Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone Read online

  “The dance floor’s even busy,” Vanessa remarks. “I didn’t think people would want to dance without being tipsy.”

  The dance floor is filled with people dressed in costume, dancing, and having fun. I’d shared her same concern, but it’s proving to have been another wasted thought, similar to those of Mike. “We should go play the mummy game. That actually looks way more fun than I gave the guys credit for,” I say, looking out onto the front lawn where people are lined up to participate in wrapping a partner up in toilet paper for fifteen seconds against a competing pair to see who most resembles a mummy.

  “Where’s Rae?” Olivia asks. “I haven’t seen her since we got back.”

  I glance toward the kitchen where Rae’s with Lincoln, a smile streaking across her face. We just passed the anniversary of nearly losing Rae. She’d jumped into the ocean to save a dolphin and nearly drowned in the process. I knew the date didn’t go unnoticed because Lincoln made dinner reservations for the two of them, then hunkered down in our apartment as if that night was jinxed. I point to where my best friend is filling a glass while laughing, dressed in a red one-piece bathing suit, her hair up and a giant red flower clipped to one side. Lincoln is beside her, wearing jeans and a white tee that we cut the sleeves off and a tool belt around his waist. “They’re dressed as the characters from Overboard,” I say. It had been Rae’s idea, one that Lincoln took in stride after initially refusing.

  “They look happy,” Rose says, her voice a cornerstone between wistful and happy before she turns her head in the direction of where Ian is standing beside a couple of his teammates including Tyler and Cooper. He seems to feel her stare and turns to look back at her, making that space in my heart ache, reminding me of how being single can feel so lonely at times when everyone else seems blissfully in love.

  I square my shoulders, regretting the thought as quickly as it formed. I’m not lonely. I have great friends, classes, my family, goals, and the truth of the matter is that last year, I tried to move on and meet other guys. My crash course involved falling for Chase Schultz, a member of the rugby team who ran colder than he did hot. His mood swings were only overshadowed by his disappearing acts. Excuses weren’t enough for me to weather the storm and see if things would change. “I’m going to play the mummy wrap game. If I don’t get away from those snacks, I’m going to go back for more of the mini cupcakes.”

  “Oh my gosh! They’re so good!” Olivia says. “Did you try all three flavors?”

  “Twice,” I tell her. I needed to erase the memory of the ones I made earlier in the week, which ended up being a disaster. It turns out, if you don’t have cupcake liners, you need to spray the pan or they come out a crumbly mess. Lesson learned. “I’m going to have to be cut out of this dress if I stay in here.”

  Olivia grins. “Have fun. We’ll catch up with you later.”

  I head outside, the air brisk but surprisingly dry.

  “Hey!” Sophie, a girl I shared a few classes with last year, smiles at me. She’s dressed as Black Widow. Her gaze trails over my costume as she cocks her head to the side. “Who are you dressed up as? Oh! Are you that girl from the movie Clue?”

  I shake my head. “Roger Rabbit.”

  Her face scrunches like she’s trying to recall the movie. “I don’t know if I’ve seen it.”

  “It’s from the eighties,” I tell her.

  She laughs. “I definitely haven’t seen it then.”

  I grin. The best thing about waiting a year to host our first college party is knowing nearly all of the attendees. Not that the occasional anonymity factor isn’t a bonus. Last year, I relied heavily on obscurity as I flirted with random guys in an attempt to figure out what my type was. But being surrounded by familiar faces—many of whom I consider friends—has a quality that makes me care far less about unwanted party guests. “You look amazing! I’m having a major case of costume envy.”

  Sophie laughs. “We can swap for next year. I can’t believe how expensive costumes are.”

  “Deal.” I glance at the crowd of people laughing beyond us. “Have you done the mummy game?”

  Sophie shakes her head. “I can only bend a few inches, and then it feels like I’m either going to split my suit or fall over.”

  “That sounds hazardous.”

  She shares a friendly smile. “I saw some of the guys from the football team in line, though.” Her eyebrows dance. “I can’t believe you’re best friends with Rae, and you get to see Paxton all of the time.” She fans herself.

