Not after we finally got to spend some alone time together as a real couple, away from all the fake.
Away from everyone.
Thompson is suddenly grabbing Krista by the sweater and tugging her back. “Nu-hu. You’re not gettin’ hurt, girl.”
“Then stop them!” She starts to cry.
Thompson glances past her, wincing when Nico lifts Trent from the ground, punching him square in the jaw, not the slightest attempt to block it.
Thompson looks to Krista. “He’s got it comin’ and he knows it. Leave them. I’ll step in if it gets nasty.”
Nico nails him in the gut and Trent groans, stumbling around and slamming into the side mirror a foot from where Thompson stands.
Krista screams again, gaining Trent’s attention.
Concern lines his eyes and he lifts his hands to Nico, stepping toward the fence to put some space between them.
“That’s enough. You’re scaring the girls—”
“Don’t,” Nico seethes, shoving at him again, his shoulder hitting the metal wiring. “Talk about her like she’s yours to worry about and I’ll break your fucking hand, quarterback.”
“Nico, what’s your problem?!” Krista fights to get past Thompson again, but he holds her still.
“Say it. Right now, to my fucking face, Trent.” Nico creeps closer to him.
Trent’s eyes fly my way before going back to Nico’s, pleading. “Come on, man.”
“You were man enough to do it, not man enough to say it out loud?”
Trent only shakes his head, leaning against the fence, blood dripping from his lip.
“Don’t act like you aren’t proud, asshole. Say it!” Nico’s jaw flexes repeatedly, but I can’t see his face. “Now, Trent.”
Trent’s eyes are solemn, regret slipping over him. “All right,” Trent relents. “Dem and—”
“Enough of the nickname! It’s one letter, motherfucker!”
Trent sighs, at a loss.
There is no calming Nico or hoping he calms himself.
All Trent can do is lay it out and all I can do is hope we don’t end as quickly as we began.
Trent does as he’s asked. “Demi and I slept together, but it was a long time ago.”
“Fuck, man.” Nico’s hands fly from him, sliding over his head and folding behind his neck.
He blows a harsh breath into the air, and my lungs feel the loss.
“How was I supposed to tell you? You’ve—”
“Wanted her since before you had her and told you all about it?” he shouts. “Yeah, I fuckin’ have.”
Whoa, what?!
“It was two years ago, and yes, I should have told you when it happened, but you stopped talking to her after everything with your dad, and the threat from—”
“Watch it,” Nico warns.
Trent’s body sags, and he tries to reason with him. “I didn’t know she was still inside you, man, and I didn’t realize where the two of you were headed. I thought you dancing with Miranda would have—”
He cuts off, his eyes darting to Krista and then back to me.
“No.” Nico shakes his head, running his hands through his hair. “Are you for real, man?”
“Nic,” he says quietly, walking toward him. “It’s not—”
“Not what?” Nico shouts, punching into the crossed metal of the fence on the side of Trent’s head. “Not what I think? Then why would my best fuckin’ friend purposely go behind my back and try to fuck what I had going by inserting drama between us? And this on top of the bullshit you just stood here and fuckin’ told me? Let’s hear it, asshole. How the fuck is it I’m supposed to take this?”
“Trent...” Krista starts forward, and this time Thompson moves to the side. “What’s he talking about?”
Trent’s face grows taut. “I asked Demi’s dance coach to switch us, make Nico her partner and me Demi’s for the practice part. I knew she’d agree or might have already planned to do it herself.” Trent glances from Krista to Nico. “I was only trying to speed up the inevitable.”
“Inevitable?” Nico laughs, but there isn’t a hint of humor in it. “That’s my girl—”
“She wasn’t!” Trent explodes. “That’s the thing you kept forgetting, Nic!”
Krista gasps as my body stiffens.
What the hell?
The fall of Nico’s shoulders is instant and everyone is quiet a long moment.
“That what this is about?” Nico pushes. “I asked you, point blank. You said no, was that a lie? You want my girl? Or am I supposed to say you want her again?” he spits harshly.
“I can’t do this,” Krista cries and runs off, Macy and Carley following behind her.
“Krista!”
“Krista don’t leave! It’s not how it sounds!” Trent shouts urgently. “Fuck!”
Nico scoffs, slapping a coffee cup off the edge of the truck, and glares at the sky.
Krista running off is where Trent draws his line.
He scowls, taking a small step toward Nico who stands just as tall. “I don’t want to fight with you, man, I love you and I’m fucking sorry. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I know I deserve everything you’ve got to throw at me right now, trust me, I get that, but the shit you’re saying is way off base, and I can’t stand here and take it because it’s fucking with my relationship. My real relationship,” he broaches.
My mouth drops open.
He knew this was fake?
“I can’t allow that, so I’m going after my girl.” Trent takes a few slow steps away before breaking out in a full run.
Thompson clamps a hand on my shoulder and walks off next and soon it’s just me and Nico.
Nico drops his forearms on the hood of his truck and hangs his head between them. “Go away, Demi. I can’t look at you right now.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t care. Go.”
“Just like that? You don’t want to talk about this, ask questions? Explain how he knows this was fake?”
Nico scoffs, then lifts his head. His face is blank, eyes hardly open. “Don’t even. And what kind of questions, D? ‘Cause I’m not interested in the positions you fucked my best friend in, or how long it lasted, or where it took place.” He blinks carelessly. “You were right, a fake boyfriend doesn’t need to know a damn thing. You do you, D.” He pushes off the hood, and steps toward me, but only so he can glide by. “I think I’ll find Sandra. Take that hall pass you offered before.”
“No you won’t.” A heavy pressure weighs in my chest, and I spin to face him. “You won’t because you know you’ll lose me if you do.”
His lip curls. “What makes you think I care?”
“Neek... stop,” I whisper. “We’re past this – no more tug of war. I want you and you know it. So just... stop.”
His face is a picture of rage, but there’s anguish in his eyes. “You fucked Trent.”
“A long time ago.”
“And you never felt the need to tell me this?”
“I didn’t think about it!” flies from me, and a wave of nausea rolls in behind it. “When we talked about my not being a virgin, I thought you were mocking me, using it as a way to talk crap or something. I figured he had told you after it happened. I had no clue he kept it to himself until later.”