He takes the empty Chinese containers from the coffee table. “You mean like Nick and the ‘Humpty Dance?’”

I nod.

He thinks for a minute and then shakes his head. “I can’t think of one. Why?”

“Just curious.” I bite down on my lip.

“Uh-uh. You have one, don’t you? What is it?”

I bite my lip and his face lights up. “Oh, this is fun. Let me guess. ‘Genie in a Bottle?’”

I shake my head no.

“‘The Pony?’”

I scrunch up my face. “Seriously? Ginuwine should turn everyone on.”

He tosses the trash and then crosses his arms in front of him, studying me carefully.

“‘Ice Ice Baby,’” I admit quietly and watch his face transform into a huge smile. “Don’t laugh. It’s my jam.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He presses his lips together tightly and goes back to helping me pick up. Under his breath, he begins to lightly hum the song.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” I say as he breaks out singing for real. He spits out the first verse as he walks to me.

When he finishes, we’re standing chest to chest, smiling at one another.

“Jerk,” I tease.

Our gazes lock, and I swear he’s going to kiss me. No witnesses, just us caught up in this happy fake relationship we’ve created. I have to admit, we’re good at pretending. So good that I think we’re both lost wondering what’s real and what’s not.

I can survive another year without a boyfriend, I remind myself. It’s my final shot to prove I belong—that I always belonged. No weaknesses I can control, and Nathan’s definitely starting to feel like a weakness.

“I’m tired,” I say and step back. There’s a note of disappointment in his body language as he watches me put distance between us.

“Yeah, I should go.” He walks to the door and doesn’t glance back as he leaves.

And now I’ve got “Ice Ice Baby” on the brain and no fake boyfriend to make out with.

13

NATHAN

Monday, late morning between classes, I drop onto the couch in the living room. Shaw tosses me a remote without asking and restarts Tecmo Super Bowl.

“Where were you last night?”

“With Chloe.”

He nods. “You missed a crazy night at the baseball house. Jefferson bought four boxes of wine.” Shaw shakes his head. “I had the mother of all headaches this morning. Cheap wine hangover is rough.”

“Yeah,” I agree, feigning interest, but in truth, a night out getting wasted with my buddies doesn’t have quite the same appeal anymore.

I side-eye him as I select the Raiders, and he picks the 49ers.

“Get the fuck out of here, you can’t play the 49ers.” The old video game was made with a clear bias. 49ers are unbeatable.

He grumbles but picks the Giants. “You and Chloe, huh? She seems cool.”