  I follow her gaze to where Paxton’s standing off to the side, replenishing rolls of toilet paper for the game while talking to a couple of guys from the team. Paxton Lawson should require a label—a warning label that is. He’s tall, well over six feet, with a perfectly toned body. His sand-colored hair is lighter around his temples, and sky-blue eyes rest above sculpted cheekbones. But the real warning is how personable he is. Paxton cares about things and people. He has a gentle heart that I have no doubt came from his sisters and mom, with whom he’s always been close with. He’s dependable and genuine and revered as one of the best college football players in the league.

  I’ve known Paxton nearly my entire life and yet barely know him at all. With him being two years older than Rae and me, he rarely spent time interacting with us. He had his own friend group, his own interests—that largely revolved around football—all of which allowed an easy barrier to be constructed and clear roles for us to play. I was Rae’s best friend. He was her brother, and never shall the two cross. I knew that if those roles blurred, I’d be doomed to experience one of two outcomes: fall head over heels for my best friend’s brother or forever be disappointed in the opposite sex. Therefore, as I got older, our roles became unwritten rules that enabled me to be polite and friendly and never get close enough to care about who he dated or the other details of his life. It’s been more challenging to abide by these rules over the past few years as Rae and Paxton have gotten closer, causing our paths to intersect at multiple points, harder yet since she began dating Lincoln.

  “If I were in your shoes, I’d be looking for every excuse to nap in his bed.” She releases a frustrated growl. “Is he still dating what’s-her-name?”

  “Candace? No. They broke up.”

  I might know too many details of Paxton’s dating life.

  Sophie’s eyes widen. “Broke up, broke up?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. They’ve done this a million times.”

  Her lips tug into a disappointed frown. “That’s what I’ve heard.” She turns to look at Paxton again. “I’d like to sign up to be his rebound, but I can’t figure him out. I can’t tell if he’s the kinky threesome type or the wholesome boy next door who buys a promise ring to show his devotion.”

  I try to shake her words that have my gaze drifting back to Pax.

  “Hey,” Rae smiles as she reaches us, pulling a sweater around her body. “Hi, Sophie. It’s good to see you.”

  “I was just drooling over your brother,” Sophie admits. “Have I mentioned how ridiculously cute it is that you’re dating Paxton’s best friend? If Poppy were to date Paxton, it would be the same in reverse.” Her eyes grow bright like she’s writing a movie and imagining this playing out in a fictional world, one where Paxton saw me as anything but his sister’s best friend that he consistently warned every guy on the team to stay away from.

  “Pretty sure Pax and I couldn’t be any more platonic,” I say because that’s precisely what my walls and rules have ensured.

  Rae grins. “He sees you as a third sister.”

  “Well, since I’m clear of sibling attachments, can you guys offer any insight? Is it worth flirting with him? Should I give him my number? Or does he have like a million girls already lined up and waiting for him?” She takes another fleeting look toward Pax.

  Rae shrugs. “I try not to get too involved in my brother’s dating life. But, he does have a thing for brunettes.”

  The reminder has me feeling a wav
e of self-consciousness over my red hair before Sophie turns her attention to me. “Don’t look at me. I have no idea. I don’t even know why he and Candace broke up this time.” I look at Rae.

  “Because she’s all drama,” Rae says.

  This is a fact known widely at Brighton. Everyone who encounters Candace finds her memorable, but generally not for the right reasons. She’s addicted to drama and seeks it out like an addict, creating it when none exists.

  “Speaking of drama, Hoyt brought over vodka and spiked the bobbing for apples,” Rae says, referring to another teammate who’s known for pushing the limits.

  I smirk. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  She shakes her head. “Because he’s Hoyt.”

  “What about you, Poppy? Are you dating anyone this year? You were kind of seeing that one guy last year, right?” She snaps. “Chase.”

