I smoothed down the material of the blue dress I wore, looking myself over in the mirror. "Does this look okay?"
Rose glanced up from where she was lounging on my bed. "You look stunning, Abby. Kieran isn't gonna know what hit him."
I sat down beside her and groaned. I was so tempted to blurt out the truth, that Kieran and I weren't actually dating, though those lines seemed to blur a little more every day. As far as she knew, I was going out to dinner with Kieran and his mother to celebrate the UNC offer and to meet Mercedes Valencia officially as Kieran's girlfriend. I mean, I had no idea how to act. When I agreed to this whole fake dating thing, I hadn't really factored in meeting the parents—obviously mine would find out, but Mercedes Valencia was in another league.
"Why didn't you invite Felicity to get her opinion?" Rose asked. "You know she has a much better eye for fashion than I do."
Felicity did enjoy dolling people up, but... "She said she was busy. I think she's still upset about this weekend." UCLA hadn't outright rejected her after our game, but they hadn't offered her a position yet either. I didn't blame her for being upset; I would have been crushed if I were in that situation.
"Well, from my layman's opinion on evening-wear, you look fantastic. Where are you guys going, again?"
"Bluestem. One of my parent's competitors, but this wasn't exactly my idea." My phone buzzed from its spot on the vanity, and I glanced at the screen. "Kieran's on his way."
"That sounds like my cue to go." Rose pulled herself off the bed, groaning. "Ugh, practice has been kicking my ass this week."
I stood and felt a twinge of protest in my left calf. "Same. Coach was pissed about that game." Our dear coach had been drilling us nonstop all week, and our bodies were paying the price for it dearly.
We headed downstairs, and I waved at Rose as she got in her car and drove off. Tempted as I was to flop on the couch, I didn't want to risk wrinkling my dress, so I sat on the stairs and pulled on a ridiculously tall pair of heels instead.
Footsteps sounded above me. Finn peered over the railing, raising his eyebrows at my attire. "What are you all dressed up for?"
"Dinner with Kieran and his mother." I checked my makeup with my phone camera. "We're going to Bluestem."
"Meeting the parents already?" He bounded down the stairs and took a seat next to me. "Sounds like it's getting pretty serious."
I glanced at him, suspicious of where he was going with that comment. "I guess it is." Truth be told, I really wasn't sure how to feel about this dinner. Lying to our classmates was one thing, but to keep up the act in front of Mercedes Valencia?
Finn let out a breath. "I know I didn't react well to you and Kieran dating at first—" I snorted, and he glared at me before continuing "—but he's been happier lately. I haven't seen him like this since before all the Marissa drama."
Finn could be kind of oblivious sometimes, but that was a surprisingly astute observation. This was also his way of silently giving us the okay; not that I needed his approval to do things, but I appreciated it nonetheless.
"And you've been less angry lately, so I guess that's good too."
I shoved him in mock outrage. "Shut up, you jerk." He snickered, swatting my hands away.
"Look, just be careful, okay? I don't want to see either of you get hurt. And I don't want to have to pick sides, because that will be an all-around awkward situation."
I was still thinking over Finn's words when Kieran showed up a few minutes later in a striking tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders. He walked up the driveway to our front door, holding a container of something that I couldn't quite make out. I stood and opened the door to let him in.
"Te ves preciosa," he said, smiling softly.
"Gracias, I think," I replied. "¿Tú también?" I had no idea what he'd said. My Spanish really was atrocious.
He laughed. "I said, 'you look beautiful.'"
"Well, then I stand by my statement." I gestured at the plastic tupperware container he was clutching. "What's in there?"
Kieran presented it to me with a flourish. It was a slightly lopsided cake, with cornflower blue frosting and the word "Congrats!!" scrawled in messy icing across the top. I looked up, eyes wide. "Did you make this?"
His smile wavered. "Yeah, it's a little crooked, and I know it's nowhere near as good as something you would make, but—"
I threw my arms around him, nearly dislodging the entire container from his grip. "That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me!" I beamed up at him. "We are definitely cutting this and having some after dinner."
Kieran followed me into the kitchen, where Finn was scavenging for food in the cabinets. He zeroed in on the cake like a TSA dog finding a kilo of cocaine in a suitcase.
I held up a hand. "I swear to God, Finn, if we come back and there is a single ounce of frosting missing from this cake, I will murder you."
Finn rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever."
