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

“I might need to buy some long underwear and a second coat for tomorrow’s game,” Raegan says as we make our way into the mall, where a display for Santa and a giant tree are set up.

My phone beeps with a text as we head up the escalators. Rae glances at me as I read the message that has my thoughts swirling. “Is that Pax?”

I shake my head. “Mike.”

“Mike’s messaging you?”

“He hasn’t been.”

“What does it say?”

“It’s a link.”

“To what?”

I shake my head, waiting for it to load. “A song,” I say as it pulls up a music video.

“A song?” There’s an edge of disbelief in her voice, likely because she knows Mike and I communicated with song lyrics long before we said words like, love, or dating. “What song?”

I release a long breath. “I don’t know.” I toss my phone into my purse. “I don’t want to know,” I admit. “He’s still dating Maddie.”

Rae listens to the words I’m not saying, contradicting thoughts and feelings that have been following me around for the past month. “I know you guys have a long history,” she says, her voice gentle. “I’m not condemning you for liking him. I know what it’s like to care about someone and still feel confused and conflicted.”

I’m silent, my thoughts torn, unable to explain that my hesitance is largely because the “someone” I picture in my head is Paxton.

“I’m not even sure it’s real,” I tell her, shocked by how the statement applies to both Mike and Pax.

“What do you mean?”

“Mike wasn’t even interested in trying a long-distance relationship,” I tell her. “He never reached out to me in the entire year and a half he was gone.”

Raegan’s gaze slowly tracks between mine, attempting to read between the lines again because while I tell my best friend nearly everything, admitting to her that I’d tried to be a grownup about my feelings while still feeling like an adolescent and it all blew up in my face and led to my summer of heartbreak is still difficult. “Poppy, I know you cared about Mike. I don’t doubt that for a single second. You guys shared a connection and relationship that was built on friendship and respect, but when you close your eyes and imagine kissing someone—kissing them now, and in a year, and in twenty years—is it Mike that you see?”

I shake my head.

Her smile is as gentle as her tone. “Our memories of a person can sometimes be better than the reality. You and Mike were a good couple. He was a great first boyfriend because he was kind and thoughtful, and he genuinely cared about you, but you never once considered going to Arkansas. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think your breakup hurt because you lost a close friend when Mike moved, but I don’t think Mike ever owned your heart.”

I want her to be right. I think she’s right. I really want her to be right. But still I ask, “How do I know for sure?”

“Because you stayed. Because you kept moving and you forgot about him until he returned. Because you and Paxton have hotter kisses than you and Mike did.”

“Mike always hated PDA.”

“Which is fine, but there’s something about not caring what others think and kissing someone that is freeing and intimate and sexy. There are times when Lincoln kisses me, and I forget everything. Nothing matters in those moments. The world could be ending and I wouldn’t notice. If you can say that kissing Mike felt like that, then you should, by all means, follow your heart, but if you don’t feel that flame of desire and excitement when you hear his name or think about him, then you know. Dating Pax has introduced you to lots of circles. Guys have always noticed you, and now you’re starting to notice them noticing you. I don’t want you to feel like Mike is your only option.”

I don’t respond right away, taking a moment to let her words and the meaning behind them sink in.

“Want to go to the food court? We can order from a few different places and eat family style,” I suggest, not wanting to ponder why those particular words are the ones that stick with me and what weight and merit they might carry.

Rae grins. “Let’s go.” We turn toward the food court, which is mostly barren due to the hour. “I have to say, I wasn’t a huge fan of your arrangement with Pax, but I was wrong. You guys are making this work, and I’m shocked how much he’s changed.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re definitely doing something.”

“Really, I’m not. He’s probably helped me with school more than I’ve helped him. This is all him and his motivation for the draft that is keeping him in line.”

“How much longer do you guys think you’ll continue the ruse?” she asks. “I mean, if you have what you want and he’s figured his stuff out…”

The question becomes a volcano, an eruption of thoughts and questions to which I don’t have answers. I’ve been skating around the same question. “I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, I think it makes sense to continue a little longer.”

She nods, but I see the silent questions in her glance that I interrupt by pointing at a macaroni and cheese restaurant. “Smoked bacon mac n’ cheese,” I say, reading off the menu. “Hello, deliciousness.”

“Oh, that does sound good. Want to do that and some Chinese food?”

“I never say no to Chinese food.”

She grins. “Do you know what you want?”

“Surprise me,” I tell her.

Her grin grows. “I’ll get the drinks, too.” She turns toward the restaurant, leaving me to my thoughts while I wait in the short line.

The conversation about Mike and Pax and timelines fade as we bring our trays to an empty table and share food family style. She fills me in on how things are going at the aquarium and news of a new baby orca being born to one