FAUX REAL

27

Oasis blares through my headphones as I tap my pen against my history textbook, ingraining the beat into my brain. I can't believe the band agreed to this, I was sure they'd think it was too mellow, and quite frankly a tad cheesy to perform at Battle of the Bands. And if I'm being honest, I can't believe I even suggested it.

But it's her favorite. It's her song. And I know she'll lose her shit when she hears us playing it. That's what I want. I want her to lose her shit. I want her to let go. Just once. I want her to tune out the world, the static, all the bloody voices that are illegally squatting in her big brain.

It seems exhausting, her life. Not that mine is any better. Silence is not a remedy for noise. But she needs some silence, an escape, a mute button. Just for one night, I could maybe be that for her. An oasis. She's been one for me recently. She really has.

Fuck sakes.

I close my eyes, rubbing the sore tear ducts as I sigh. This is bad. Or maybe it's good. I don't know yet. I don't know because she's been ignoring me all week. But I will know soon. In two days. Just forty-eight hours. I can wait.

She's worth the wait.

I hope.

"What's up, London?!" A dainty yet surprisingly firm hand smacks me across the shoulder blade and I perk up, turning my head towards Rosé's voice. "Doing a little studying, are we?"

"Trying," I grunt as she pulls up a seat next to me and places two coffees and two muffins on the student lounge table. I raise a brow and reach for the to-go cup. "You bought me a coffee? Awe, you shouldn't have."

"Back off," she swats my hand away with a frown. "Not for you."

I roll my eyes. "Two coffees isn't going to magically make you understand world history, you know?"

"Oh, shut it" she clicks her tongue as she pulls out her phone, unbothered as always. "It's not for me, it's for lisa."

I sit up straight. "You've talked to her? How- how is she?"

"Girl..." she snorts, cocking her head, a knowing grin on her face.

"What?" I ask, trying to relax my posture, unsuccessfully. "I'm just curious is all. She's been a ghost all week."

"A ghost?" she hums, pursing her lips. "As in she's uh- ghosting you?"

I stiffen.

"Oh, chill, I'm just joking," she laughs, fist-pumping my arm. "She gets like this when exams roll around. She'll come up for air at some point." She checks her watch. "In twenty seconds to be exact."

"Are you her secretary or something?" I grumble, scanning the entrance of the lounge. "Privy to her private schedule?"

"No, I'm her best friend," she says. "Know her well. She's never late." She pauses, letting out a chuckle. "Although, I've never showered with her so you got a leg up on me there."

I whip my head towards her so fast that I pull a muscle. Fuck. "What?"

"It's all over Hilton Hears," she explains, shoving her phone in my face. "See? Your little sexcapades are all over the school."

I blink, reading the blast.

Hilton Hears that Golden girl is truly an environmentalist. While some of us try to save the planet by using paper straws, she goes above and beyond by showering with her mail-order girlfriend. For an act that's supposed to be so clean, why does it feel so dirty?