Free Jenna & Jonah's Fauxmance by Emily Franklin, Brendan Halpin Page A

“Listen Fiel— Aaron . If that is your name. I’m not like you. I can’t do nothing all day. I can’t do nothing pretty much ever. I have to keep busy or I go insane. I’ve been on the go since I was two. And I have to exercise on the small chance that anyone ever wants to photograph me in a bikini again. So I’m running the stairs. Good for the glutes.”
    And down she goes.
    We give each other space for the next day or two. I’m kind of afraid I’m going to say something that sets her off again, and she is, I guess, still mad at me. I read more than one book per day, I take naps, I ignore the trades, Perez Hilton, and TMZ, and I don’t care about any of it.
    Charlie keeps busy, painting three rooms. After the first two, she figured out that she should put tape on the ceiling to avoid getting paint on it when she paints the walls. Even with splotches of paint on the ceiling, though, the rooms are very much improved. She’s picked colors that are bright and vibrant, which fits her personality—well, the vibrant part anyway—and the rooms she’s painted look warm, inviting, and fun.
    On the evening of the third day, she graces me with her presence at dinner, a pasta dish I’ve made with garden vegetables and a can of chickpeas I got at the store in town. Tentatively, she takes a bite. “Whoa. This is really good,” she says.
    “Thanks,” I say. “Hey, the rooms look great, by the way. You’ve really warmed up the place.”
    “Thank you,” she says. We don’t say anything for a minute, but it doesn’t seem like she’s thinking angry, resentful thoughts; she’s just eating in silence.
    Well, I’m not thinking angry, resentful thoughts, and I actually have no idea what Charlie is thinking. What I eventually start thinking is that I wouldn’t mind doing this for a while. With Charlie, I mean. It’s nice to be alone, but it’s also nice to be able to talk to another human being once in a while. There’s something comforting about the knowledge that someone else is doing something in the house. Maybe I like Charlie better when I don’t have to see her all the time. Is that mean? I could probably say the same thing for just about anybody—certainly my parents.
    “You know,” I say, “this is really nice.”
    “Yeah,” Charlie says.
    “The rooms look great, by the way.”
    “You said that already, genius.”
    Did I? She’s got me off balance. “Well. I see. In that case, they’re hideous.”
    “Thank you! I mean, if you actually like the paint job, it pretty much defeats the whole point!”
    She looks mischievous. It’s kind of adorable.
    “So, you spent three days painting just to piss me off?”
    “Well, not just to piss you off, no. But I was kind of hoping it would have that effect.”
    “You don’t like your landlord? I mean, you gotta admit, the rent is very reasonable.”
    Charlie smiles and puts both hands behind her head. She appears to be adjusting her ponytail, but she’s also drawing attention to her world-famous assets. “I guess. The place is kind of a dump, though.”
    “Well, what do you want for nothing? I happen to think the landlord is a helluva guy. Charming, intelligent, good-looking, and an amazing dancer.”
    The sun is dipping into the ocean outside, and the light in here gets dim and yellow. And Charlie really is beautiful. “Yeah. Too bad he’s gay,” Charlie says, flashing a devilish grin at me.
    “What if he wasn’t?” I ask. The question hangs there, and for once in her life, Charlie doesn’t seem to have anything to say.
    She just smiles. And finally she says, “I’ll do the dishes. Thanks for cooking.”
    “Um. Anytime!”
    I go up to bed but find it very hard to sleep. What the hell just happened down there? Or did anything at all happen? Would I be a complete idiot if something happened? Would I be a complete idiot if nothing happened?

9
LIVING WITH YOU, LIVING WITHOUT YOU
     
    Charlie
     
    “You know what we need, Field—I mean,