The waiter pours more water into my glass before my father starts talking about stocks. I fucking hate the stock market. I kind of want to scoop my eyes out with the dessert spoon but that would definitely cause a scene.

There are a few reporters and paparazzi hovering outside while we eat, which makes me feel super self-conscious because what if they catch me putting lobster into my mouth midway? I look over to Mike who acts like they aren't flashing pictures at us through a window and I wish I could be the same way. I'm not exactly sure who the reporters are here to see, it could be any of our parents.

My mom is a super popular TV show host. You would think hosting a television show sounds fun, but I've spent way too many times at my mom's set as a kid to know that television is a bitch.

My dad is a stockbroker, so obviously the paparazzi aren't as interested in him. He's a damn good one, or so I've heard, but not a household name. Mike's dad is the states current football coach, not as well known as my mom but still pretty impressive.

Don't even get me started on Mike's mom though. Winner of Miss USA twenty something years ago and total tabloid figure even at the age of forty-four, Jackie Marcello was a force to be reckoned with. Despite still looking about twenty-five, I knew her age because the woman had her own Wikipedia page for God's sake, she was also the heiress to the Marcello family fortune. I was practically sitting with modern royalty.

Our dads take up most of the conversation during dinner, but I don't mind. Not after I finally convince the cute waiter to spike my drink during one of my bathroom breaks. It hadn't been that hard, just let him cop a feel for a bit, and that was all there was to it.

Mike sends me a knowing glance at the clear liquid in my glass that's no longer water. I wink at him before our moms start doing that annoying thing they love to do when they think we don't notice. I can hear them fanning themselves over their dessert about us. By us I mean Mike and I, which kind of makes me internally cringe. I seriously try not to listen to their bad whispering, but frankly I'm starting to think the cute waiter watered my vodka down.

Not fair since he got a feel of the girls for a good five minutes. The best five minutes of his life by his face expression.

"Aren't they just adorable, Cathy?" Mike's mom leans over towards mine and then sends me a knowing smile. I smile in response but it feels lopsided on my face and awkward.

"I always told you they'd end up together." My mom gushes. It almost makes me wanna gag as much as the idea of being Chace's first lady. I don't know why I decide to remember his annoying retort, but I shake it off when the waiters finally clear our table.

 "Are you kids going out tonight?" Mike's mom says. Geez, can the lady make it any easier for us to escape together? I kind of want Mike to say yes, because I'm starting to realize how much I need to go out. With the exception of the night before, I've been laying in my bed at night thinking.

It's always a bad thing when I decide to give up sleep in exchange for my own thoughts. I need to stop thinking soon, because I've been starting to get depressed lately and there is no way I'm paying my shrink a visit. It's not like my parents don't pay enough attention to me or anything, although I'm not really sure what normal parents do for their kids. People don't actually sit down and have dinner together at home like on TV, right? It's probably something producers come up with that doesn't really happen in real life and just boosts ratings. Nah, my parents always give me what I need, especially my space, which is enough.

I've always had this tugging feeling in my chest, but I don't spend a lot of time analyzing it with care because the minute I start to pay attention to it is the moment I start doing stupid shit.

By stupid shit I'm not talking about letting Luke Garley motorboat me in the locker rooms in the middle of second period, I'm talking about doing things like crying and feeling kind of hopeless.

I send Mike puppy dog eyes, but he seems to ignore them when he tells his mom that we don't have any plans for the night. It takes our parents a few minutes to say their goodbyes even though we're all pretty much going back to the same place, just a few feet away. That's when it happens.

Ever so gently all four of them turn towards Mike, and me, including our dads, waiting. Mike starts looking anxious like he always does when we have to make a display of affection in front of them. I save him the hassle and wrap my arms around him in a friendly hug that hopefully looks cute and romantic. His strong arms let me go, right after I smell his fruity scent. I know how ironic, he even smells fruity. It was all in the signs!

Finally, with pleased smiles, we all walk out of the restaurant. I kind of have this nagging feeling as I sit in the backseat of our car, after avoiding most of the flashing cameras. I suddenly want my parents to ask me something, anything. When has the silence ever been this discomforting? I realize my parents aren't talking to each other either, which is a sharp contrast to the conversation we had during dinner. Normally I would probably head over to Mike's, since he's always known how anxious I get, but he ignored my puppy eyes at dinner and I'm still annoyed.

