt?” Ian asks.

  Lincoln nods. “Couples are the
teams. Everyone has the same list of Rae’s favorite things but in a different order, and your objective is to go to those locations. If you pick the right spot, you’ll find a cardboard cutout of Rae’s face with a challenge. You have to take a picture while completing each challenge, and a second picture with the cardboard cutout. Whichever team completes the most tasks before we meet for dinner is the winner.”

  “But you know all the stops,” Arlo objects.

  Lincoln shakes his head. “I hired a company who asked Rae the questions and compiled the list. I honestly have no idea what the challenges are or where we have to go.”

  “Do we get hints?” Poppy asks.

  Lincoln pulls out a stack of envelopes. “I’m assuming so, but I don’t know. Each team has its own sealed envelope. I haven’t seen the clues yet.” He disperses the envelopes, passing them to each of the girls. “We meet at seven at Catalina’s, and if you’re late, you’re disqualified.”

  “Bloody hell,” Tyler says. “If you have us streaking downtown…” He shakes his head and peers at the envelope Rae’s holding. “This is going to be like our road trip all over again. Is your envelope sealed, or is he pulling my leg?”

  Rae hands Tyler the envelope, letting him check it as Lincoln reminds us where we’re meeting.

  “Go!” Lincoln yells.

  Half of the group scatters toward the door while the other half of us move out to the balcony as Lincoln locks their apartment and we open our respective envelopes.

  “I know where we’re going,” Poppy says, grabbing my arm. I follow her, taking her hand when we reach the bottom of the stairs and leading her to my car. I unlock the doors, and she slips into the passenger seat, fastening her seat belt. “We’re going to Pike’s Place,” she says.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nods. “Positive.”

  I don’t question her again. If anyone knows my sister, it’s Poppy.

  She reads each of the hints to me as we make the short drive there, writing on the paper when we guess at a few of them.

  “I think several of them are here. Do we have to go in order?”

  I read over the sheet, skimming through the brief set of rules printed at the top, and shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  She nods. “Come on. The first one is the chocolate store over here. They give tours, and Rae and I have done it like three times.”

  We follow the crosswalk, the air thick with humidity, but the weather is holding out for us.

  “Come on,” Poppy grips the inside of my arm as we hurry across the street and down the sidewalk. She pulls the door open, and I hold it so she can walk ahead of me. We stop inside, scanning the rectangular-shaped shop, looking for the cardboard cutout.

  “There it is,” I say, pointing at a wall that has pictures of cocoa bean plants. “We came here for one of her birthdays,” I say, recalling the tour now that we’re here.

  Poppy looks at me, her eyes are bright with enthusiasm for the race. “Her sixteenth,” she says.

  “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  She grins. “You hated the white chocolate.”

  “It’s not chocolate,” I tell her.

  Poppy laughs. “Come on. Let’s see what it says.” She heads across the store, where the cardboard cutout is approximately a foot wide.

  “Chocolate was among the most desired foods in Mesoamerica with fermented chocolate beverages that date back to four-fifty BC. It was an energy booster and aphrodisiac with medicinal qualities. Tonight, celebrate the gifts of chocolate by enjoying a piece of cake. Only, there’s a twist, partners must feed each other,” I read the challenge aloud. “Poor Olivia,” I say.

  Poppy laughs outright. “Where do we get cake?”

  As I turn, an employee is heading toward us, carrying a slice of chocolate cake. “If you eat off of your own fork, you have to stay here for ten extra minutes,” he warns, handing me the plate and two forks.

  “Okay, should we aim for speed or creativity?” I ask.

  Poppy grins a full-watt smile. “Time. Definitely time.” She has always had a competitive edge, one that sits dormant much of the time that makes her easy-going attitude often shine, but years of Monopoly sagas in our living room remind me of her love for winning.

  “Let’s do this.” I set the cake on the table and spear a large bite.

  “How big do you think my mouth is?” she asks, eyeing my fork.

  An erotic image starts to form in my head, faded as though it’s several layers under my consciousness. “The fewer bites, the faster we go,” I manage to say.

  She laughs again, and rather than shy away from the bite, she leans closer so I can place the cake into her mouth. I can’t recall a time I’ve ever fed someone, so I never knew how borderline sexy it actually feels—Poppy with her mouth open and waiting for me to put something inside is borderline erogenous. When the chocolate cake reaches her lips, and she lets out a tiny moan of approval, my brain short-circuits long enough not to realize she’s already stabbed a piece of cake and is holding it out for me.

