Fake It ‘Til You Break It

Miranda takes a drink from her water bottle, setting it on the floor before she claps to get our attention. “Okay, that was halfway decent, but I do need to make some changes. A few of the pairings just… aren’t working,” she announces, her eyes instantly meeting mine. “Demi, partner with Mr. Rodriguez.”

I look to Trent who is focused on Nico.

“Gina, you’re dismissed,” she tells the JV girl she had dancing with Trent. “I’ll let you know what I need from you later.”

Nico’s chest presses against my back in defiance, and I glance at him over my shoulder.

But wait…

I look to Miranda. “I’ll be teaching Nico and Trent then?”

“I’ll make sure Nico is taken care of.” I don’t like the way she smiles as she says it. “And I’ll assign him a new partner after I make a decision.”

“I can teach him what he needs to know.”

Several heads swivel our direction at my instant and accidentally argumentative tone.

Miranda’s eyes narrow. “Fall in line, Demi. Ten seconds to start.”

I pick up my towel and water, ready to walk off, but Nico jerks me back with a scowl.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

“What she told me to.”

He glares, his eyes focused over my shoulder and narrowing. “Tell her no,” he says almost too low to be heard.

“She’s the coach in this room, Nico. Would you tell yours no on the field?”

“Now, Mr. Sykes,” Miranda says with a hint of a threat.

His jaw tics, a harsh breath escaping through his nose.

He’s pissed, and he doesn’t bother hiding it as he glances at me, only to jerk right past me. Slowly, he makes his way toward her.

Trent ends up at my side, so I set my items back down and we work in the spot I started.

He scratches the back of his neck, glancing around. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I tell him, spinning around and getting into position, my back to his front.

“We’ll run through it once more as a group,” Miranda shouts. “Then work independently with your partner to make sure they’re doing as expected, perfect what you can, ladies. We only get them for twenty minutes at a time.”

Just as she says, we go one more round, cutting after the sliding walk – we don’t show them a single step from our actual routine that will follow.

Trent is a quick learner so we’re basically chatting as we repeat the steps in slow counts to keep going like we’re busy. It’s not as if the boys have a whole lot to do other than hold on and follow our movements. They aren’t dancing with us, it’s just a presentation welcoming them onto the field, and then it’s our routine.

As much as I try not to, I repeatedly glance toward the end of the gym, where Miranda and Nico practice independently.

I can’t look away as she starts from step one again, foolish frustration flaring when Miranda drops in front of him.

His eyes following her form as she slowly lifts has me looking away.

“Your coach is a trip.”

A laugh leaves me and my eyes widen mockingly. “Yeah. I like to joke she’s a stripper at night and sometimes lets it show in here for fun.”

“She probably is.” He laughs. “No way she can afford to live how she does on a coach’s salary.”

“Trust me, she’s making money.” I look to him. “She dances for Jay Productions.”

“The record label?”

I nod. “Yep, she’s their top dancer. Featured in over a dozen videos this year alone.”

“Damn.” He nods, impressed.

I squint their way, finding Miranda smiling and pushing on Nico’s chest. “Yep.”

“Are you jealous?”

My head snaps toward him. “What’s with the tone of surprise lately, Trent?”

“Shit,” flies from him, but he recovers quickly, his expression smoothing out. “I meant seeing another chick on your man like that. Does that make you jealous?”

I look back to the two, tracking Miranda’s hands as she reaches behind her to grip Nico’s, and places them a little too high on her middle.

I swallow and turn back to Trent.

“No,” I lie. “Chemistry, sexuality, it’s all a part of what we do as dancers. People have to believe what they’re seeing. It’s our job to make sure they do.”

If he doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t say so, instead going with, “Not sure I could handle it if Krista was doing this instead of cheer.”

“Yeah,” I frown. “I imagine it can be a lot.”

Like right now, for example.

“Demi…” Trent trails off, gaining my attention.

“What?”

He eyes me a moment, before shaking his head. “Nah, nothing. Let’s keep going.”

So, we do.

The rest of the day I’m stuck with a headache I can’t get rid of and end up going straight home to sleep it off, not waking up until my alarm rings for school the next morning.

The second I walk into dance class, I’m tempted to walk right back out.

Miranda and Nico are the only two in the gym, both tucked in the back corner, only half the lights turned on for some stupid reason and providing them with too much privacy for my liking.

I stand there, frozen, watching as she drops in front of him, then rolls her way back up his body. When she spins, walking out with his hand in hers, the last move that involves the boys, I begin to step the rest of the way through the doors, but the music continues to play, and Miranda keeps fucking dancing.