  I shake my head. “We kind of hung out a few times, but nothing came from it. He’s a nice guy, but we didn’t have enough in common.” That’s my diplomatic way of saying his immaturity toward relationships and life, in general, was exhausting. “What about you?”

  “I was kind of hanging out with Gus Korhonen, but he seems to be allergic to responding to texts…”

  I frown. “I’m sorry. That sounds like Chase. I didn’t even hate it at first,” I tell her. “I mean, I didn’t know if I wanted anything serious or exclusive, but it wasn’t like he was interested in casually dating. He was either blowing up my phone or ignoring me for a solid week.”

  Sophie’s brow lowers. “Sounds like Gus.” She groans. “Why do athletes have to be such assholes?”

  I peek at Paxton, who belts out a laugh as he talks with Ian. Last fall, when we started college, Pax issued a warning to Rae and me, telling us to avoid all athletes. His reasoning was sound, talking about how athletes are treated like celebrities. He forgot to mention that in some instances, this goes to their heads. With Chase, this was definitely the case, but it didn’t really matter. I was still recovering from my breakup with Mike, and college felt like an amusement park in comparison to high school—filled with endless possibilities that I wasn’t about to let Paxton’s concerns deter me from. I wasn’t worried about hearts and flowers. I wanted a guy to desire me the same way I desire Henry Cavill in my dreams.

  “I’m so over mind games. I want to tell every guy that if he likes me, he likes me, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. It’s that simple. Why dance around the issue?” Sophie says.

  “They should add that into orientation day,” I tell her.

  Sophie laughs. “They really should.” Her eyes narrow with interest as she looks past me. “Oh, speak of the devil.” Her eyes connect with mine, a note of warning that makes my chest grow tight. “There’s Chase.”

  Rae jerks her attention to where Sophie is staring and looks at me.

  “I’m pretty sure he recognizes you.” Sophie winces. “He’s heading this way.”

  Before her words have the chance to make my panic set in, someone catches my attention with a wave. Maddie.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Who’s that?” Rae asks. “Tell me it’s not Mike’s girlfriend.”

  “In the flesh.”

  “Who’s Mike?” Sophie asks.

  “My ex from high school.”

  This news has Sophie’s gaze turning in the direction of Maddie. “And the strawberry blonde is his new girlfriend?”

  “Yup.”

  “Is your ex with her?”

  I shake my head. “I don't see him.”

  “Was it an ugly breakup?” Sophie whispers as Maddie continues her path to us.

  “I stopped listening to music for about a year,” I admit.

  Sophie’s wince intensifies. “At least Chase stopped coming this way.” Her phone rings, breaking the anticipation like a scene in a thriller movie. She frowns. “I’m really sorry to leave you, but this is my roommate.”

  I shake my head. “No. Totally. Go.”

  She gives a pained smile and then turns on her heel.

  Rae grips my hand. “It’s okay. This is going to be nothing. We’ll hang out for two seconds, make an excuse to bail, so it doesn’t look like we’re running away, and then go snag a few more of those cupcakes to celebrate.”

  “Hey, Poppy,” Maddie says.

  I force a smile. “Hi, Maddie.”

  She wrings her hands. It’s as though I can physically sense her nerves, and it makes me feel a little like a jerk for wanting to escape, but the feeling to shake her doesn’t lessen in the least. “I feel like it’s the first day of school all over again.” She laughs. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to that feeling. New state, new town, new school.”

  I glance at Rae, wanting to hate Maddie, and struggling to do so. I’m hoping my best friend is finding reasons not to like her. “Maddie, this is my best friend, Raegan Lawson. Rae, this is Maddie. She just moved here from Arkansas with Mike Rio.” I offer the formal introduction to make it sound like I haven’t been gossiping or obsessing about Maddie’s arrival into my life.

  Rae smiles, but it’s glacial. “Nice to meet you.” She looks around, reading my thoughts about Mike. “Is Mike here?”

  Maddie turns, looking toward the front door. “Yeah. He was just saying hi to…” she points. “Tanner.” Mike and Tanner Schmidt, Mike’s best friend who attended high school with us, are walking toward us. He doesn’t attend Brighton, and I haven’t seen him since graduation. I also definitely didn’t invite him.

