I'll Be Your Girl

I wake up before Nick the following morning. I’ve kind of gotten into this routine where I go jogging every morning, so my body clock knows to wake me up early. Early enough so that I can move about without waking anyone else, as they’re still deep in their sleeping states.

So of course I almost scream from shock when Nick sits up just as I’m pulling on my sweatpants. He gapes at me as I crash to the floor, my legs in a tangle and my arms flailing.

“You’re awake?” we both ask each other simultaneously. I hesitate, and Nick watches me expectantly.

“I always wake up early,” I tell him, getting back on my feet and pulling my pants up properly this time, ignoring the way he averts his eyes; honestly, they’re only legs.

“No you don’t,” he counters, rolling out of bed and pushing a hand through his curls, which have been messed up from sleep. “I mean, you used to sleep ‘til like, noon.”

I shrug and stare at the carpet. “I used to be fat, too,” I mutter, grabbing a hair tie and pulling my hair into a messy ponytail. Nick makes a noise of protest, but stops when I cock a challenging eyebrow at him. Of course he’s never had a care about how much I weigh, he’s my best friend. But the girls at school judged me harshly and last year, I got sick of it. So here I am now: healthy, happy, and still not friends with those girls. But at least now it’s me shunning them, not the other way around.

I begin to head for the door. “Where are you going?” Nick asks me.

“Jogging.”

“Hang on, I’m coming,” he says, already pulling his own sweatpants out of his closet.

-

Everyone else in the house is only just waking up by the time we get back, me breathless and Nick grinning smugly. “Yeah well, not everyone gets to stay fit by jumping around onstage every night,” I mumble as Nick pours us both a glass of water. We both go and collapse on the couches in the living room, where Joe’s already made himself comfortable, still in his PJs with his MacBook on his lap. He greets us with a barely audible “morning” as we come in - he’s obviously still half-asleep.

Denise passes through the doorway shortly after that. “I vote we go out for breakfast. I’m way too tired to cook anything,” she says through a yawn.

I begin to nod enthusiastically, thinking of the place down the street that does the best waffles I’ve ever tasted. At least, I hope they still do them. It’s been ages since I’ve stayed at the Jonases’ and otherwise, I don’t really visit this part of town much. My mother has nowhere near that kind of income and I don’t make it a habit to randomly wander around the rich neighbourhoods.

“What’s up Joe?” Nick asks from beside me. Apparently neither of the guys are thinking about breakfast (which is super weird, because they’re guys), judging by the way Joe’s kind of gaping at his computer screen.

“See for yourself.” He turns his laptop so we can all have a look. On the screen are a collection of photos, uploaded from the night before, showing Nick and I hugging, then getting into the black SUV together. The title reads ‘Nick Jonas’ rendezvous with his New Jersey girlfriend’, followed by an article mocking him, saying that they ‘hope his parents know he’s alone with a girl’.

Denise’s nose wrinkles with distaste. “Oh please,” she sighs irritably, crossing her arms and striding into the kitchen. Next to me, Nick’s looking sullen as he clenches his fists on his lap. What’s the big deal? Okay sure, that’s a serious breach of his privacy, but nobody got hurt. The media can be dicks, but nobody takes them seriously.

“Cool it Nick, it’s nothing,” I tell him, leaning into his side as I stroke my fingers across his whitened knuckles. He doesn’t relax.

“They’re always stalking us. Can’t they just give it a break for like, two seconds?” he says through gritted teeth, standing up and actually beginning to pace around the room. “Jeez, Rem. I’m so sorry. The paparazzi are total--”

“Language, Nicholas!” Denise calls from the kitchen, and Nick presses his lips into a thin line.

I just roll my eyes, grab his wrist, and pull him back down onto the couch. “Chill dude. I honestly don’t care!”

“No Remy, you don’t get it. Now that these photos are up, people are going to want to know who you are. They’ll--”

“They’ll what?” I interrupt him. “Look at my MySpace page? I don’t give a--”

“Language, Remy!”

“Sorry Denise. But seriously Nick, it’s not a big deal. I can handle a bunch of desperados with cameras glued to their fingers. They were just looking for a story and we were their flavour of the day. It’s all a complete joke and you know what? I could put up with their bull any time,” I say defiantly, but Nick still doesn’t look too pleased.

Joe snorts. “You really think that, huh? I bet you couldn’t handle being labelled Nick Jonas’ new girlfriend for more than a week. Could you deal with that, Remy? With the press researching every detail of your life and the fans demanding to know more… It’s not as easy as Danielle makes it look, you know.”

I purse my lips. “Is that a challenge, Joseph?” I question, cocking an eyebrow at him. I could totally take that on, and in the meantime show them that the paparazzi aren’t such a threat. It’d be a great little experience.

“Uh, guys…” Nick says uneasily, but we ignore him.

Joe’s smirking now, and he sets his MacBook aside so that he can come and sit next to me. “Yes, yes I believe it is a challenge,” he says slyly, his dark eyes glinting.

“What’s your wager?”

His expression turns thoughtful, and he taps a finger against his chin as he considers it. This should be amusing. What could a boy who has everything possibly want from me? “Hmm. Oh, I know! If I win, you have to do anything I want in our next YouTube video,” he says excitedly, snapping his fingers and pointing at me.

“Easy,” I shoot back. “And if I win, you guys have to take me on your next European tour. All expenses paid.”

“You got it. Now let’s make this official.” Joe puts out his hand, and I grip it tightly.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Nick attempts, but I place my free hand over his mouth.

“Silence, Nicholas.”

Joe winks at his brother. “Do as you’re told, kid.” He strengthens his grasp on my hand, but I don’t pull back. “Alright here we go. I, Joseph Adam Jonas, bet that you, Remy Bianca Holloway, will not last a week as Nicholas Jerry Jonas’ fake girlfriend. Do you accept?”

I grin and nod. “Yep.”

“Excellent. Now shake on it.” We both shake our hands, then let go. Joe grins at his brother. “Nick, meet your new girlfriend!”

Nick sighs and shakes his head at me. “You are so going to regret this.”