We left the cake in the refrigerator and walked outside to Kieran's Maserati. I turned to him as he navigated onto the highway and we settled in for the half hour drive downtown. "Anything I should know about your mom? Should I greet her in Spanish? Do we need to lay it on thick for her or just keep doing what we've been doing?"
He gave me a sideways glance, amused. "Are you nervous?"
"It's not like I get introduced to my fake boyfriend's mother every day."
"Relax, Abby." Kieran checked the rearview mirror before switching lanes smoothly. "She just wants to get to know you and say congrats on the UNC offer. And, to answer your question, don't greet her in Spanish unless you're prepared to have a whole conversation."
I thought of my heavily-accented Spanish and terrible listening comprehension. "Yeah, no. Will not be doing that, then."
The familiar Kansas City skyline came into view. Golden hour painted the buildings onto a backdrop of pinks and oranges and blues, blending together into the beginnings of a vivid sunset. I wondered if North Carolina's sunsets could compare to Kansas.
Kieran pulled into a parking spot a block away from the restaurant and popped a few quarters into the meter. He held out a hand to me, and I laced my fingers through his, ignoring the heat that crept up my cheeks at the gesture, as we walked up to Bluestem. Old-fashioned wooden paneling wound around the doorframe, lending the place a rustic feel, while glass windows allowed passersby to peek inside the restaurant. I tried to pay more attention to these details than the warmth of Kieran's hand wrapped around mine.
Once inside, I took a minute to observe the decor while we waited for the maitre'd. My parents always maintained that Bluestem's food wasn't as good as theirs, and certainly not as diverse, but whoever had designed the place knew what they were doing. The place was spacious but cozy at the same time, like an 18th-century log cabin that had been given a modern upgrade.
The maitre'd came bustling around the corner, beaming at Kieran. He was a shorter man with a bald spot on the back of his head and the brightest smile I'd ever seen. "Mr. Valencia, Ms. McMahon, right this way. The other members of your party arrived just a few minutes ago."
Other members? I turned to Kieran, but he looked just as confused as I was. We followed the maitre'd deeper into the restaurant, coming to a stop just outside a private alcove. I heard several voices and laughter, but the angle of the walls prevented me from seeing who was inside.
The maitre'd turned to us and smiled again. "Here we are."
Kieran and I stepped forward at the same time, rounding the corner to face the other occupants of the alcove. Mercedes Valencia sat on one side of the table in a stunning burgundy jumpsuit, bearing an unmistakable resemblance to her son.
Kieran inhaled sharply, hand squeezing mine—whether accidentally or on purpose, I wasn't sure. My eyes roamed over the guests until I came across the source of Kieran's surprise. I didn't recognize the two adults on either side of her, but Marissa Willingham's glare of unbridled hatred was hard to miss.
I looked away from her before I did something stupid, like dump water on that stupid pink dress of hers. What was she even doing here?
A distraction came in the form of Mercedes Valencia standing from the table to give her son a hug. Kieran let go of my hand to greet his mother, kissing her on both cheeks and smiling. She turned to me next, leaning in. I realized belatedly that she was expecting me to repeat the cheek-kissing custom, so I tried to imitate Kieran's actions.
It felt incredibly awkward to me, but she smiled at me, so I figured I wasn't in trouble just yet. "Hi, Abby. It's wonderful finally to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Kieran." Her Spanish accent was more prominent than Kieran's, which I rarely noticed anymore.
"Likewise, Ms. Valencia," I said, returning her smile.
"Please, just Mercedes is fine."
"Mamá, ¿qué hacen aquí?" Kieran interjected. I hoped Marissa didn't speak Spanish.
"Los invité," Mercedes replied. "Y por favor, habla inglés."
Kieran suppressed a sigh and turned to me, pulling out a chair. His hands were a little unsteady, and the chair screeched as it moved across the wooden floor. He winced.
After we had taken our seats around the circular table—I was in between Mercedes and Kieran—a waiter came around to fill our glasses with water. I assumed the people on either side of Marissa were her parents, though she didn't look much like either of them.
"I went ahead and ordered the tasting menu for each of us," Mercedes said. "Abby, Kieran, do either of you want the wine pairing?"
I shook my head. "Just water is fine for me, thanks." I really couldn't risk alcohol clouding my judgment tonight, especially with Marissa in the same room as me. Also, I'd kissed Kieran the last time I was drunk, which was something we still hadn't talked about.
Kieran also shook his head. "I'm driving, mamá."
Dinner started out fine. Marissa's parents were named Jennifer and Preston Willingham and seemed like relatively normal people. There were a few heavy-handed hints from Jennifer about how much they missed Kieran, but the real drama didn't start until dessert arrived.