We all get home without a word being exchanged, which is fine with me towards the middle of the ride when the buzz of the watered down alcohol starts to settle in. But it's still weird because when my parents aren't talking to me, they're talking to each other.

The feeling follows me the next day from the minute I wake up. I can't let it get to me, so I spend most of the school day sending flirty glances at Michael Wishfield. He's on the football team and I know his parents are loaded, they have to be if they can pay his tuition here. He's got nice blonde hair and the guy knows how to dress, so I decide to go for it.

I end up slipping him my number during our last period together while I'm walking out of class. I don't bother giving him a second glance since I know for a fact he'll call. And I'm proven right later on in the day when he does just that and I end up inviting him over because I know my parents won't be home.

I'm hooking up my bra from the back, still giddy from the after sex high, when Michael finishes zipping himself back up. I know it sounds like I'm a slut, but I'm really not. I just like to have a good time, but it's not like I choose just anyone to have it with. I'm a little loose, but not completely pathetic.

That's the thing about sex, I don't even like the actual act. I mean, sometimes it's good but most of the time it's not that impressive. It's the things that happen before the sex, the touching and kissing, and the stuff that goes down after that makes me feel high. So high like I'm riding on a cloud and no one can stop me because I'm desirable and invincible.

I'm humming a song to myself while I finish dressing, until it drowns on me that I'm not actually that happy. In fact, I'm kind of starting to feel like a worn out balloon that just got popped and it's shards are breezing to the ground. Plus, Michael won't stop talking.

Ugh the boy can talk a girl's ear off come to think of it, he didn't shut his mouth once during the sex either. He definition of talking dirty was kind of annoying too. At one point he grunted something about how he was gonna d*ck me down good, which now I'm starting to realize means the guy used his d*ck as a verb.

"I think you should start heading out. My parents will be home soon." I say this nonchalantly, fluffing my hair up in front of my vanity to get the sex look out of it.

"Alright," He finally shuts it and starts in the direction of my doorway.

"Can I call you?" He says right before he crosses out of my room. I want to roll my eyes at him because he's obviously not aware of my protocol. Also, doesn't he know I'm dating Mike? Everyone knows, someone must have not given him the memo. I mean, I did sleep with him, but he had to have known it was just a hook-up. Meaningless, to be forgotten, because I had a boyfriend. A fake one, but still. 

"I don't think that's a good idea, and you should really go." I use my hands to half push him out. I almost think he's gonna argue but he just half nods and heads in the direction of our grand staircase.

I end up sitting on my bed with my hands balled up on my lap. I lied about my parents coming home. They won't be back until later on in the night since my mom has a live show taping and my dad is working late at the office.

Having nothing to do, I jog downstairs towards the kitchen where Magdalene is busy watching one of her shows on the flat screen TV poised over one of the kitchen counters.  She's cooking too, double tasking it and all, but she still notices when I walk into the room.

"Is the boy gone?" She asks almost too casually. Magdalene has been with us since before I was born, which is a really long time, so I get that she sometimes wants to mother me, but I'm really not in the mood to have her scold me.

It's nice to know she cares, but she's not the person who's supposed to be showing it.

"It was just a friend." I defend anyway because I'm just a tad bit embarrassed. I usually don't bring my hook ups to my house, but I hope that in some way Magdalene can realize that I'm having a really crappy day.

She lets it go, thankfully, so I pull out a huge carton of Oreo ice cream from the fridge and a big fat spoon to go with it from a nearby drawer.  I spend the rest of the day eating that ice cream and watching cheesy romance movies from the eighties. The plotlines are so bad and the acting is sometimes cringe worthy, but they're my guilty pleasure.

I know Mike won't ask me to go out with him today because he has football practice on Wednesdays. Mike told me once that he doesn't actually like football all that much, but that it makes his dad happy and he's pretty good at it anyway. He also like all the built shirtless eye candy he gets to see in the locker rooms, he told me that too. But, that's the thing about Mike, he's always making sacrifices for his parents, even more than me. I know that he lives for his father's approval, especially when it comes to joining the pros and making a football career for himself.

Me, I don't really know what my parents want me to do to make them proud aside from dating Mike and that's practically a given. I start to wonder how long this is going to last, me and Mike, our little act.

The Oreo chunks in my ice cream get lodged in my throat when I wonder if I'll have to really marry Mike one day. How fucked up would it be if we married each other and saw other people? At little bit less fucked up than him seeing Jake and me staying forever alone, my inner voice mentions. What about kids? Will we have to have kids or will it be like in the old ages where I have kids with someone else and they carry Mike's name and shit?

