Faking It

Chapter 37: Thanksgiving

Four days later, we pulled up to my parents' decidedly non-mansion in Theo's extremely extra car. It had been four days of incessant questions—did he need a suit for dinner? Okay fine, if not a suit, then what? Should he bring his sexy pyjamas for sleeping on the couch? Oh, he gets a whole spare room? Great, and what were my parents' and siblings' names? Was my brother bringing someone too? What's on the menu? What time should we arrive? Can he stay until Sunday? What was my home address so he could plan a route?

I might've found his excitement endearing if I wasn't already drowning in self-doubt. Now that I knew what kind of family he came from, it was painfully obvious that mine was entirely different. We didn't host expensive charity galas. We didn't wear tuxedos. The fanciest things at our Thanksgiving dinner were the party cracker paper crowns that Dad always insisted we wear for the duration of the meal.

As if the worry that he'd laugh at my pathetically average family wasn't enough, there was the fact that the first guy I was ever bringing home wasn't even a real boyfriend. It was one thing to pretend in front of my classmates and new friends, but something entirely different to bring him home to my family. Jake knew about everything that was on Instagram, but he didn't know about the ruse, and pulling off the charade in person was seeming more and more impossible.

That was why, when Theo's engine finally cut, I gulped. It was too weird, sitting in his ridiculous car beside my brother's dented Prius and my parents' blue Volvo, and it was only about to get weirder the second we set foot inside.

"Okay, last refresher," Theo said, unbuckling himself. "Your brother's Jake, your parents are Sue and Peter, and Jake's boyfriend is..."

"Simon," I said, staring at the front door like it was about to eat me alive.

"Hey." Theo touched my leg. "What's wrong?"

I swallowed, then admitted, "I don't know if I can lie to them."

His shoulders fell, but he eyed the house and said, "Well, if you want me to just drop you and go—"

"No," I said quickly. "I just...don't lay it on too thick, okay? My mom's been dreaming of me bringing a boyfriend home, and it's going to gut her when we're broken up by Christmas."

"Ellie." He waited for me to look at him. That calm, open softness was all over his face again, and that damned something did a somersault in my stomach. "Do you trust me?"

I inhaled, considering it and trying not to think of the last time we'd spoken face-to-face in his car like this. "Yeah."

He smiled, a crooked, addictive thing. "Then trust me."

And just like that, he was out of the car, calling out a greeting to Jake, who I hadn't noticed was now standing in the open front door. Mortified that he might've witnessed my cold feet, I hastily unbuckled and climbed out.

"Hey, Jake," I called, as Theo fished our bags out of the trunk, alongside the massive, ridiculous flower arrangement he'd insisted on bringing for my mom. I'd tried to tell him that she prided herself on her Thanksgiving tablescapes, so she'd already have an intricately themed centerpiece, but he'd refused to show up to a holiday dinner without a hostess gift.

"Hey, El." Jake eyed Theo's car, then Theo himself, then fixed me with a wide-eyed look that promised a bajillion questions. "And this must be my sister's new boyfriend."

Part of me twisted miserably at the lie, but Theo gamely extended his free hand. "Theo Ellerby. And you must be Jake."

Jake ushered us in, his eyes dancing beneath the carefully groomed sweep of his red hair. Amusement lurked in the polite smile he flashed whenever Theo looked his way, but the sly looks he darted at me had me dreading that he could already see right through our little charade. He'd been able to tell when I was lying ever since we were little, and I doubted that had changed.