Fake Dates & Ice Skates: Chapter 13

I’ve spent the last few days moping around, feeling pathetic as I throw a ball at my wall from my bed, watching it bounce back. Is this how it usually feels when I haven’t had a drink? I’ve never realised how lonely I was until I’ve seen what it’s like to be around Wren. Now, I feel like smashing my head against the wall out of boredom.

I finally put myself out of my misery and throw on jeans and a hoodie and jump into my car. I connect my phone to the bluetooth and put on the playlist that I’ve started to put together for Wren. Okay, it’s not I mean, technically I should be able to go and see her when I want since she’s my girlfriend. Fake girlfriend but still. She must be stalking me or something because the second the song finishes my phone lights up with a text from her.

The bubbles appear, suggesting that she’s typing but they disappear again and I laugh to myself for getting under her skin. I can’t help it sometimes. She’s just too easy to wind up and lucky for her, I like it when she gets mad at me.

I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been to the campus library. It’s a large Adam-style building that contrasts the other modern architecture around the rest of the school, right across from Florentino’s. Me and books don’t mix well, which is why I chose a course where I could do minimal reading. I can read a banging biography but textbooks are a no-go.

I walk through the large doors, scanning my NU card onto the machine to go through the security gates and I’m in the middle of unknown territory. There are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled with deep brown paperbacks and textbooks. I know it’s a library, but it’s Wren is sitting at a table tucked in the back of the study zones, the only person in her section. She has a pile of books on the right side of her, her laptop displayed in front of her. She looks different in this setting. She’s not sweaty and panting from skating or working out. Instead, she’s got owl frame glasses on, her hair is tied into a high ponytail and she’s wearing a white tank top and shorts, her knee pulled up to her chin.

I walk over to her with the biggest grin on my face and I step on another wrong plank of wood. You’d think that they’d try to make the floors as soundless as possible but no. Wren shakes her head at me, pulling up her glasses to rest on the top of her head.

“Could you be any louder?” she whisper-shouts when I sit across from her.

“Hello to you too, girlfriend,” I say sarcastically, leaning on my elbows, looking at her adoringly. Maybe the cute puppy look gets a lot of girls going but Wren could not look more turned off if she tried. I reach over to tap her glasses and pull them onto her face. “These are cute.”

Her nose crinkles as she rolls her eyes. “Thanks,” she murmurs, looking down onto her laptop and then back to me. “I need you to test me with these questions.” I raise me eyebrows and she whispers, “Please.”

She turns the laptop towards me and I see the list of questions she has in her Word Doc about a book called ‘Atonement.’ I have no idea what that is but the questions seem interesting. Well, interesting if you’re into literature. Is this my pathetic way of admitting that anything that Wren’s into, means I am into it too by proxy.

“Is this all you need me for?” I ask, scrolling through the endless list. She nods, scribbling something down onto a notebook. “Couldn’t Kennedy and Scarlett do this? As much as I know I’m going to enjoy asking these questions, I know I wasn’t your first choice.”

“Do you have any volume control?” she whispers, pinning me a scary look. I didn’t think I was talking that loud but fine. “Scarlett has an exam today and Kennedy’s working.”

“And you don’t have any friends from your class?”

She shrugs before shaking her head. “Just ask me the damn questions, Milesy.”

And I do.

I learn all about the cultural and social setting of the novel and a bunch of other random shit that I don’t need to know. I don’t know how she’s worried about passing this exam when she answers every question immediately and exactly with the answers that she’s written down. I have no idea what most of the stuff she’s talking about means, but it seems like she has a handle on it.

When I finally get to the last question, I turn the laptop back around to her. “What’s next?”

She scrolls through it, picking up her very annotated copy of the novel before typing something down. “I need to write down some last minute notes and then I’m going to do a timed essay.”

“And you need me here for that, why?”

“So you can confiscate my devices. I’ll get too distracted if I have them in front of me. It’s what me and the girls usually do,” she explains. That makes sense. I can barely study when I’ve got anything in front of me. Maybe I should come to the library more often but if she’s here…maybe that’s not a good idea.

“Do you have that little self-control?” I tease, making sure to keep my voice quiet.

“I have a lot more self-control than you do,” she challenges. “I’m just gonna make these notes and then do the essay. You should go and explore while I write.”

“And risk getting death-stared by every person in here? No thanks,” I say, leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms. “I can just watch you study.”

“Fine, you perv,” she murmurs before getting back into the zone.

Watching her study is slightly motivating me. I know I should have brought some of my own stuff with me, to study for exams that aren’t for months, but I would have just got distracted anyway. Have I mentioned how beautiful this woman is? How is she managing to read, write and listen to a podcast all at once? I can’t figure it out for the life of me but her dedication to studying as well as skating is one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen. I’ve been making paper boats with her spare paper for almost an hour. She’s still not ready to write her essay yet so I’m this close to dying of boredom. I tap her pen with the fluffy end next to the laptop as she types away.

“Wren. Wren. Wren. Wren,” I press and I know it’s about to irritate the fuck out of her. “Wrenny, Wren, Wren.”

She stops typing, slamming the laptop shut dramatically. “What!?”

I smile wide, popping my dimple out and everything. “Hi.”

Her face almost breaks for a second but she sticks her tongue in her cheek before opening her laptop again. She starts typing as she says, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I ask innocently.

“Annoy me like a puppy.”

“Isn’t that what boyfriends are for?”

“

Because I have no self-control, I say, “Are you trying to hint something, Wren?”

“No,” she snaps, blushing. “All I’m saying is, it’s empty in here so you don’t need to do that. Rule number three.”

