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Back The Fake Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Cover
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. EPILOGUE
  39. PLAYLIST
  40. THE PASS SNEAK PEEK
  41. TANNER
  42. SYDNEY
  43. TANNER
  44. ALSO BY REBECCA JENSHAK

A part of me, a very large, throbbing, hard part of me wants to push the conversation further. We’re only a few texts away from sexting. But this isn’t how I want to do this. I like Chloe, and I don’t want to be relegated to sexting and kisses when her roommates are watching.

Me: Night, freak. Talk to you tomorrow.

Chloe: Okay, well happy running and sweet dreams.

I hold my breath as I re-read it a dozen times. She’s hit a nerve and has no idea. Such an innocent sign off, but for me, it’s filled with all types of hope and promise. When I snap out of my shock, I respond in kind.

Me: Sweet dreams, Surfer Princess.

I push away from my desk and stare at my bed. Sweet dreams? Nah, that’s not likely.

14

CHLOE

I’m studying in the library Friday night when Camila FaceTimes.

“Hey, stranger,” she says when I answer.

“I know, I’m sorry things have been crazy.”

“You’ll be forgiven if you promise to come visit for my birthday next month.”

I stare at her hopeful face and feel guilty for hesitating.

“Please, Chlo. I miss you. JT’s throwing a party for me, and I need my best girl there.”

“Of course, I’ll come.”

“Yay!” she squeals, and I turn the volume down on my headphones. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me, too.”

“Where are you anyway?”

“Oh.” I glance around and give her a sheepish smile. “The library.”

“On a Friday night? Are the roommates still being bitches?”

“No, actually that’s gotten better. I’m just catching up on some school stuff.”

I’m staring at the screen and listening to Camila tell me about her plans for the night so I don’t notice as he approaches, but when Nathan takes the seat in front of me, I almost drop my phone.

He’s in his standard solid-colored t-shirt and jeans, but his hair isn’t in its usual disarray. In fact, I think there might be gel in it.

“Hey, Cam,” I interrupt her. “I gotta go. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Yep, I’m heading out anyway. Love ya.”

“Love you, too.”

I take my earbuds out slowly. “Hi.”

“What’s up?” The man doesn’t have any books with him—not even a backpack to give the impression he might be here to study. We didn’t make any plans for the night so to say I’m surprised he found me without so much as a text to ask where I was or what I was doing is an understatement.

“I’m studying. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”