  I swallow and focus on eating the forkful of cake. My second bite for her is smaller but has more frosting that catches on her lip.

  “It’s okay. We just have to eat,” she says around the mouthful of cake. “Here!” She grabs another bite for me and shovels it into my mouth.

  “This is really good cake,” she says. “I want more frosting. Not on my face,” she adds.

  I grin, cutting off a bite with another thick layer of frosting, and am distracted again as she runs her tongue across her lips, trying to capture the frosting left behind from the previous bite.

  “We need to take a picture!” she cries, reaching for her phone. She flips the view around, so we see ourselves on the screen, then she leans forward and accepts another bite from me as she takes the picture. “We’re almost done,” she says.

  We continue until the slice is gone, and both of us have frosting smeared across our faces that we commemorate by taking our selfie with the cardboard picture of Rae’s face.

  “I think this next one is the gum wall. But I don’t have any memories of the gum wall.”

  “Our grandpa used to take us there,” I say. “When she was little, she used to peel off old pieces and chew them.”

  “So gross,” Poppy says, scrunching her nose as she laughs. “No wonder I’ve never heard about it.” She scans the list. “Oh! This one is here. The flower shop. The one down by the fish catching. Rae used to have a crush on a guy who worked there, and he’d give her free flowers when we walked by.”

  “Bet Lincoln doesn’t know the backstory for that one,” I say.

  She grins. “It was innocent. Come on. Let’s go.”

  The market is winding down as the afternoon starts to get later, making it easy to weave through the crowds. When we hit the flower stand, Poppy quickly finds the picture of Rae hidden among buckets of flowers.

  “Do I still have frosting on my face?” she asks.

  I nod and gently lift my thumb to brush it off. Her skin is so soft, and her lips gently part as I stroke the corner of her mouth. Blood surges in my veins, and images flood my thoughts but then she flashes another benign smile.

  “Let’s take the picture first, and then we’ll read the clue so we don’t forget.” Poppy pulls out her phone and waves for me to stand across from her in front of the cutout.

  I squat to be level with her and smile as she announces for me to, “Say cheese!”

  The vendor appears with two red roses that the challenge instructs us to place between our teeth and take another picture while trying to kiss. Poppy places the stem between her teeth, her cheeks pulled back with a smile that is nearly as distracting as it was to feed her. With the flowers in our mouths, the kiss is nothing more than our noses and mouths mashing against one another, which has Poppy giggling again as she removes the flower from her mouth. “That picture is going to be deleted after tonight.”

  In my chest is a commotion that I try to du
tifully ignore as Poppy begins reading off more of the hints.

  “This one is definitely the aquarium, and I think this one is the movie theater. This one is in Pioneer Square, and this one, too.”

  “Lead the way.”

  She flashes another smile, and we continue, collecting one more stop at Pike’s place before rushing back to the car.

  Our stops take us to a small bookstore where we pose with a stack of books and are told to create an image with books, something that has me scratching my head and Poppy rifling through shelves until she finds a copy of a romance novel that has a man without a shirt or a head on the cover and positions it so it looks like it’s my body. We continue to a café where there’s an outside band, and our challenge is to dance together. After that, we head to the aquarium, where we are given sheets of paper to draw a birthday card to Rae and post it at the front entrance. At the gum wall, there’s a lockbox with Rae’s birthday as the code, and inside is a pack of gum with the instructions to each take a stick and capture a picture while blowing a giant bubble.

  “This has to be the movie theater,” Poppy says. “And this one has to do with football,” she passes the list to me. “How much time do we have left?”

  “Ten minutes,” I say, skimming over the hint that she’s pointing to.

  “There’s no way we can get all of these.”

  “They said it would take a full day, but with football and school, we knew that would be near impossible. I still think we might win this, though. Ty and Cooper don’t stand a chance because they don’t know Seattle, and Arlo and Ian won’t know the childhood clues. Caleb and Rae are going to be our toughest competitors. We’ve got this. Let’s go in and find this clue.” I open the large glass door, noting the reluctance in her green eyes.

  “I hate unfinished lists,” she murmurs.

  I grin. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  Inside of the movie theater, it feels like the air conditioner is running, and the lights are dimmed and purple, casting a cool glow across the space. “I can’t believe you guys still come here,” I say.