“Poppy took the ‘news’ rather well,” I told Chase as we walked away from where Poppy stood.
“Why wouldn’t she have?” he asked.
“Because we’ve been ‘dating’ for a week and I didn’t tell her! Keep up!” I scolded him. I looked around and saw all of the people who raised their eyebrows at us as they passed. “I don’t think they believe it,” I mumbled under my breath.
“There’s one way to make them all believe it,” he replied and leant down to whisper it in my ear.
I pushed him away and whacked him in random spots on his shoulder. “Don’t even joke about that!” I shrieked.
“Oh come on Chas, you know I’m only kidding,” he laughed and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I swear if you try anything, I will tell everybody about those girls that beat you up at the dance studio last year,” I threatened.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, not truly believing it.
“Oh but imagine the faces, after all not many guys get beat up by girls and shout ‘I’m a ballerina’ at the top of their lungs,” I countered.
“Chas, I know you, you wouldn’t do that kind of thing,” he sighed.
“Oh really try me,” I threatened.
“Even if you did tell everyone, they’d all forget about it in an instant, you know why?” he replied as a smug grin played on his face.
“Why?” I asked, confused by his seemingly upper hand.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Because they’d all be more preoccupied about,” he paused for dramatic effect, “you lying about having a boyfriend.” Suddenly, the conversation had switched to me being mad at him, instead of the other way around. Not that he was really mad at me, sure he would ignore me for a few days, but he never truly got mad at me.
“You- ” I almost said that he wouldn’t, but knowing Chase, he would have if it were necessary. Instead, I settled with, “you’d better not.”
“And what exactly would you do if I did?” he countered again. I noticed how, uncomfortably close, our two faces were, and I felt the blush as it crept across my face. I fought against it, as hard as I could, but noting could stop a blush when it’s already beaten you to the punch. Chase noticed it too and backed away from me, a blush of his own threatening to surface. ‘Aha! Yes I made Chase Michaels blush! Somebody call the newspapers!’ I screamed internally.
“So,” I mumbled, his question from earlier forgotten.
“So,” he replied awkwardly. In an effort to give the tension some time to subside, I lifted my head and surveyed the room. Not as many people stared at Chase and I with their doubting looks as before, and I caught a glimpse of Nate as he randomly grabbed Poppy and sucked the living crap out of her. It was like watching a dementor suck out her soul. I nudged Chase in the side and pointed to them. He stifled a laugh and as quickly as the awkwardness had come, it faded away as we laughed at Nate and Poppy.
“Oh my God, she won’t have a face if they keep that up,” I joked through my laughter.
“I wonder why they’re so eager, it’s like they’re the ones putting on a show,” Chase thought out loud.
“It doesn’t really matter, I have to go home soon. Will you drive me?” I asked. He raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t realize he had said anything out loud, and knowing Chase, he probably didn’t realize it.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he muttered as he tried to get back into reality. Chase was preoccupied about something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. One thing I knew, was that it had something to do with Poppy and Nate, why else would he be so distracted by them sucking the other’s face off?
“Why do you care so much?” I asked him as we walked to his beat up silver Audi.
“Care ‘bout what?” he asked as he opened the driver’s side door and slid in.
“Poppy and Nate, you couldn’t take your eyes off of them,” I supplied and waited for his response. He pulled out of the driveway slowly, and didn’t answer. “Chase, what is it?” I asked him. He stared straight ahead at the road and didn’t answer the question. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he finally looked at me.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” was the completely imaginative response he came up with.
“Seriously Chase? If you’re going to lie, at least come up with something a little bit more creative,” I joked and chuckled a bit.
“Chas, come on,” he said pointedly.
“Just trying to defuse the tension,” I sing songed. His face remained stone-like as he focused his attention back to the road. We sat through the rest of the fifteen-minute ride to my house in silence. He parked in my driveway and I sat there contemplating how to tell my Dad. He wasn’t exactly the most lenient of parents, not to mention his hatred for Chase. ‘No way could a boy that does ballet be straight,’ one of my father’s choice ways to insult him.
“How the hell are we supposed to tell him?” Chase asked, as if he had read my mind. “He hates me, remember?”
I started to say, “he doesn’t hate you,” but Chase cut me off before I could finish.
“Chas, I’ve known you for three years now, I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were stupid,” I protested.
“But you were acting like it, don’t try to cover up you’re father’s thoughts, I know pretty damn well what he thinks of me,” Chase responded. “Let’s just deal with the problem ahead of us, we have to tell him, because he’ll find out eventually.” The downstairs light flicked on and I saw my dad’s beady eyes staring out of the window.
“Well we have about ten seconds, before he comes out here and drags me in,” I put simply.
“You are going to kill me for suggesting this, but we might not be able to tell him,” Chase said. I furrowed my brow in confusion, for I didn’t understand what he was getting at.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked him.
“Well, I’m just saying, that since he wouldn’t let us get two words out,” he started and turned to face me, “what if we just show him?”
“How the hell are we supposed to show him? Walk up to the porch holding hands? He’ll sock you in the nose!” I protested, as I was still unsure of what exactly he was getting at.
“No, this is the part where you’re going to kill me,” he said but didn’t quite finish the sentence. It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the right words.
“Why would I kill you? We’re pretty desperate if you haven’t noticed, I’d pretty much take anything,” I supplied, in hopes to finally figure out what he meant.
“I’m trusting you not punch me when this is over got it?” he asked. I nodded my head in compliance and waited. He cupped his hands around my face and placed both of his thumbs over my mouth. “Remember, no punching, and play along.” He brought his head down and started making out with his thumbs. ‘Oh! I get it now!’ I thought to myself. He was fake-kissing me, and I had to fake-kiss back. Unsure of how to do so without it looking too inappropriate or unrealistic, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hoped for the best. He pulled back and took his hands away as I unwrapped my arms.
“We have about five seconds,” I clarified. The curtains that my dad was looking through had been roughly closed and I could only imagine what he was doing inside the house.
“Then go! Quick, before he comes out here and beats me to a pulp!” Chase urged, he tried to be serious but anyone would have been able to hear the laugh that threatened to break through. I opened the car door and stepped out. I turned back to him and leant into the car.
“Thanks for doing all of this Chase, it means a lot,” I thanked him.
“What are best friends for?” he asked rhetorically. “Now go, before he kills you.” I stepped back and closed the car door as I turned towards the house. Chase pulled out of the driveway, faster than lightning, and before I knew it, I was alone to face my father.