She twists her knees left, her elbows locked and shifted right, then as she jumps up, her stance widening as she tugs her jacket open, revealing her sports bra beneath it – the move I choreographed to go with the lettermen’s jackets we’ll be wearing at the beginning of our performance.

I look to Nico, who while his eyes are pointed in her direction, wears a deep frown.

Slowly, his feet move toward her, and just as slowly she walks into him. Her hands slide across his chest, as his move down her ribs, gripping her hips so he can tug her forward.

That’s not part of their entrance.

“Damn,” is whispered in my ear, and my head jerks over my shoulder to find Alex. He’s watching them. “Guess you weren’t the only one asked for a private lesson.”

I look back to the two.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Demi. I wasn’t—”

“It’s fine,” I whisper.

Why am I whispering?

Why not go right in, make my presence known?

“Wanna go somewhere?” Alex offers, his hand finding my lower back. “I doubt you really want to stand here and watch this.”

I don’t answer, but lift my bag in the air, letting it go when it’s well over my head to ensure it hits with a loud, echoed thud across the near empty gym.

Miranda, I would think, would fly away from the student whom she has her filthy hands all over. She doesn’t.

Nico either.

He locks in place, a hard glare taking over as his hands slowly fall to his sides.

But his eyes, they aren’t on me.

They’re on the guy beside me, or more, the hand still fixed on my back.

“Hey.” Miranda laughs, dropping her palm to Nico’s chest, officially forcing my attention back to her. She looks to the clock quickly. “Early as always.”

“As always.”

Her eyes pull, but then she shifts her focus to Alex. “You should have told me it was Demi you’ve been meeting early. I totally would have asked the janitor to open up for you guys. Seems you found a private place to practice, though. Awesome.”

I grow stiff. “What—”

Alex’s sudden closeness has me stopping short. I frown, having not even realized he and I walked farther inside.

“Yeah, we’re good. Just finished up actually,” he lies, tipping his chin as if asking me to go with it.

Is he crazy?

The tension in the air is so thick, it takes me a second to react.

I take a step out, away from Alex and look to Nico, who knows I turned Alex down when he asked for help.

I’m the one missing something here, not him.

I look to Miranda. “You can get your hand off him now.”

Shock flashes across her without her control, but she covers it with a glare just as quick.

As if he hadn’t noticed before this moment she was touching him, Nico’s eyes slice to the contact and he shoves her off. He studies her a moment, then his head snaps toward Alex, and something passes between them.

Nico steps toward him, but I slide in the middle, positioning myself directly in front of Nico, and nothing but rage glares back as he looks at me.

His features are hard, the cuts of his jaw more profound as he clenches it, the cords of his neck raised and tight.

He might be mad, but so am I, and I glare right back.

Show her, Neek.

I tip my chin the slightest bit.

Nico’s forehead pulls, but then it dawns on him, and his hand slips into my hair at the base of my skull, his lips lowering to mine.

It’s a short, quick skim, but it’s effective enough.

For now.

I reach up, sliding my fingers across his, my eyes moving over his shoulder to a pissed off Miranda.

“I’m going to run to the restroom. Should I… I don’t know, maybe wake the place up on my way out or are you wanting the class to practice in this shadowed, burlesque type lighting you’ve got going on?”

It comes out with more of a bite and I’m glad for that.

Her eyes narrow, but she finally snaps out of it, and realizing she should have some tact, or at least be more careful in the school gym with a student when technically she’s a teacher, she offers a tight smile.

“You can turn them on.” She starts backward, her narrowed gaze sliding to Nico. “Help me grab—”

“Just,” I cut her off, tugging Nico with me. “Don’t.”

I don’t wait for her response, if she gives one, but pull Nico out the door with me all to drop his hand and storm into the bathroom a door down.

I’m so fucking annoyed and pissed, and an array of other things I don’t even want to think about right now.

My dance coach? Is he that careless?

This is someone I have to work with for the entire school year. It’s not like we announced to her that we were dating – fake dating – but based off how he came right to me the first day, the interest was at least laid out in front of her and the rest of my team. To make matters worse, Alex, who acted like an ass just now and does know us to be together, saw the same thing I did.

It’s embarrassing.

It’s so much more than embarrassing.

Taking a deep breath, I step in front of the mirror, staring directly into my own eyes.

What the hell are you doing, Demi?

A mocking chuckle escapes and I shake my head.

It would be so easy to stand here and play the comparison game, but I’m not going to do that. I’m happy with who I am, with my body and skill set. Miranda and her scandalous tactic this morning has nothing to do with the anxiety building in my chest right now.

This is all about Nico, who steps through the door behind me.

Nico shifts closer, his body now aligned with the mirror as he stands only a few paces back, and a single step to the left, eyes on mine, a heavy hostility surrounding him.

