Fake Girlfriend

Cole didn’t come back in right away, which was fine with me. If he wanted to blow off any more steam, it wasn’t going to be at me. Why was he so angry, anyways? I sighed, composing myself before turning the corner into the kitchen. Delilah was now crying in John’s embrace. That was probably partially the hormones fault, but more than half my own fault. I made a little cough noise, and the two looked at me.

Delilah’s teary eyes were a little surprise. “Thisbe, I should’ve told you earlier,” she said, her words coming out so quick they were meshing together. “You should’ve been the first to know. I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry—“

I held my hand up, and she went quiet. It added salt to my wound to know that Cole was 100% right. Delilah was afraid of losing me. I hated when he was right. And at the moment, I hated him. Again. I sighed, but that wasn’t the primary issue right now.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m really sorry.”

More tears fell down Delilah’s cheeks, and she quickly let go of John and hugged me. She just cried for a little bit, not stopping hugging me. “John?” she whined after a little bit, still with her arms around me tightly.

“Hm?” he said.

She sniffed. “Make me another cheese burrito?”

He laughed. “As you wish.”

“It’s not funny!” she hissed, suddenly angry.

I laughed, too. How was I supposed to stay angry at a hormonally unstable girl who would not let go of me and had a sudden pregnancy craving for cheese burritos? She glared at John, and finally let me go. She crossed her arms. “What’s so funny that the two of you are laughing?” she asked, irritated.

I bit my lip, trying to hold the laughter.

“Nothing,” John answered, though he was still laughing.

“Stop!” Delilah told him.

He leaned his head against the fridge, laughing hard. “I can’t,” he breathed. “You’re just such a crack-up, De.”

“I’m not a crack-head!” she shrieked.

I was glad to see John was laughing. For the past week, he wouldn’t even look at me more than he had to. He didn’t smile all that often, either. It was good to see him howling in laughter now. It was good to see us all together, like old times. Eventually, De started to laugh, too; I’m not sure she even knew why, but it made me laugh harder, too.

When we all calmed down, it got quiet enough that I heard the back door open and close, and Cole’s footsteps as he came briefly in the kitchen with a dull expression. He scratched head. “I remembered there’s somewhere I have to be. Sorry, but I got to go.” I glared. Lies. “John, would it be alright if you gave Thisbe a ride home? We sort of came together.”

John frowned. “Yeah. No problem.”

Delilah pouted. “Aw, Cole. You’re leaving? Don’t you want a cheese burrito?” she asked.

He gave a small smile and snickered. “I’ll pass. Thanks, though.” He started to walked towards the front door, meeting my eyes for a second. My eyes narrowed, noticing something. I walked up to him quickly, and grabbed his chin with my hand. And not very gently either. Cole’s eyes widened, and he tried to move his head away. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, with a growl.

I titled his head to the right, so I could see his jaw line. I had no idea how I missed it before, but there was a huge nasty bruise right under the left side of his jawline. It was one of those bruise that was five different colors. Those real bad ones. I tapped it with my thumb, and he flinched.

“Stop,” he hissed.

While I was looking at it, something else caught my eye. I saw small red scratch running down the front of his shoulder almost where his shirt covered it all, but not quite. I frowned, pulling the neck of the shirt down a bit with my free hand to see the full gash. It didn’t seem as bad as the bruise.

“Good God. What in the world did you do?” I asked, brows furrowed. “Get in a fist fight or something?”

He pulled the hand holding his chin away by my wrist, and he pushed the one holding his collar back. “It’s nothing,” he said, but from the way he said it, it was definitely something. And if it was enough for him to lose his usual nonchalant attitude, it was definitely something big. He gritted his teeth, suddenly losing his composure. “I’m leaving.” He turned and walked right out the door.

I crossed my arms and glared. Erg, that guy did nothing but piss me off. I hated him! I didn’t even care about that bruise or that gash, anyways! He could get into as many fights as he wanted. Why should I care? He certainly didn’t care about my well-being. I mean, the guy totally yelled at me outside. In fact, I had been a little scared. When had Cole ever yelled at me before? I didn’t remember any time when he did, and nothing had made me get that hallow feeling inside quite like that had.

I turned back to my friends, who were watching with worried faces. “Well, what was that about?” Delilah asked. “He doesn’t seem very happy.”

“He’s never very happy,” I mumbled, frustrated.

Delilah frowned. “Oh. Okay?”

John seemed worried, too. “Thisbe, it’s fine if you need to go after him. We’ll be okay here.”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” I said, unfeelingly. Like hell I would chase after him anyways, I wanted to say, but I had to remember that we were technically “dating” at the moment. Ugh. I hated my life sometimes.

“If you say so,” John said, pulling a cheese burrito from the microwave. Delilah took it gratefully, biting into it immediately. “Uh, it’s hot,” John warned a little too late. De almost spit it out on the floor. Instead, she just bounced up and down, fanning her mouth with her hands, as if it would do anything.

“Sorry!” John said, laughing.

***

As painful as it was to know my best friend didn’t tell me that she was pregnant first, I got over it quickly. I hated to admit it, but Cole was right when he said that that wasn’t the most important issue right now. Supporting Delilah was. She needed a girl. She needed her best friend. She needed me. But, damn, Cole still didn’t have to yell at me about it. I wasn’t mad at De anymore. I was mad at Cole, which was ironic. I mean, I was always mad at Cole, so it wasn’t really that surprising. But how was I supposed to be mad at De?

She, John, and I were all sitting on De’s couch just talking. We hadn’t been talking about De’s pregnancy at first, but eventually, it came back to that. “De,” I said, “do your parents know yet?”

Delilah frowned. “No.”

“They’ll find out eventually,” I said.

“I know.” She looked at her feet. “I’ll tell them… just not now.”

I nodded. And there was an awkward pause. “What do you think you’re going to do? About the baby, I mean,” I asked after a while. John was nervously rubbing his hands together. This entire conversation was probably uncomfortable for him.

Delilah frowned, and her brow furrowed. She probably hadn’t thought much about this. “Well abortion is a big ‘no’, and I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that anyways. And I’m not too thrilled about adoption, because it’s scary to think where the baby would end up with then…”

I blinked. “So you want to keep it?”

She groaned. “I don’t know…”

John stayed quiet.

“Well, you’ve got to decide eventually, you know,” I said.

She frowned. “I know… John, do you think there’s any cheese sticks left in the fridge.”

I rubbed my forehead, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t focus on something for more than ten minutes can you?”

She pouted. “You know I have ADD, and I want cheese!” she said.

I stood. “I’ll get it,” I said, laughing.

“Love you!!” Delilah called after me.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” I chuckled.