  Panic floods me as I turn to Rae, utterly unprepared for this moment that I’ve been trying to plan for all week.

  “Hey, Raegan. Hey, Poppy,” Mike says as he comes to a stop, placing his hand around Maddie’s waist. His fingers curl around her hip, and I kind of hate myself for noticing. Self-preservation has clearly taken the day off.

  “Mike,” Rae greets him with another cold smile. “I had no idea you were back in town. I just found out when I met Maddie here.”

  Her words cause him to skip a beat, his gaze traveling between Rae and me twice as though checking to see if our friendship is as strong as it was during high school.

  “We’ve been really busy with planning the party and school,” I explain. Typically, my best friend is as terrible of a liar as I am, but right now, she’s excelling while I’m floundering.

  “I’m so impressed,” Maddie says, glancing around the decorated front yard.

  I want to mention that the outside pales in comparison to the inside, but providing her with the excuse to go inside has me nodding.

  “How are you, Tanner?” I ask, trying to bypass all conversation topics, specifically about the guy I don’t date who doesn’t live here.

  Tanner attempts to smile, but it’s as contrived as this conversation. Even in high school, after dating Mike for well over a year, Tanner and I never found enough common ground for any kind of friendship.

  This has me thinking about how I don’t know Paxton very well or Caleb or even Lincoln, and I begin to wonder if this is a “me” thing. Maybe I’m boring? Antisocial? Do people avoid me?

  My mind is twisting into possible scenarios, forcing Rae to carry the brunt of the conversation that I miss hearing most of.

  “It was nice to see you guys,” Rae says. “We need to check on the food and drinks. We’ll see you later.” Her fingers twine with mine and she takes a step back, pulling me with her.

  “Yeah,” Maddie says. “We totally understand. Hopefully, we’ll see you around. I’d love to meet your boyfriend, Poppy.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” Mike tags on, giving me a look that says he knows that won’t be happening.

  5

  Paxton

  This party is my very last idea of fun. Everything from the costumes to the ban on alcohol to having it at my own house contributes to making this a suckfest. Every one of my teammates is watching me tonight. I can feel their stares, waiting for me to fuck up. What makes it almost worse is they’re not waiting because they want to
reprimand me. Instead, they all want to shield me, taking their roles played on the football field and applying them to everyday life. It’s a special circle of purgatory that I’m trying to accept.

  Thankfully, I’m confident they’re about to play the curfew card and close this party down.

  “Is this really a dry party?” a short guy with spiked hair looks at me with a drawn brow. I don’t have any idea who he is.

  “In my honor,” I tell him.

  He scoffs like he knows my reputation. “I’ve got a couple of fifths in my car. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

  His invitation is tempting. The pressure of everyone’s attention and assumptions that I’ll fail feels like a giant lead ball that’s shackled to my ankle. But wearing the title of martyr is far outside my desired reach, and I know they’re watching my back to cover my own ass after I’ve fallen down a path of bad decisions and worse outcomes.

  “No, man. I’m good.”

  “If you change your mind…” He turns around and heads off in the direction of the long line of cars parked down our street. I’m hoping that the snow shoveling we did this past winter to help out several of our neighbors will buy their good graces for the night.

  “He seems really desperate for a drinking friend,” a girl on the opposite side of me says, drawing my attention. She’s dressed in a costume that barely covers her nipples. I’m pretty sure it’s stickers or maybe paint, and I’m staring hard enough to try and decipher the truth when Poppy stops in front of me.

  “Please tell me you have alcohol,” she says.

  I tear my attention from the girl with horns on her head and a devious smile to Poppy, who is currently peering over her shoulder like someone’s following her.

  The girl who looks ready to learn more than my name looks at Poppy with curiosity and competitiveness flashing across her features. “There’s a guy over there who looks more your type. He said he has alcohol in his car.” She points in the direction of where the guy had disappeared.