Best Served Fake

twelve // very mafia of you

Kai didn't respond, as if he wanted to know exactly what I had to say next. He was good at that; listening almost to the point of discomfort, lingering that tiny bit too long in the silence, when it became evident you no longer had anything to say, until the silence became too loud that you were blurting something out before you even realised it.

"I mean, of course you wouldn't want to do it," I said with a nervous laugh. "You probably think I'm insane. There are heaps of girls, like dear Marie from the park, and you don't need revenge and I'm an idiot for asking and I'm an idiot for twisting my ankle and this is all totally ridiculous—"

"I didn't realise you were a rambler," said Kai, a small smile on his lips.

I hastily closed my mouth, biting back the defensive words that I ached to spill. I gave him a small, nervous smile that did little to hide my consternation, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

Kai's technique—remaining quiet a beat longer than expected—was surprisingly effective. After a momentary pause, Kai spoke. "So, what would this scheme entail, exactly?"

Warmth suffused itself through my body, and I couldn't help the grin that pulled my lips wide. "You'll do it?" I breathed.

Kai's eyes trailed over my face, tracing a languid path along the lines of it; my wide eyes, tiny nose, every line of my heart-shaped face and the strawberry-blonde hair that fell in waves around my cheeks. I knew the expression that was on my face, innocent and hopeful. Pleading. It wasn't natural to me—I was far more accustomed to sarcastic and biting—but I'd always been described as 'cute'. Not Hollywood actress like Sydney, but 'cute'. It's because I was small, diminutive, and my eyes were wide, with long lashes that fluttered angelically.

Kai seemed to take that all in; my complete harmlessness, my frank, guileless eyes. In moments like this, I didn't mind having the same energy as Strawberry Shortcake. In moments like this, I knew he would say yes.

And if being 'cute' meant that Kai Delaney would agree to things I asked of him, and I didn't have to stumble home with my tail between my legs, I would take it.

Kai sighed and looked toward the ceiling. "You practise those puppy-dog eyes, don't you?"

I let the expression fall from my face and grin mischievously. The way he said it was an acquiescence, an acceptance. I already knew the answer when I asked, "Maybe. Do they work?"

"Too well."

I resisted the urge to dance around the room. I thought of Tommy's face when he saw me walk down the hallway with Kai's arm draped delicately over my shoulders, anger and jealousy and desperation. I knew I would revel in it, dissolute in my pursuit for revenge. The drop in my gut at the sign of his body pressed to Sydney's was tantamount to how he would feel when he saw me with this boy.

Kai seemed to sense my impending wiggle dance for joy, and interrupted before I could break out into song like we were on the set of High School Musical. "So, what is your plan, exactly?"

A frown creased my brow. "Um, we pretend to go out. Sydney and Tommy witness it, and are consumed by fiery jealousy and rage?"

"Is that as far as you got with logistics?"

"Um, yes?"

"When do you plan to initiate this? I don't know that Tommy would believe you managed to break up with him, start a flirtation with me and enter a new relationship in the space of one weekend. That would be..." Kai looked at me measuredly. "Very ambitious."

I didn't want to admit to him that I hadn't thought beyond trying to get him on board, and the prospective feeling of triumph. So, I flicked my hair over my shoulder, and said, "Of course I've... considered it. I just didn't want to make any hard and fast rules without your input. Naturally."