*

When Wren finally finishes her essay, she picks up all of her shit and we walk across to Florentino’s. It’s busy here, as always. This shop is rivalling Starbucks with the special menu the school has created. If there is one good thing about NU besides hockey, it’s this cafe. We walk up to the counter, my arm around her shoulder, Wren’s books clutched to her test, and I’m sure we look like every cliched couple in a teen drama.

“What’s your usual order?” I ask when we join the line. She tilts her head to the side, thinking for a second.

“It depends what the special is. Ken is always whipping something up in there,” she says, nodding to her best friend who is working frantically behind the counter. “Her mango smoothies are fantastic.”

“In this climate? It’s fucking freezing outside and you want a mango smoothie?” I ask, clearly shocked by her poor choice of drink.

“Okay, fine. What would you suggest?”

“Deluxe hot chocolate, obviously,” I say flippantly. “It’s fucking expensive here but it’s good.”

“That’s not the most expensive thing on the menu,” she whispers, shifting from one foot to the other as we move further down the line.

“Really? What is?”

“The caramel crunch cappuccino,” she concedes, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Let me guess. That’s your usual order,” I say, laughing. She nods.

“Even with Kennedy’s discount, it’s still ridiculous,” Wren replies. “It is the best drink though.”

“I’m a nineteen year old student. What makes you think I can afford a seven dollar coffee?” I spit out and she laughs, shrugging. “You’re lucky, darling. You are the only exception.”

“Oh my God, you’re quoting Paramore to me right now,” she gasps. She fans herself dramatically. “I think I’m falling for you, Miles.”

I laugh with her and nudge her in the shoulder to move forward since we’re next in the line. When Kennedy sees us she smiles wide, clearly our biggest fan. She’s dressed in her pink Florentino’s uniform and her apron that is covered in small pins, showing off all the groups she supports.

“There is my favourite couple,” she exclaims. “What can I get for you?”

“The most expensive drink you have,” Wren chimes in, smiling at me. I’m going to be fourteen dollars more broke than I was this morning but if it makes her smile like that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Coming right up,” Ken says, rushing off to serve the next person after  I pay.

We walk out of Florentino’s sipping our drinks walking towards Radnor Hall where Wren’s classes take place. I’m holding both of our drinks in my hand while Wren hooks one arm into mine, holding her books with the other. It would probably be super cringe if I was feeding Wren her drink if it was anyone but her. I swear every time we walk past someone, they do a double take. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this. The stares. The whispers. The looks.

We’ve kept mostly quiet as we drink our cappuccinos. I can’t lie. This drink is amazing and unfortunately worth the money.

“Wren! Oh my god. I was just looking for you,” a girl with dark brown hair rushes towards us when we’re walking past the library. The girl I’ve never seen before in my life hooks Wren’s arm into hers, taking her away from me.

“You were?” Wren asks, looking back to me as her friend walks them in front of me.

“Yes! I was trying to find you to talk about the essay we had to do for Atonement,” she explains. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Wren turns around, looking at me sceptically, her eyes suddenly wide and unsure. “This is Miles Davis. I’m sure you know him. Miles, this is Katie Buxbaum from my creative writing class.”

“So you guys really are dating?” Katie asks, looking between the both of us. We nod. Her eyes narrow for a second before she nods again, slowly. “Cool. So will you guys come to my party tonight, then? It’s a lowkey thing but most people from class are going.”

I’m about to respond but Wren awkwardly unlink her arms with Katie’s and picks up her drink from my hand and throws it into the trash.She slips her fingers into mine instead, signalling to me that she doesn’t want to talk to her.

“Thanks for the offer but we’re busy tonight. We’re like newly weds. Just can’t be apart from each other,” Wren says, her voice an octave higher than usual as she snuggles into my side. “I’ll see you in class.” Wren practically runs down the corridor, pulling me along with her, turning the sharp corner until we’re away from her and panting.

“What the hell was all that about?” I ask when Katie is out of sight. “That could have been a perfect opportunity.”

‘I didn’t want to go, okay?” Wren pants, her big green eyes boring into me. “My social battery has already run out and I swear I’ve never spoken to Katie before today. The thing is, she’s really nice but I don’t want to build our friendship around the basis that I’m sort-of popular now. I’m sure she’s great but I just-”

I cut her off, placing my arms on her shoulders as she clutches the books to her chest. “Hey. Can you chill? I just wanted to know why you didn’t want to go and now I do. You don’t have to explain everything to me. I’m not going to push you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now give me your books,” I demand.

Her eyebrows crease. “What?”

“Let me hold your books for you, woman,” I say, plucking the books from her. “Oh, and your bag too.” I sling her tote bag over my shoulder, feeling ridiculous and proud all at the same time. She shakes her head at me, laughing.

She hooks her arm through mine again, walking us down the corridor towards her class. “These are the kind of fake-boyfriend perks I need.”

“You know…” I start. “I can give you all the perks if you want.”

“I’m good,” she replies, scrunching her nose. Her phone rings and because her hands are finally free, she reaches into her back pocket and pulls it out. “I’ve got to take this. It’s my dad. My class is jsut there. I’ll see you later.”

She starts to collect her books and her bag from my shoulder. She starts to walk, leaving me behind but I call after her. “I think your forgetting something.”

“What? I have all my books,” she concedes.

“My kiss.” I grin.

“Right. How could I possibly forget?” she mimics, walking back up to me and presses the softest kiss to my cheek.

This is going to be perfect.

I get to watch her study. I carry her books. I walk her to class and then I get a kiss on the cheek. Fake dating Wren Hackerly might be the best thing to ever happen to me.