The feeling only intensifies the next day when we give Jake a visit. I walk into the same old routine, where both guys disappear by the middle of the visit and don't come out towards the end. The worst thing is that Chace is more annoying than usual, taunting me and trying to get me more into the videogame we're playing. It's as if he knows I have something bothering me and is running a campaign to annoy the hell out of me.

Eventually he pauses the game unexpectedly before shifting his body in my direction. He's kind of on the lanky side, but not in a skinny way, more like as in future fit lumberjack way. He's got super broad shoulders despite the fact that I know he's a total dork and never plays any sports, except the virtual kind. Just picturing his future beard and flannel shirts, along with his love of carpentry makes me giggle without wanting to.

"What's so funny, Fugly?" He asks with his eyes narrowing. I don't dare tell him that he'll make a sexy lumberjack because, well, gag. I just simply shrug my shoulders and put my eyes back on the screen.

"You need a bathroom break or something?" I finally ask when I realize that he has no intention of putting the game back on.

"Fugly, I can't help but notice that your head's in the game, but your heart's in the song." He says this like it's the deepest shit coming from the depths of his soul, which earns an eye roll from me.

"Forget being the president of Moronville, I'm pretty sure you're co-presiding over Dork land too." I tell him giving him a mock pity glance.

"Excuse me, but I happen to be the epitome of cool." His reply earns him a snort from me, expecially after he crosses his arms over his chest marking his point.

"Whatever, don't act like you didn't also know where that line came from." He says with a hoity sniff that makes me crack a smile no matter how hard I try. I do, High School Musical. 

"I'm not the one who just quoted a Disney movie." I make a good point and he knows it because he drops it.

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" His tone throws me off because he sounds kind of serious for a change. It freaks me out so I focus my eyes on the practically dead screen.

"I'd rather have my eyes gauged out, but thanks." My voice sounds flat because I don't want him to think that I actually thought about telling him. I feel the other side of the couch dip in and out while he gets comfortable again and the screen flickers back to the game. Surprisingly I feel a little better when I start to play again, enough to whoop his ass at Fifa twice. The dark anxiety surges back later that night, but at least it was gone for a little while.

The following day at school those thoughts are still swirling through my head. That paired with my growing mood anxiety and I'm completely close to climbing over the edge to emotional crazy land. I need to go out tonight. I need it so bad its kind of sad. This morning my mom left to film early and it was just me and my dad, and Magdalene too, but it was horrible. He kissed my forhead before walking out of the room and I had to force myself not to hack up the scrambled eggs I was in the middle of digesting.

Mike is sitting at our usual table with the rest of the football players. Michael tries to catch my eye, but no way am I going to give him a second glance. Lucky for me the guys are talking about a party going down at Luke Garley's house. Three years later and he's officially become the party God after his initiation ritual.

"We all know Jacey's gonna be there, right?" The linebacker Derek gives me a knowing smile.

"Damn straight." I say because it's true that there's no way I'm missing that party.

"Maybe we'll have a repeat of sophmore year's striptease." Derek brings up with a pervy grin. So that's how the money got in my bra that night. I make sure my expression doesn't let him know that I really had no clue what I did that time so many years ago.

"Alright, guys. That's enough." Mike scolds, shooting Derek a narrowed eyed look. That's another plus about our fake relationship, everyone thinks I'm dating Mike but all of the guys I've been with when I've supposedly been dating Mike have never said a word to him. I know because if they had Mike would have told me. All talk about me ceases and the boys turn to football. I zone them out when they start talking about plays and stuff.

I finally get home in time to have dinner in the kitchen with Magdalene. She makes Alfredo with broccoli and it's the most delicious thing I've tasted in all my life, and I tell her so. She blushes and tells me to stop buttering her up, but I take a second helping of it anyway to make her loosen up for what I'm bound to come home like tonight. 

Both of my parents are working late tonight, but I've already texted my mom about my plans with Mike when I finish dressing. We're going to chill at Jake's house for a little bit before we head out to the party. I would go by myself but Mike knows I can get kind of tipsy and shouldn't be behind a wheel. My judgment is crap when I'm drunk.

Mike picks me up right on time and I wave at Magdalene who stares at me from the doorway with a narrowed gaze.

Maybe I won't even come home tonight and save her the hassle, I think, before we zoom out of view.

Second chapter! Thank you guys so much for reading, commenting, voting, etc :)