Fake Girlfriend

Cole stared out at the lake as he began to speak. “My mother was, as far as I can remember, always a drug user, and I hardly knew my dad,” he began. “From what I’ve heard about him, he was a decent guy with a good job who was constantly trying to help my mother with her problem. The people I’ve met you have known my dad said he was madly in love with her, which is why he tried so hard and probably why he lost it when she left…”

Cole flinched noticeably. His hands were clenched in fist resting in his lap. My hand snaked under his arm and touched one of his hands, and it loosened and held mine. “I was four when my mom left the first time. I’m sure my dad was stressed out with my mother’s behavior. They were yelling a lot, and one day, she just up and left. She drove away right in front of me without a word.” Cole breathed out, using his free hand to brush his hand back. I could tell that it was hard for him to get this all out, but I could also tell he was trying hard.

“And, like I said,” he continued. “My dad lost it. I don’t remember it well, but he wouldn’t even look at me for days. He was either bitterly silent or crying. I had to go over to the Lovette’s for my food and company because he hardly left his room. One day, though, he was up bright and early making me breakfast. He even spent the whole day with me.” He sighed. “But even though he seemed to be back to normal, that was him at his worst and most depressed. He tucked me in that night, and I fell asleep.” He stopped for a second, obviously struggling to continue. “In the middle of the night a gunshot woke me up, and I walked in on my father’s dead body. He took his own life.”

A little shocked, but more—as usual—worried, I squeezed Cole’s hand. I really had no idea what to say to make him feel better, and I felt useless. Even so, Cole smiled faintly and seemed to know what I was thinking without me saying it. “It’s okay. I was four. I hardly remember anything about him.”

But, even so, you still saw your father dead, I thought. Even if you don’t remember your dad well, that has to be traumatic for a four-year-old.

I didn’t say anything, though, as he went on. “After that, I kind of just drifted from foster home to foster home. The year I was in day care with you was when I was in my first foster home—back when I wasn’t quite over the whole ordeal. Every couple of years, I spent in a new place.” He snickered dryly. “I don’t think any of the families liked me very much, but I hardly liked them either.”

“And you didn’t have any other family that you could’ve lived with?” I asked softly.

“I’ve never heard a thing from my father’s family. I don’t know who they are, and whether they know who I am or not. My mother’s family disowned her. So, no. I didn’t,” he answered without looking at me. He shook his head. “But imagine my surprise when some social worker tells me that my mother wanted me back. After leaving me, giving up custodial rights, going off with her drugs, and whatever else she did for those 7 years, she had gone to rehab and –apparently—gotten better.

“I don’t know why I was happy, or why I even wanted to go back, but she was my mother. After years of hearing other kids talk about their mothers, I as happy that I would actually have one for once. Of course, while I was miserably spending my days wishing for a mother, she had gone off and remarried and had another child. She had a family without me. She even came back and lived in my father’s house long after he died, and I couldn’t help but feel betrayed…”

“But you love Joy,” I said with a small frown.

He chuckled, not darkly but without humor. “Not at the time I didn’t,” he said. “At the time, I couldn’t help but think that she stole my mother from me—ruining the image of the family I had always wished for. I didn’t want a sister at the time.” He smiled staring off into the lake. “Funny, though. Eventually, she became the only thing I liked about my family. My stepdad was either drinking or working, and my mother had long since started up her bad habits of drug use again. Even back then, I was the one watching over Joy. Not them.

“I mean, my mother had her moments. When she went long enough without drugs, she acted like a mother. She played with Joy and smiled and laughed with her—that’s the only part of her Joy remembers. I tried to help my mother… for Joy’s sake and for mine. I didn’t want to lose her again…” He sighed, this time squeezing my hand. “At the end of sophomore year, she left again, Joy being the same age I was when she left the first time. ‘Fool me once shame on you; fool me twice shame on me,’ I suppose.” He gripped my hand harder, and his voice became sadder and sadder. “Do you know how hard it is to be asked by your little sister why your mother left? I didn’t have any clue how to explain it to her. I still don’t. Do you know what it’s like to know your little sister is going through the same parentless-childhood I went through?”

Not even minding how hard Cole was holding my hand, I scooted closer to him and leaned my head on his shoulder. “No, I don’t,” I answered simply, “but I do know that she isn’t parent-less. Yes, her parents aren't model-figures, but she has you. And you’re doing an amazing job. You can tell just by looking at her always-smiling face. She’s happy, Cole, and it’s because of you.”

Cole let out a shaky breath, like he was on the verge of crying. Aware of this, I lifted my head to look at him. His eyes were watery and he looked miserable, but there were no tears, and I suddenly realized that I had never seen Cole cry. Ever.

“It’s hard,” he said. “Really hard. I’m always afraid I’m going to do something wrong. I always feel like I’m going to mess everything up.”

“You won’t. You can’t. Joy totally adores you,” I assured. “You couldn’t possibly do any wrong in her eyes.”

Cole used his free hand to pinch his temples, which at the same time covered his eyes. I was sure he didn’t want me to see him looking so pitiful, but I didn’t mind. I assured him of this by once again placing my head on his shoulder and rubbing the top of his hand the thumb of the one he was holding so tightly.

