I clear my throat, looking away. “Grand larceny.”
“Grand larceny?” She spits out a bite of food in surprise.
“It was an accident.”
She blinks. Blinks again. Mouth agape.
“How does one accidentally commit grand larceny?”
“By being shit-faced drunk and thinking you’re throwing a party on your parents’ yacht, only to crash said yacht, then realize it is in fact not your family’s.”
“Your family owns a freaking yacht?”
“And a private jet. More cars than anyone possibly needs. As well as estates all over the world.”
“You say that like it disgusts you.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed the fringe benefits, but things don’t make up for the lack of a real family.”
“Oh.” She plays with hair again. I notice chipped red polish on the ends of her nails. “That’s really kind of…”
“Pathetic for me to complain about? I know. I’m lucky that I’ve never had to worry about money.”
“Actually,” she frowns, my eyes zeroing in on her full pillowy lips, “I was going to say it’s sad.”
I pick up a fry, tearing it into three separate pieces. “Poor little rich boy, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just fishing for sympathy. Economic status doesn’t guarantee happiness. Horrible people just exist.”
“Aka, money doesn’t buy happiness?”
Her lips twitch into a real smile and I count that as a total victory. “Let’s move on to other questions.”
“Good idea.” I clear my throat. “Are you on birth control?”
She chokes on a bite of food. That question isn’t actually on my list, I’m just an ass and wanted to see her reaction.
“How is that any of your business?”
“If we decide to fornicate, obviously.”
She snorts, wiping her mouth on a napkin. “You did not just use the word fornicate.”
“What would you prefer? Knocking boots? Bumpin’ uglies? A bit of the old in and out? The no-pants dance? Or, my personal favorite,” I grin triumphantly as her face reddens, “slime the banana.”
“You … you…” She flounders at a loss for words.
“Are very fuckable, I know.”
“No, no!” She wags a finger at me. “That was not what I was going to say. And there will be no sex happening between us,” she swings that same finger back and forth from her to me, “because this relationship is entirely fake, need I remind you.”
I rub my jaw. “Can you seriously look at this face and not want to fuck me?”
Her eyes threaten to bug out of her head. “I’m leaving.” She wipes her mouth with a napkin and reaches for her wallet. “Thanks for paying my tuition, and I owe you one, but this isn’t it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I chant, placing my hand over hers. She gives me a death glare and I quickly pull my hand back. “I was kidding, I’m sorry. I have a weird sense of humor. I’d tell you I’ll work on it, but there’s no changing me at this point. Please, Van, I need you.”
I slap my hands together in a prayer position, holding them beneath my chin. My lower lip pouts out.
She stares at me, perhaps weighing my sincerity, before she sighs and puts her wallet back in her bag. “Fine, but no joking about having sex with me. It makes me feel like a prostitute.” She shudders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, if that’s what you want to do, you do you girl, but that ain’t me.”
I try not to grin. I don’t think Vanessa is aware of how amusing and unassumingly funny she is.
“I’ll do my best. Unfortunately, many of my jokes are sexual in nature. Take it with a grain of salt.” She looks like she’s ready to reach across the table and slap me, so I decide to quickly change the subject. “Next question, when’s your birthday? As your boyfriend, I should know your birthday.”
“Fake,” she reminds me unnecessarily, “and it’s June twenty-fourth. I’m a Cancer, since I figure that question is probably on your list too.”
“March third,” I answer for myself, “and Pisces.” Pursing my lips, I look over my questions. “What’s your favorite cookie?”
“How is that important?”
“Because I like to bake cookies, naturally I’d know your favorite by now.”
“Oh.” She plays with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around her index finger. “Snickerdoodle.”
“Same.” I grin. “Look at us, we have so much in common.”
“Mhmm,” she hums doubtfully.
“What about hobbies?”
She frowns, a fry hovering halfway to her mouth. “Between school and work I don’t really have time for hobbies. I used to garden with my mom.”
“Interesting.” I make a note on my paper. “Mine is baseball and obviously baking.”
“You weren’t kidding about the cookies, were you?”
I scoff. “I would never kid about baked goods.”
She pulls her hair over one shoulder. “This fake relationship … exactly how far are we taking this? Like am I just supposed to pretend in front of your parents or?” She waits for me to elaborate.
“We need to keep up the charade with my friends and on campus. I’ll tell them that we started going out before break and decided to make it official.”
“So … the whole campus is going to think I’m dating you?”
“Is that a problem?” I scratch my head.
“It’s just you’re popular and I’m not.”
“So?”
“Teddy,” she scoffs. “We come from completely different worlds. Both on and off campus.”
“Again, so? I know you don’t know me well, yet, but you will, and I don’t give a shit what other people think of me or who I’m with, even if it’s not real. People are always going to talk. But that doesn’t mean you have to listen.”
Her lips thin. “You have a good point.”
I tap my forehead. “It’s not entirely air up here.” Consulting my list again, I ask, “What are you studying?”
Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to laugh. “You’re taking this really serious, aren’t you? And it’s communications.”
“I have to, there’s no telling what my dad will ask about you. I need to be prepared. What do you plan to do with a communications degree?”
“I’d like to get into public relations in some way.” Leaning over the table, she whisper-hisses, “Why do I feel like you’re interrogating me for a job position, not getting to know me?”
“Sorry.” I give her a sheepish smile, feeling my ears turn red. “I don’t really know exactly how else to do this and I’ve never even had a real girlfriend—”
“Hold up.” She literally raises a hand, silencing me. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
I snort. “No. I went to an all-boys school growing up and don’t get me wrong, we all found ways to meet up with girls, but I didn’t date. After I came here I…” I flounder, trying to find the right words but not wanting to stick my foot in my mouth in front of her.