Mercedes turned to me as the waiter set down the first of the three dessert courses. "Abby, Kieran told me about the offer from the University of North Carolina. Congratulations! Is that where you're headed next year?"
I smiled. "Yeah, UNC is my dream school. I'm really looking forward to being on the team."
Marissa rolled her eyes and scoffed. She had been getting increasingly more passive-aggressive with each cup of wine, making snide comments under her breath that somehow everyone except me seemed to be deaf to. I'd been doing my best to ignore her, but I only had so much patience.
Kieran placed a hand on my knee in warning, which I shook off. "Marissa, do you have something to add?" If she had any sense, she would've backed off right then and there.
"Considering we beat your team this weekend, you don't deserve that position, do you? If you really were that good, you guys wouldn't have lost."
"Marissa!" her mother exclaimed.
I smiled coldly. "Everyone has their off days. Just wait until our rematch at the tournament next month. Then we'll see who the better player is."
She sneered at me. "You will never be anything more than a mediocre, pathetic slut who takes other people's boyfriends! Kieran and I would still be together if it weren't for you!"
I shouldn't have taken the bait. I knew she was trying to get me angry, and I knew she knew it was working, judging by the smirk on her face. "Oh, that's rich. You know why Kieran broke up with you? Because you cheated on him." Gasps erupted around the table. It was a low blow. Regret churned in my stomach the second the words left my mouth, made worse by the way Kieran tensed beside me.
Marissa went still. "What did you just say?"
I raised my chin defiantly. "You heard me."
She stared at me in shock. I thought she was going to cry, until hysterical laughter came out of her mouth. "You're really going to act like you're totally innocent? I bet you haven't even told Kieran about you and Maddox. I saw you guys upstairs at the party."
I flushed. How the hell did she know about that? "There's nothing to tell."
A triumphant gleam entered her eyes. "You and I both know that's not true."
"Marissa Elise Willingham, that is enough!" her father snapped. Marissa looked abashed, but she still gave me one last venomous look before glancing away.
I sank lower into the plush velvet seat, fingers clutching the side of the upholstery. All the fight rushed out of me in a single breath. I couldn't believe I'd let her drag me down to her level.
Kieran pushed away from the table, leaving his dessert untouched. "I need some air." He wouldn't look at me. An apology bubbled up in my throat, but he was gone before I could get the words out.
I blinked rapidly and stood up. "Excuse me for just a moment." I stumbled away from the table, refusing to look at Mercedes Valencia. Oh God, what had I done?
Nighttime had fallen while we were in the restaurant, and I had to use my phone flashlight to illuminate the ground to avoid tripping over something. I found Kieran outside, putting more quarters in the flashing parking meter. He tensed when he heard my heels clicking on the pavement behind him.
"No quiero hablar," he muttered as I approached.
"I'm sorry," I blurted. "That was really shitty of me."
Kieran snorted humorlessly. "Straight to the point, huh?"
"It's just— Marissa drives me crazy, and I wanted to get back at her, and I know that's not an excuse, but—"
He turned to face me. The moonlight cast a pale light over his face, highlighting his cheekbones and carving shadows in his jawline. "You're right, it's not. You know what's so messed up about all of this? I would never throw around your past with Maddox, or Isaac, or anyone just to hurt someone else, because it would hurt you more."
I bristled. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know you didn't mean to, but it still hurt. I'm not a pawn you can just throw in her face or lord over her every time the two of you clash!"
"Then what the hell do you think we're doing? Are you not using me to prove a point to her?" I couldn't believe him. "Isn't that what this entire relationship is based on?"
Kieran was silent. Just when I was beginning to wonder if he was planning to answer my questions at all, he spoke, so softly that I almost missed it. "Maybe this was a mistake."
I stared at him, a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach. "You can't be serious. You really want to quit now?" I wasn't just talking about the fake relationship. If we ended things like this, I didn't think our friendship would even survive. Was he okay with that?
He jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away.
Ouch. I threw my hands in the air. "Fine. I'm leaving. You know where to find me if you decide you ever want to talk." I turned and headed back to the restaurant to grab my things and apologize to Mercedes Valencia for ruining her dinner. "And don't bother waiting; I'll take an Uber home!"
I didn't expect him to say anything, but it still kind of stung when he didn't protest my decision. So I held my head up and marched back into the restaurant with what was left of my dignity, leaving him standing on the sidewalk by his car, nothing but a tall silhouette outlined by the pale moonlight.