“Yes, I can,” he said. “To be completely honest, I’ve gotten word that my mother wants me back again. Joy, because she is Lloyd’s legitimate child, would have to go through the courts, but I’m sure if they unveiled his drinking, she’d come, too. But, even if she supposedly went through rehab again, I don’t want to go through all this again. I don’t want my mother back in our lives just for her to leave again. I don’t want Joy going through that. In one aspect, I’ll be 18 in three months, and then, I won’t need a guardian. However, I can’t leave Joy, and there’s no way I could take care of her on my own. At least right now, I have Lloyd’s money and a house. But, at the same time, I don’t want to stay there, either, because every day I’m always worrying that one day, instead of me, Lloyd will hit Joy. I’m so scared he’ll do that one day… I can’t let that happen…” It was beginning to sound like Cole was crying, but I still saw no tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

Concern weighed heavily on my heart, and even if he wasn’t going to cry, I sure felt like I was about to. “Cole…” He wasn’t looking at me. “Hey… Look at me please?” He did, slowly, with his miserable eyes. “I can’t tell you what you should do, because I don’t know either. What I do know is that whatever happens, I’m always here. I know you worry about leaning on me, but whether you do or not, I’m always going to be here for you. You’re not alone.”

Cole just quietly stared at me for a moment, and then abruptly, pulled me onto his lap into an almost-suffocating hug. He rested his cheek on the top of my head, and after getting over the quick shock, I nestled against his neck. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. We sat like that for a long time, but in his arms, I was perfectly warm and kind of… happy. Not happy about the things Cole had told me, but happy that he was holding me so tightly and that he was putting trust in me.

“Thanks,” he finally murmured very quietly.

We stayed like that until both of us were almost in a content calmness. Cole’s grip on my hand loosened quite a bit but I still sat in his lap, resting my head on his shoulder while his head was on top of mine. And we still said nothing. Cole, I think, was looking out at the lake and the lights, but I didn’t care anymore about the scenery. I closed my eyes and enjoyed being close to him.

“Cole?” I hummed, moving my head to look at him, making him move his head, too.

“Hm?” he asked, looking at me. His miserable expression had left his face, now looking much more composed and calm.

One hand rested on his shoulder, and I brought my other hand up to the back of his head, making him move closer. I leaned slightly up and our lips met, and I kissed him. Not even startled, he kissed back, again holding me close. Even in the freezing cold, in the middle of the night, I felt comfortable right where I was sitting in the snow with Cole.

Even so, I pulled away and smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, Cole,” I said softly.

He smiled back and reached out to brush the flyaway hairs from my face. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. For inviting me for Christmas. For listening to me. For letting me… lean on you. I’ve never thought I’d have someone to depend on, but I’m glad I do. And I’m gladder it’s you.” His fingers lingered at the side of my face and brushed against my skin. He then looked down at the necklace hanging over my coat and held the gold heart between his thumb and his pointer finger. “Speaking of Christmas, you still haven’t fully opened my gift.”

I looked down at the necklace. “What do you mean?” I asked.

He chuckled at me, letting go of the golden heart, affection shining in his eyes in a way I’d never seen before. “It’s a locket, silly.”

I looked at him surprise. “A locket?” I repeated. He nodded with a smile. I took the golden heart between my fingers and found the crack between the two pieces where it opened up. Curiously, I popped it open with my nail and squinted to see what was inside. Instead of a picture, on either side was a piece of paper, tucked into the slots. I froze when I read what was on it, then looked up at Cole, who was smiling ear to ear.

Be my girlfriend…

…For real this time?

“Well?” Cole said with his arms wrapped around my waist.

I turned around to look at him, beaming. He smiled back and laughed as I hugged him, nodding fiercely. When we looked at each other, we kissed again, this time for much, much longer. I might as well have been floating on air. That was how blissful I was. I wanted to hold on to this moment as long as I could. I wanted to hold on to Cole for as long as I could. Here I was kissing the guy I loved, under the full moon, with a beautiful lake reflecting it, underneath a tree with light-decorations that were breathtaking enough to join the stars in the sky. This right here could not get any better.

Except…

“Oh…” I said, pulling away guiltily.

Cole frowned at me. “What?”

I gave him a shamefaced look. “I never got you a Christmas gift. And you went to so much trouble for me…”

Cole laughed and held me closer to him. “What are you talking about? This right here is all I could ever want for a gift,” he said, kissing my forehead.

I smiled warmly at him. After all this—after everything that happened—I was wondering how I ended up with a guy as amazing as Cole. A guy that I could officially call my boyfriend. It made me blush just thinking about it. And to think I had such a bad opinion of him at the beginning of all this. Could I have ever seen myself here back then—when I became his fake girlfriend? Definitely not, but I was so glad I was.

“I love you,” I said, without a hesitation or a hint of embarrassment.

Cole gave me his infamous smirk, the one I grown to like so much without even realizing it. “How could I get any better gift than that?”

I smiled. Then, he kissed me deeply under Christmas’s starry night sky.