“Hey, can I give you your fake Christmas gift now?” I ask Jules, and I see her eyes twinkle with curiosity. Clearing my throat, I call everyone from the other rooms and Jules looks at me confused. I ignore her confusion, and everyone wanders into the living room and takes a seat.
“I just want to say thank you for inviting me into your lives, into your home. I’ve felt nothing but welcome, and I appreciate it. As you all know, Jules is stunning. She’s beautiful inside and out. She’s gentle, she’s silly, and if she allows me…” I turn to Jules, taking her hand in mine and getting down on one knee. “If you allow me, Jules, I would be honored if you permitted me to love you for the next one hundred years. You make me unafraid of my past and so certain of my future.” Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my grandmother’s engagement ring. “Will you marry me?”
Tears fall from her eyes, and she covers her mouth with her hands. I know this is supposed to be an act, but it feels frighteningly real. In a good way, too. Her confused eyes lock with mine and she mouths, ‘Really?’ and I nod.
“Of course! Oh my gosh, yes!” she screams, and I leap off the ground, wrapping my arms around her. She kisses me, and I lose myself against her. Everything feels perfect. Everything is right. Up until we pull away and hear a cold silence in the room.
Turning toward everyone, I look to see their eyes staring at a cell phone—Jules cell phone.
“Jules,” her mother whispers, looking up to us. “Richard just called twice. And he left you a message apologizing for breaking up with you the way he did. He also said he would pick up his game systems after the New Year.”
The sudden shift of energy is ugly, and it happens so fast that I now feel like I’m falling. I’m falling into a pit of lies, and Jules is right there beside me.
“You WHAT?!” Dad hollers, and I feel all eyes giving me looks of disappointment, their judgmental gazes on me. Everyone’s shouting, everyone has an opinion, and I feel like disappearing through the front window. “Jules, are you crazy?! He could have been a murderer! You clearly lost your mind!”
“You don’t understand!” I cry, but he’s right. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t making any sense. I can hardly see Dad through my tears, and all I see is Mom tossing her hands around in annoyance.
“I can’t believe you would do something so stupid! How could you be so freaking stupid!”
“Hey, come on. She was just trying to—” Kayden steps forward, but I block him.
“Look, Kayden, it’s over, okay? The show’s over. No need to cover for me. The fake relationship is officially done. You’ll have your money by Monday morning.” When I turn to him, his eyes look hurt, as if my words were meant to destroy him. They weren’t. They were only meant to tell the truth.
“Yup, the act is over,” he says, running his hands through his hair. His cell phone goes off and he reaches into his pocket and answers it, walking into the other room.
“I don’t see why it’s such a big issue.” Tim Faulter is still here, and even he has an opinion on my craziness. “She was doing it to try to fit in.”
“Oh shut up, Tim! As if you have any right to have an opinion on this family,” Mom says in such a gross, mean way.
“Look, I’m just saying that I get it. Here Lisa is, sexing it up with her ex. I, too, would get drunk and find a fake boyfriend.”
“Hear, Hear!” Grandma shouts, drinking from her spiked eggnog.
“Mom, shut it. You’re drunk,” my mom says to Grandma, rolling her eyes.
“And you’re boring, but you don’t see me pointing that out,” Grandma snaps back at her.
Everyone’s on different teams—either Team Fake Boyfriend or Team Jules is a Liar. All but Lisa. She’s sitting silent, staring at me. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and it shuts just as fast. When it opens again, a tear falls down her face and she whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Her apology rips through my heart and sends me stumbling backwards. I turn to leave the room and all the shouting, when I see Kayden in the kitchen, running his hands over his face. He’s shaking, holding the edge of the countertop to keep from falling. When I walk over to him, I know it’s not because of the commotion in the living room, but because of something else. Something worse.
“What is it?” I ask, and when his green eyes look into mine, flooded with sadness, he clears his throat, trying his best to get the words out.
“My…my mom. She’s in the hospital.” He’s falling short of breath, trying to collect his thoughts and not fall apart right there. “I gotta go, I gotta drive, I gotta…”
He’s pacing back and forth and I place my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
I grab his hand and we move through the living room where everyone is still yelling their heads off, fighting, screaming, and noticing everything but us. Packing up our luggage, we load up the car.
“Let me drive,” I say, and he shakes his head.
“You stay here. Don’t worry about me.” He clears his throat and digs through his coat pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “I’m fine.”