Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone by Mariah Dietz (classic english novels .TXT) 📕

to the table again. “You always look so nice. You could probably design clothes or be like a professional stylist or something. I’m completely talking out of my ass here because I have no idea what any of this stuff is called.”

Dominic comes by with a rag in his hand, cleaning off the table behind us. “A jock studying. I never thought I’d see the day.” He flashes a teasing smile.

Paxton laughs in return, his gaze friendly and shoulders relaxed as Dominic continues to a table near the soda fountain machine and clears it.

“Do you get tired of jock jokes?” I ask.

Amusement lifts his brow. “Dominic?” He shakes his head. “He’s the epitome of a snowboarder and gets the same labels and stereotype shit, so I know he’s just busting my balls.”

“What about from others?”

Pax taps the tabletop with his fingertips, his nails so short they don’t hit the surface. “Sometimes, I guess. But those just motivate me and lead me to fake dating my little sister’s best friend.” He winks at me.

I lean back, gaining a little distance and hopefully a little perspective.

“What happened between you and Mike?” he asks before I can find my footing.

“We broke up because he was going to Arkansas, and I was staying here.”

“But why? You guys didn’t want to try out a long-distance relationship? One of you liked someone else? They don’t have planes that land in Arkansas?”

“It was my idea,” I tell him.

It wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Why?”

“Because most couples don’t make it if they go to separate schools. Heck, most couples don’t make it even if they go to the same school.”

“So, it was like a preemptive breakup?”

I nod. “Exactly.”

“Can I bring up again how surprised I am that you haven’t declared a major?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for it to happen the way that it did…” The words come out before I can stop them, and if I didn’t already have his full attention, I know I would now.

“What does that mean?”

I slump in my seat. “It means that this is embarrassing, and we’re going to pretend I didn’t say that and start talking about your classes and where you’re behind.”

He shakes his head in swift motions. “What did you mean to have happened?”

I place my hands on both sides of my heated cheeks. “This is embarrassing.”

“You didn’t want to break up?”

I shake my head. “I mean, we’d talked about it. Heck, even my mom talked about it with us.”

“Your mom?”

“Psychologists have no boundaries.”

He winces.

I nod. “Basically.” I close my eyes, so I don’t have to see the judgment in his when I admit the childish truth that paved the path to my first heartache. “We knew that the odds weren’t in our favor and that the more mature and logical step was to break up, and so we did. I just didn’t expect him to actually be so okay with it. I thought he’d suggest we try long-distance, assure me he’d be home at Christmas and spring break and that we could do video chats. And instead, he kissed me on the forehead and told me we’d always be friends. We basically experienced the opposite breakup as you and Candace. We never called or texted or even touched base through social media.”

“Wow. That’s…”

I grab my pen and meet his stare, ready for his verdict.

“What an asshole.”

“I was no better. I should have been honest about my feelings. I should have told him that I wanted to try and make things work and told him I believed in us. He definitely doesn’t deserve the blame.”

“Maybe not all of it, but some of it. You guys dated for two years.”

“We’d also been talking about the distance and our plans if we weren’t accepted to the same school for the last six months of our relationship.”

Another grimace. “Do you think he knew you didn’t mean it? I mean, you guys had been together for that long … didn’t you ever discuss the possibility of staying together?”

Paxton’s questions awaken a doubt that lives too close to the surface of my thoughts, one that says Mike did know and took the easy opportunity that was presented. That he wasn’t worried about an ugly breakup or heartache because he was ready to break up. This doubt has left a residual effect, a wrecking ball to my confidence.

“I don’t know.”

Paxton’s blue gaze blazes into mine, filled with compassion and questions that I know he’s holding back because my answers are becoming shorter as my discomfort grows. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could time travel and see how our decisions might impact our future? Candace and I are so toxic together, but there was something that always brought us back together. I never knew if it was a sense of indebtedness or loyalty or if it was just her.”

“Is it easier to tell now that you guys have been broken up for a few weeks?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you miss her?”

He pulls his shoulders back as though making himself less vulnerable. “Maybe?”

I expect his answer, and yet, as the word repeats in my thoughts, a trace of bitterness hits my chest where it immediately embeds itself.

“This is why our setup is so good. I could never sit down and have an honest conversation like this with Candace—I couldn’t with any girl I was dating. It’s like everyone wants you to be honest, but there’s this giant caveat that you’re not supposed to be honest about past relationships or breakups or topics you disagree on. Like you meet, and you’re supposed to realize nothing mattered up until that moment, which is bullshit.”

I nod. “Exactly. And I don’t have to pretend not to hate watching you play video games or like I don’t eat more than most guys.” I take another bite of my pizza.

Pax chuckles. “But even better because we’re friends and care about each other, and we’re not trying to fuck the other person over.”

I nod as I finish chewing. “Exactly. Friends.”

15

Paxton

“Hey, Poppy,” Caleb says as