Free Fakers by Meg Collett

water back on.
     
    Kyra waited impatiently for Stevie’s answer.
Maybe she hadn’t known Stevie that long, but she felt comfortable
giving Stevie hell for not answering her door. She wasn’t really
mad at her friend, but it felt good to vent.
     
    Stevie: Glad you don’t stink anymore.
What’s the problem?
    Kyra: Oh, nothing too major. JUST THE
ENTIRE CREW SEEING ME BUTT NAKED!!!! They LAUGHED at me.
    Stevie: Assholes. You probably gave
them all hard-ons. Let me make it up to you. We’ll go out tonight
and party.
    Stevie: I know you’re about to say
you don’t drink, but you’ve had a shit-tastic day. Live a
little.
    Kyra: Okay, fine.
    Stevie: Did HALE see you naked?
Meow!
     
    Kyra rolled her eyes. Of course Stevie would
think that was hot. Maybe it would’ve been if the entire crew
hadn’t been with him. She blew a drying lock of hair out of her
face.
     
    Kyra: Yes. He did. NOT COOL.
    Stevie: You say that now. But he’s
probably picturing your naked body right as we type.
     
    A knock came on Kyra’s door, making her
gasp. “Kyra? You in there?”
    It was Hale, conjured by Stevie’s text. Kyra
covered her head and hid under her covers, but her phone beeped and
gave her away. “Come on. I heard your phone. I know you’re in
there,” he called through the door. “Can I come in?”
    “Go away!” she shouted, the sound muffled
from under her covers.
    He sighed. The door groaned, and Kyra
wondered if he was propped against it. She pictured his hard,
muscular body pressed against the wood and realized she really
needed an intervention.
    “Look, I’m really sorry about earlier.”
    “You laughed at me!” she shouted back.
    Hale stifled another laugh. She reared up in
bed and threw her pillow at the door. It hit its target with a
satisfying thud. “I’m sorry about that too,” he said, muffling
another laugh.
    “You’re laughing now!”
    “No, I’m not. You just caught us by surprise
is all,” he said.
    “Whatever, Hale. Just go away,” Kyra lay
back down in bed and covered her head.
    “Okay,” he said, “but I really am sorry.
Again.”
    He didn’t sound sorry, she thought. She
grimaced and buried her head even deeper. After thirty minutes
under the covers, Kyra found that she wasn’t the napping kind. She
got out of bed and worked until the house fell silent and the sun
began to set.
    She rose from the floor and stretched her
back, thinking that she really needed to get a working desk. Stevie
had texted and told her to meet her at her house in an hour. Kyra
heaved a sigh to fortify herself before she started getting
ready.
    She settled on a sheer shirt with a bright
pink tank top underneath and jean shorts. Her hair had dried in her
natural beachy waves, so she let it be. She took more time with her
makeup, feeling like she needed some armor for tonight, and she
craved to look pretty. No way would anybody be laughing at her
tonight. The smoky colors of her eye shadow set off the bright blue
of her irises. She swiped on some lip gloss and grabbed her
favorite wedges before she left the house.
    Stevie was waiting on her front porch,
wearing cute jeans and a peplum top with high heels. “You look
hot!” she called as she skipped to Kyra with a huge grin plastered
on her face. She was drunk.
    “I guess I’m driving?” Kyra asked, rolling
her eyes good-naturedly.
    “If you don’t mind.” Stevie was already
heading for Kyra’s Jeep.
    They talked about the fiasco today as Kyra
drove them into town. Stevie apologized again for not answering the
door, but she didn’t sound too regretful since it was so hilarious
to her. The sting was starting to wear off, so Kyra could finally
laugh about it too. Stevie directed them to a bar on the corner of
the main street in town, which was lit up with lights in the trees
like it was Christmas.
    Loud music flowed out to the street as they
got out the car. People milled about out front, smoking and
flirting. Inside was dimly lit, and televisions played