Just Fake It

CH3 : Like A Marshmallow

"Woah." Chace says when he opens the door. It's always Jake who greets us, but it's Chace this time.

I wonder who his statement is for until I realize his expression is aimed at me. I watch him shake his head until the dumbfounded expression he had a few seconds ago is completely wiped off.

Was that 'woah' directed at how I look? I'm starting to feel kind of flattered once he lets us into the house until he uses his mouth again.

"Working the corner tonight, Jacey?" Chace's tone is completely casual, like it's an everyday thing he just insinuated. I whip around so fast he never sees the elbow I aim at his gut coming. Feeling like a winner, I pick up the pace behind Mike. Chace grunts from somewhere behind me, as I resist the urge to rub my elbow. I wonder if he's hiding a slab of wood under his t-shirt or something because no way was his stomach that hard.

Jake finally makes an appearance. The two guys hug and do their typical lovey dovey stuff. It's been almost three years of them being together, and they're still as into each other as they were that first night I sucked Mike's face off.

Chace is still smoothing his hands over his belly where my elbow made contact. He's got a Legend of Zelda t-shirt on and the more he touches his stomach the more Link's face gets contorted.

"Quit rubbing yourself, you big baby." I say with an eye roll. Jake and Mike share a weird look towards me, but I ignore them. Then I realize it's because it just sounded like I told Chace to quit rubbing himself, as in...well you know. I expect Chace to give me a sarcastic retort back but when I turn to look at him his face has turned red and he keeps looking down at the ground.

Maybe he's actually taking my advise to heart?

Gross.

It's kind of surprising when Mike asks Jake if he's ready to go. I want to ask him if he's really thinking of taking Jake with us, but I don't want to be rude and what's the big deal really? People will probably think he's just a friend. It's not the first time Jake and Mike are seen at a party together, but we've never actually driven anywhere as a group in the last three years.

Chace stares at us for a moment before making his way over to the living room. I spot him firing up the console and I kind of feel like ditching our plans and playing, which is totally weird because I've been itching to go out all week. I resist the urge to join him for some weird reason, and focus on following the rest of the guys out the door. Jake yells goodbye to his brother, before Mike and I do the same.

We all walk out in semi-awkwardness. When we reach Mike's car the awkward feelings go up a notch because none of us really know where to go. I wonder if I should ride in the backseat but that would look weird even though Jake obviously belongs in the front more than I do. I end up getting shotgun after a few tense moments. No one's speaks as Mike pulls out of his parking space and starts to drive.

I crank up the radio a notch because the awkward feelings are really starting to get to me. A Lady Gaga song starts blasting through Mike's speakers and the boys instantly hit the chorus. It's not long before I join them and we're all singing at the top of our lungs. Our bad singing makes the ride short, but the pulsing rap song being emitted from the mansion in front of us serves to drone the last notes of our song out.

I practically spring out of the car when it comes to a stop. I'm done third wheeling it for the night. With that thought I push through the throng of people milling outside. Right when I pass the threshold Mila swings a tan arm around my shoulders. I'm wearing my shortest mini dress with thigh high boots, but my outfit has got nothing on Mila's bra top and shorts.

The girl has the flattest stomach that you can't even hate her for it. The fact that she's a backstabber is reason enough, though. Mila is supposed to be my best girlfriend, my wingman, but really she's just the girl I hang out with at parties. We never talk outside of a club or a house party and that's fine by the both of us.