Fake Girlfriend

I woke up, slightly confused, as I was in a bed, and I didn’t remember falling asleep in one. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up, and the covers slid off me. I tried to rack my brain for any memory of last night. The last thing I remember was arguing with Cole over whether to go to sleep or not, so I figured I must have fallen asleep soon after that. How I got here, though, was unclear. Eventually, I stood and walked into the kitchen, where I could hear people murmuring. I looked in and saw Mike, Raul, Luke, and my father standing around the island counter drinking coffee.

“Hiya, Sleeping Beauty,” my dad—the first one to see me—said, grinning. He always was a morning person. He had a donut in his hand—his breakfast meal of choice.

“Dad, I’m sure Mom and Shelby will cook us all something when they wake up. You’re going to kill yourself eating donuts all the time,” I said.

He smacked his lips together and smiled at me. “What a delicious way to go.”

I just shook my head.

“Did you sleep good?” Raul asked me.

“Well. Did you sleep well,” Luke corrected him.

Raul rolled his eyes.

I laughed. “Yeah,” I answered.

“You couldn’t even keep your eyes opened through the movie,” Luke said, laughing a bit. “Your Mr. Prince Charming had to carry you to your room.”

I blinked. “He did?”

“Yup,” Raul said, popping the ‘p’.

I blushed slightly. That explained why I didn’t remember going to my room. Now I only hoped that I hadn’t said anything embarrassing in my sleep, as Mike said I always did.

Dad pinched my cheek with his free hand. “Aw, look how cute. You’re all red and stuff,” he teased.

I laughed and shoved him off, then took a bit of his donut. “Ha,” I said, mouth stuffed.

He snickered at me. “Pssht. I’ve got a whole box full. And you don’t get any now. So, ‘ha’ to you.” He stuck his tongue out at me.

Luke was laughing. “Oh, you’re definitely your father’s daughter,” he said to me.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” my dad asked. He took a bite out of the donut with a grin. “I think that was an insult. Just for that, Lucian, you don’t get any donuts neither.”

“Either,” Luke corrected. “’You don’t get one either’.”

“Do I get a donut?” Raul asked.

“Nope,” Dad said.

“Why not?”

He pointed at Luke. “He’s your partner, and he’s giving me an attitude.”

Luke cracked up, leaning up against the counter next to Raul so that he didn’t fall over laughing. “Attitude?”

I was smiling in the background, enjoying the family banter. It was nice to see everyone so happy in the morning. Not to mention, it was even better to see how much my father had changed on his opinion of Luke and Raul’s relationship. When he first found out, he was uncomfortable mentioning anything near the topic of their “partnership”. When they moved to Maryland, I remembered him still being a little uncomfortable with the two. He seemed fine now, though, which was good.

I peered around my father who had just finished off the donut in his hand, noticing Mike, also watching the banter. He sat on the counter near the sink behind my dad. In his lap was a box labeled in bright letters “Dunkin’ Donuts”—as well as a lot of sprinkles and crumbs. He gave me a cheeky look and shoved the rest of the donut in his hand into his mouth, and then set the box down behind him and brushed off the crumbs. No one even noticed which made me laugh.

Mike swallowed and made sure there were no crumbs on his face before he spoke. “You guys,” he said. “You’re going to wake up everyone.”

“Too late,” my mother said, walking into the room, followed by the three groggy triplets who were still waking up. Behind them was Nico, holding Regina’s hand and leading her into the kitchen. She was rubbing her eyes.

Dad chuckled. “Sorry, darling.”

She just smiled and shook her head. “You’ve woken everyone on the first floor,” she said.

I made a mental note that the people who had been sleeping on the first floor were me and my parents in one room, and Nico and Regina in the other. I guessed that the triplets got up on their own, because their room was on the second floor with their parents, and the office where Mike slept. Cole and Joy slept in the basement.

My mother looked my father and narrowed her eyes. “And stop eating those donuts. I am going to cook, you know,” she said.

“Told you!” I hummed to my dad.

“I didn’t eat any donuts, darling,” my dad tried to assure.

My mother laughed, walked up to her husband, and brushed the powdered sugar off her husband’s cheek. “Oh really?” she said, amused.

“Darn,” Dad said, rubbing the rest of the sugar off his face. He grinned like a little kid. “Okay. No more.”

“Good,” my mother said. “That goes for you too, Michael.” She smirked at Mike.

In return, he gave her his most innocent look. “Huh?”

“No more donuts,” Mom said, slower.

“How do you know I had one?” he answered, hopping from the counter. Dad, Nico, and Raul laughed, as if it was obvious.

My mother opened the fridge and observed the contents. “Oh please, I’ve known you for 23 years, Mikey. I know you.” She grinned and looked at him. “Baby Brother always loved his sweets.” Mike laughed and scratched his head. “Anyways, could you guys go wake everyone else up? I’m going to make some breakfast,” she continued. “It’s Christmas Eve; after all, everyone should be up. It’s almost ten.”

