Chapter Text
“You know how we’re best friends, right?” Van asks, not bothering to have sat down at her desk before letting the rhetorical question hang in the air.
“Absolutely not,” is the reply that immediately greets her.
Van swivels her body around to meet the look of contempt in the brown eyes she’s expecting, smile unwavering. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I don’t like the way you worded that,” she retorts. “I feel like I’m going to end up regretting this.”
“It’s like you don’t even trust me,” Van clicks her tongue, taking a moment to glance at the clock to make sure she still had enough time to convince the other girl into this. “Just hear me out for a second.”
She opens her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in a way that lets Van know that she is definitely not going to enjoy this upcoming rejection, but someone shuffles past and interrupts the thought before it’s articulated.
The distraction provides the perfect opportunity for Van to reach over to clasp her hands, ready to sink to her knees and plead right then and there.
“Jesus, Van-” she tries to get out of the hold, but Van refuses to let go, which leads her to concede with the desperation, “Okay, fine. Tell me what this is all about first. That doesn’t mean I’m going to agree.”
Van’s following grin must be blinding — the reactive wince from the other side implies so. “Thanksgiving is coming up, and you know how my family likes to-”
“Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“And you, of all people, know how my family likes to plan these extravagant parties-”
“Van, I can see where this is going.”
Van squeezes her fists. “Is that a yes?”
“Let me think about it,” her eyes lull to the side in pretend before they pierce back into Van’s. “Are you crazy?”
“Crazy? No.” Van’s attempting her most innocuous look, falling flat when the recipient just so happens to be looking at her like she is crazy.
“Thanksgiving is in a week!”
Van’s hands explode to the side, palms facing upwards in exasperation. “Why do you think I’m trying so hard to get you to agree?”
“You would’ve had a better chance if you asked me before!”
They both know that’s a lie when it leaves her mouth. Van had purposely waited until the last moment (before the last, last moment where she’d have turned Van down because she already made plans beforehand) before planting the bomb. There couldn’t have possibly been better timing.
Van’s fingers lower to tap on her desk, with the knowledge that the sound was going to drive her up the wall to say something else.
More and more people have started to trickle into the seats around them, but there’s still no sign of the professor that would serve as a get-out-of-jail-free card at the moment. Instead, it’s tap, tap, tap, tap, and Van knows that she’s getting to her when the dark brows knit together once again.
It’s not like this is the craziest request Van has ever made, nor is it the craziest request Van has ever made that she’d also agreed to.
Van says so, which elicits a snort.
“I would love to pretend to date you, but is this even a good idea?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
The most non-menacing finger point trophy is awarded then. “You. And me. Dating. We’ve been friends since we were born. And our parents have been setting this up for years. Decades, actually. This is practically an engagement reveal if we show up to that dinner together.”
“That’s kind of what I’m trying to go for. Like, it’s pretty much exactly what I’m trying to go for.” Van lifts a shoulder as to shrug.
“Is something up because what’s with these drastic measures?”
Van purses her lips. “Okay, here’s the deal. When I mean my family has extravagant parties, I’m talking extravagant parties. The whole extended family and everything shows up to these things, and it’s basically to show off which kid did this and what kid did that, and you’re never going to guess what’s happening this year.”
“What?”
“Three people have announced that they’re getting married next year, and I’m the last person out of everyone — that’s twelve different people, if you remember — to not mention bringing a guest. In a romantic way.”
There’s some realization setting into her features, biting at her lip in contemplation. “The drastic measures are to save yourself from embarrassment?”
“Yes!” Van says, loud enough that some people turn to look at them, and she holds up a hand as an apology before lowering her voice. “ Yes, I’m so glad you’re understanding it now. It’s just going to be a one-time thing, I’m telling you. You show up, pretend we’ve fallen in love somehow over the years and then I’ll go ahead and let them know that it didn’t work out and we decided we’re meant to be friends when the Christmas party comes.”
“And what am I going to be getting out of this?”
The classroom door shuts, signaling the beginning of the lecture and the end of their conversation.
Van turns forward in her desk halfway, shooting a knowing glance back. “It’s cute when you pretend to not be selfless, Lottie. I’ll text you the details later.”
