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

says my name with a gentle and patient tone, one he used to flex when I was feeling overwhelmed about something. When I meet his brown eyes, they’re friendly, but the familiarity is absent. I can’t read him the same way that I could—or thought I could. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

I want to remind him that we had more than a year to be friends, and he never picked up the phone, or sent an email, or did anything else, but I’m late, and this argument would likely only sound solid in my own head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now. Dylan’s sick, and my parents both have work obligations, so I’ve got to go.”

“Sister of the year award.”

I scoff. “I didn’t exactly volunteer.” I finish my text to Rae. “And I’m being a party killer because I didn’t drive.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I rode with Rae.”

He twists at the waist, so his shoulders point toward the parking lot. “I can give you a ride.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s okay. She just has to drop me off. It won’t take that long.”

“I’m already here. Come on. You’re like a fifteen-minute drive.” He nods, shoving his free hand into his pocket. A guy walks by and Mike flags him down. “Hey, you want this beer?”

To my surprise, the guy accepts it and raises it with a silent cheer. “It always shocks me how people will accept drinks from other people,” I admit.

Mike grins. “I have a trustworthy face.”

I scoff again and check my phone to see if Raegan’s replied.

“Come on,” he says.

“Maddie’s already uncomfortable. I’m not going to make it worse.”

“I’m not going to kiss you. I’m still your friend. You need to get to your parents’ house, and almost everyone here is already drunk because it’s fucking cold and really fucking boring.”

Someone trips over their own feet, like they’re trying to prove Mike’s point.

I breathe out a dozen excuses. “Why don’t you invite Maddie to go with us?”

“Are you really that uncomfortable around me?”

“I’m uncomfortable by all of this.”

“She’s with her friends. I’ll text her. It’s thirty minutes there and back, tops. I’m not going to do anything. Scout’s honor.” He holds up two fingers with a peace sign.

“That’s not how you do it.”

“Details, details.” He shakes his head. “Come on, your sister of the year award is on the line.”

I sigh, feeling the hypocrisy of the situation, and rationalizing each excuse: I didn’t invite Mike over. This wasn’t planned. He’s helping me out because of a family emergency. It’s just a ride.

I nod and follow him across the stretch of beach, the sand cold as it slips between my jeans and into my tennis shoes.

“I’m just over this way,” he says, nodding toward a sleek silver car. I follow him to the passenger door, which he opens, allowing me to slide into the car.

Mike circles the car and gets into the driver’s seat before hitting the button to start the expensive car. “Aside from babysitting duty, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to guess?”

I look across the space at him, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”

He smiles but doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I know you, Poppy.”

“Knew. Past tense.”

“Is everything okay with you and Paxton?”

“Yeah.” My answer is automatic.

“Really? Because I heard a rumor tonight…”

“You know what they say about rumors, right?”

“That they start from a kernel of the truth,” he says.

“No, I’m referring to the quote we read in Modern Political Thought,” I say, glancing at him. “Edward Counsel said ‘Rumors generally grow deformed as they travel.’”

“I heard this one firsthand.”

I have no doubt he’s going to ask about the rumor site that plagued Brighton earlier this fall. “Was it about the football team?”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have given a shit if it was about them.”

“Who was it about?” I ask, knowing his answer.

He looks at me, confirming my suspicion. It’s about me. Candace is telling people that Pax and I aren’t really dating, that it’s all fake. “What did you hear?” I dread his response already. “Do I want to know?” I cover my face with one hand. “I used to think it would be exciting for people to know who I was, but now it’s just weird.”

“That’s why so many artists have written songs and entire albums about how lonely popularity is. The more famous they become, the smaller their circle shrinks,” he says. “Never knowing who you can trust or who wants to be your friend or just use you or sell stories about you to the press…” He shakes his head. “That’s partly why I was so surprised you were dating Lawson. He’s smack dab in the middle of the spotlight, and he’s going to be traveling all of the time and having to do interviews and all of the publicity and shit that he already has that will only amplify once he’s drafted.”

I think of the girls in the elevator from this past weekend, how they were so blatant in their desire for Paxton—and right in front of me, too.

I clear my throat. “What was the rumor you heard?”

“That Paxton dated another girl for the past several years, a Candi? Carrey?” He sticks out his thumb and points toward his window. “Blond hair, medium height, kind of screams when she talks.”

“Candace.” My jaw flexes.

He snaps. “Yes.”

“That’s not really a rumor, it’s the truth.”

“Well, she seems to think they’re going to get back together.”

My head spins so fast, my neck aches.

“She seemed like his type…”

I stare at Mike, waiting for him to say more. “What does that mean?”

He glances across at me, gently smiling like he’s letting me in on a secret. “You know what I’m saying. You’ve met guys like him before.”

“Guys like what?”

“I just can’t get over the fact that you’re dating Paxton Lawson,” he says, ignoring my question.

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing, he’s Raegan’s brother. Two, you’ve never even talked about the