“Demi.” The bridled anger in his voice has my own returning.

“Are you in need of a hall pass, Nico?” I snap.

Shock flashes across his face, but fury quickly takes its place. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Answer the question.”

He scoffs, looking away quickly only to come right back. “She told me to come here early, said we had to start going over the rest of this shit. I had no fuckin’ clue it would only be us. You really think I’d be here if I did?”

I stare, forcing the possibilities flaring in my gut at bay.

He shakes his head and charges for the door, but pauses with it half open, his eyes finding mine in the mirror once more. “Is this your game, how you wanna play it so you can go fuck Alex and call it a draw? Or maybe you two just slipped outta his backseat before you walked in the gym, with his fuckin’ hands on you!” he lashes out as he tosses the door open and exits.

I whip around to chase him out and the few feet down he’s gotten, hastily forcing my words past clenched teeth. “I am not you, and I’m sure as hell not Josie.”

His muscles lock tight and he freezes in place.

After a long moment, his chin tips over his shoulder, only half his face visible to me, but it’s enough for me to know that was the wrong thing to say, also noticing he doesn’t exactly look shocked I know about what she did to him.

I cross my arms. “Alex is a fucking liar. I don’t know why he tried to make it sound like I helped him, and I don’t know why he’s here early, but it wasn’t to meet me. I turned him down, Nico. You heard it with your own ears.”

Something shifts and he keeps me locked in his gaze until he disappears into a classroom door a few feet ahead.

My heart beats out of control as I follow.

I only make it a foot through and then he has me pinned.

His voice is low, not a hint of cruelty laced within his tone, though the words he chooses seem to be. “You realize I need no hall pass to fuck whoever I want, right?” His nose brushes mine briefly. “But, tell me something, would my sticking my dick in someone else not bother you none? ‘Cause all that, D, everything you just said to me in there, it tasted a lot like jealousy, so I’m thinking it would.”

When I don’t speak, he lifts his head, looking me in my eyes.

I am jealous. Completely.

“Why did she have attitude toward you the first day of practice?” I demand.

“Because I fucked her this summer,” he admits instantly.

My shoulders fall and I try to look away, but he doesn’t allow it, shifting to stay in my line of sight.

“I haven’t touched her since, and I have no fuckin’ plans to. She was good with it when it ended, I don’t know why she’s acting like a fool right now.”

I’m not sure if this is supposed to make me feel better or not, but it doesn’t.

He didn’t exactly do anything wrong, so I’m not mad at him, but I am mad at the entire situation.

As if reading the thought the second it crossed my mind, Nico cocks his head to the side, whispering, “Tell me you’re not as dumb as you are blind?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He nods, allowing his hands to fall before he steps back. “Then I guess the answer is yes, D.”

With that, he walks out and I’m left wondering what wrong turn I took to get here, falling for the guy who only promised me a lie.

I’m a zombie the rest of the day, and thankfully we’re watching a film in chem so talking isn’t necessary.

I skip my after school dance practice for the first time in all my four years, because fuck Miranda, and head straight home.

I’m showered and lying on my bed within minutes, left with nothing but my thoughts to further ruin the day.

The light knock on my door a couple hours later has me pushing up on my elbow.

My mom opens the door and walks in, her lips pursed in an unpleasant smile.

At this point, I’m already emotionally spent. I’m prepared for her words, whatever they might be, another trip announcement probably, but when her mouth smooths out, concern lining her forehead as much as the Botox allows, my bottom lip begins to tremble.

“Demi…” she whispers, a softness I haven’t heard from her in… I don’t even remember when, but she hasn’t seen me like this… ever.

She steps closer.

And I break.

I cry for no real reason other than fear of what hasn’t even happened yet.

Surprising me even further, my mom doesn’t say what she came in here for, but instead sits on the edge of my bed.

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t touch me like a normal mother would feel comfortable enough to, but she doesn’t get up either.

She’s there when I fall asleep but gone when I wake.

It was enough.

I push to my feet and move toward the closet to grab some clothes.

I take my time getting ready, having no intention of getting to school early today. My mind is overworked and an anxious mess.

How I allowed myself to get to this point, I don’t know, but if I’m sure of one thing, it’s that I should give myself some room to breathe.

I need to distance myself from Nico because…

When he says it’s time to break, I just might.

He and I, we’re nothing.

Fake as the smile I’ll wear today.

Apparently, I even lie to myself now.

Once I’m ready to go, I grab my phone and my backpack and make my way downstairs, and sitting there, beside a slightly melted iced coffee is a note.

Prep for finals begins today.

But the words aren’t where my focus lies, it’s on the little pill that sits on top of the paper.

I take the stupid thing.