“Do I have to remind you that your parents hate me?” Tai holds her hands up in an X, declining the idea the moment it’s brought up. “Well, I’ve seen your mom maybe like three times in my life, but I hope your dad knows that the feelings he has for me are mutual.”
“Fuck my dad,” Nat scoffs, putting out her cigarette on the marbled table. A couple of years ago, she figured an ashtray would’ve been a useless purchase that made her look old and one that practically screamed that she had smoker lungs to anyone she bothered to invite over. Those numbers were dwindling down as the months went by — she’d ridden her high last summer when she and Taissa had signed up to be each other’s roommates for the freshmen year.
Tai exhales a laughter-like noise. “I can’t say I disagree… but seriously? What would bringing me even do for you?”
“For one,” she tosses her crushed cigarette into the trash, “I’d have someone to talk to for the whole day. And for two, my dad’s been pestering me about how everyone else is getting married left and right yet I’m still slutting around in college wasting my life away.”
Nat’s been accustomed to the bimonthly check-ups. He likes to say that he’s simply “checking in” with his only daughter, but she’s long ago started to tune out of the lecture podcast he’s adamant about hosting with her.
“Does he know you’re, like, twenty?”
Nat rolls her eyes. “Yes, and he also knows that my seventeen-year-old cousin just posted her proposal on Instagram last week.”
“And you’re supposed to be the weirdo in the family?”
“Ding, ding, ding.”
“We’re not supposed to be engaged, right? Just showing up together?” Tai asks, and the expression on her face lets Nat know that she’d planned a future that didn’t include a rock on her finger before a diploma.
Nat nods. “Yeah. Apparently, all of the kids are bringing someone. I’ve got no excuse. I’d just feel even more out of place than I already do with those people.”
Tai opens up her bottle, gurgles water around in her mouth for a moment and then swallows. Hard. “Am I not the worst person for you to drag along? Is nobody on Tinder up for this?”
“Actually, you’re the best.” The incredulous look directed at Nat makes her elaborate on her reply. “My dad knows you, so he’d believe it. It’s not like he never accused us before, either. Also, I don’t have to give you trivia to memorize because we’re, y’know, best fucking friends.”
“Aw,” Tai places a hand on her heart. “Cute.”
Nat doesn’t know why Tai bothers with the dramatics. Okay, so maybe she rarely verbalized the status of their relationship, but what’s the point of labels if you’ve been with someone since elementary school and were willing to be beside them in your coffin?
When she realizes she hasn’t been given another X of an arm gesture, there’s a twinge of hope. “You’ll do it?”
“I had plans with family,” Tai starts. At the crestfallen expression on Nat’s face, she snorts. “Key word is had. I’m sure they’ll consider this to be a respectable reason to be exempt from it. Thanksgiving leftovers last for weeks, too, so I won’t be missing out.”
“You’ve just saved my life.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time. Also, I kind of want to see all of your cousins before I die. It’s been on my bucket list.”
Nat raises an eyebrow. “Um, okay. Why?”
“You’re always talking shit about them,” Tai shrugs.
“I talk shit about everyone.”
“And I’ve seen those people, too. Maybe I’m trying to reach a quota.”
“You’re so weird.”
Tai raises a finger to flip her off. “And I’m your pretend girlfriend for the holidays, so I’d watch your mouth before you’re left stranded all by yourself.”
Nat dreads the possibility of not showing up at that all-day Thanksgiving gathering without Tai on her arm. It was bad enough every year prior, considering that nobody really liked or bothered to care about Nat, but that was during a time when people weren’t growing up and announcing their engagements on social media before they’d even graduated. She presses her fingers to her temples, warding off the migraine that’s associated with her flesh and blood.
“Jesus, Nat, I’m just kidding.”
Nat waves her off, shaking her head. “No, I know. I was just thinking about reincarnating into a sane family in my next life.”
Tai chews her lip, forehead creased in thinking. “I’ll let you know the next time my parents have sex so you can start your plan nine months after that.”
Nat recoils with her words. “You’re so fucking gross. How do you even think of that?”
“Pure wit,” she’s fighting back a smile, unable to get her sentence out without snorting.
“Don’t say shit like that at the party.” A beat. “Wait, maybe it’s better that you do. We could get out of there faster if we’re kicked out. Keep saying shit like that.”
“Don't be fucking stupid. I can live with your dad hating me, but not the rest of my future in-laws.”