Page 41 of Movers and Fakers

“Isn’t the whole point of this to get them to leave you alone? If you don’t tell them, you don’t get anything out of this relationship. Except more time with me, of course.”

She lets out a huff. “You’re right. I’ll just get it over with.”

Once we’re at the top of the stairs, she pulls her phone back out.

“Wait,” I say, and hold out my hand. “Didn’t you say they’d want pictures? We can take one really quick.”

“Oh—uh, yeah, that would be good.” She looks around the dark living room. The only illumination is the trail of lanterns leading toward the door. “Where?”

“Hand me your phone,” I say, and she eyes me with trepidation but passes it to me. I open the camera and make sure the flash is on. “Come here. Close your eyes and smile.”

“Close my eyes?”

“Just trust me,” I say while holding my arm out for her to slide beneath.

With the hesitation of someone entering a cave full of bears, she does. Her eyes flutter shut. I can’t see our faces in the darkened screen, so I have to hope we’re in frame. I turn and press a kiss to her temple right as I click the capture button. Blinding white light flashes. Aurora stiffens like there’s a gun to her head instead of my mouth.

I pull up the photo to show to her. Aurora’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, her lips turned up in a hint of a smile as I kiss her. The flash puts the focus on our faces, the background blurred out so no one can see where we are. Namely, that we’re in an empty room instead of a raging party.

“Think this will work?” I ask.

Aurora stares at the photo for a moment, her expression unreadable.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Thanks.”

She turns toward the door and types as she walks. I keep a slow pace to stay beside her, but I don’t spy on what she says. By the time she hits send, we’re on the sidewalk in front of the frat house.

Almost immediately, her phone starts to buzz.

“No,” she groans.

I glance at the screen and see that she’s getting a call from her mom. Even though she clearly doesn’t want to, she answers the phone.

“Hey, Mom.”

Aurora starts to walk down the sidewalk, and I follow her lead. If I had to bet, she’s walking more out of nervousness than the desire to get back to her apartment. Though it could be both. She does really hate parties.

“We just left. Hayes is walking me home,” she mumbles.

I consider reaching for her hand. My first instinct is to try to comfort in some physical way, but I don’t want to make anything worse. She let me touch her a lot tonight—and I’m more than grateful—but I don’t want to push my luck.

“I wasn’t hiding him, it’s-it’s just new is all.”

Her fingertips pluck at the hem of her sweatshirt. I take a chance and hold out my hand. She glances from it to my face, then back again. Slowly, she places her hand in mine and squeezes. I give her what I hope is an encouraging smile.

Aurora places the phone against her chest and whispers, “She wants to talk to you.”

My eyebrows lift.

“I don’t mind, but it’s your call. You’re in charge.”

She lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Just don’t say anything too”—she scrunches her nose—“you.”

I laugh to hide the sting of her words.

“Got it. Be the opposite of myself.”