“I’ll wake Josh and Shel,” Dad said.

“I’ll get Cole and Joy,” I offered, rather quickly.

Mike snickered, like something was funny, but I didn’t pay attention to him. I walked downstairs to the basement and flipped on the light switch, figuring that would wake them up, but when I looked around the corner at the pull-out bed they were sleeping on, I realized it hadn’t. I smiled as I walked up closer to them. Joy was cuddled at Cole’s side using his sprawled arm as a pillow, despite the fact that she had a pillow just above her head. She had a peaceful smile, and Cole looked so calm. I didn’t remember ever seeing him so clear-headed looking—like nothing was on his mind for once. He shifted slightly and I giggled, because he started to snore.

“Cole,” I said softly. “Wakie, wakie.”

The minute I touched his shoulder, his eyes shot open, and his hand tightly gripped the arm I touched him with. His other arm—the one his sister used as a pillow—curled protectively around joy, waking her up as well. He growled at me, and I recoiled, frightened. Tears sprung instantly to my eyes, because I knew why he did that so instinctively. It was because of his stepdad.

When Cole recognized me, his eyes immediately became apologetic. “Thisbe?”

I hoped he didn’t notice the tears. “Hey,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “My mother is making breakfast, so we thought we should wake you up.”

I could see on his face that despite my effort he saw that I was upset. He frowned, but momentarily put it aside. He smirked at his sister. “Hear that, Joy? How about you go upstairs for some grub.”

“Grubs are bugs, and bugs are gross,” Joy said matter-of-factly, still a little groggy.

He chuckled. “I mean food. Go on, now.”

Joy giggled and hopped up. “Kay!” she said, and climbed the stairs without looking back.

As soon as she was gone, Cole’s light attitude vanished, and a frown replaced it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was an instinct. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I answered, lightly touching my wrist.

He sat up, slightly worried. “Then why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” I blinked my tears away.

Now, he was standing. “Thisbe, stop that.”

“What?” I tried to hold the tears in, but I couldn’t. I found myself wondering how bad Cole’s home life was that he even had to be paranoid in his sleep about it. How many times was he punched in his sleep before he developed a reflex like that? Did he ever get critically hurt by his stepdad?

Cole came up to me, his arm barely touching my arm, like he was afraid to. He was frowning. “Please don’t do that, Thisbe. I don’t want to ruin your Christmas. Don’t cry for me. Don’t worry about me.”

Well, someone had to worry about him. How did he keep his cool all the time? Besides the incident yesterday, he was always that cocky, nonchalant Cole Ramsey he always was. No one would be ever able to tell there was something wrong, which scared me more than if he actually acted like there was something wrong. Not to mention he never tells me what’s bothering him. He locks himself up inside. It scares me. Didn’t it scare him to lock himself out from the world? Didn’t it scare him to be alone with all that on his shoulders? I was crying now. I couldn’t help it.

“How can I not worry, Cole?” I said. “You never tell me anything. You’re always hiding your pain from everyone. Do you just plan to let all that weight on your shoulders crush you? There are people who want to help you, Cole. Like me.”

“I’m fine,” he said. He brushed my tears away casually with his thumb and managed a smirk. “Trust me, if I told you everything on mind, you’d just worry more.”

I sniffed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Sorry, I’m just saying. It would.” He was beginning to act casual and nonchalant again, meaning he was trying to build a barrier against me, like he did with everyone. His smirk became cocky again. At that point, I was sure he was totally locked down again. “I’m sorry if I worried you yesterday. I know you’re just trying to be a good friend, but I can handle it. Okay?” He brushed the hair away from my face.

Friend? Why did that seem like such the wrong word to use? It made me flinched. Then, what was the right word? For the longest time it had just been fake couple, but since this all started, something had changed. Somewhere along the way the line between fake and real disappeared. And “friend” wasn’t the way to describe where we were now.

Not by a long shot.

“Come on,” Cole said. He began walking towards the stairs. “Your Mom is probably finished with breakfast.”

I bit my lip. “Cole, wait.”

He turned as I walked up to him, grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, and kissed him. I should have been used to all the confusing kisses by now, but really, I was more confused than ever. My body was pretty much working on its own. My brain wasn’t processing anything. When I let go, Cole was wide eyed and surprised. One side of me thought that I may have broken down those newly built walls hiding his emotions, and the other side thought that this had to be the worst time to do something like this.

Cole blinked. “Thisbe… I…You…W—“

I held my hand up, shutting him up. I was totally beat red and embarrassed. “I… Almost forgot. Happy Christmas Eve,” I tried to say casually. It just came out shaky and unsteady. Cole blinked at me again, still shocked. He opened his mouth to say something, but I dashed up the stairs ahead of him, embarrassed, before he could say it.

I must have looked like such a moron.