Fake It 'Til You Break It Read online




  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Copyright © 2020 Meagan Brandy

  Dedication:

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Quick Note From The Author

  Ways to Stay Connected

  More by Meagan Brandy

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 Meagan Brandy

  FAKE IT ‘TIL YOU BREAK IT

  Release date: February 5th, 2020

  .

  All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All credit goes to original owner.

  -

  Edited by: My Brother’s Editor

  Proofread by: My Brother’s Editor

  Proofread by: All Encompassing Books

  Cover Designer: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

  Photographer: Michelle Lancaster, www.michellelancaster.com

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  Dedication:

  To the one with many friends who forever feels alone...

  You’re not.

  Hold strong.

  Someone will come and fill your whole world

  as they need you to fill theirs.

  Synopsis:

  Fake.

  That’s what we are.

  That’s what we agreed to be.

  I thought it would be harder, convincing everyone our school’s star receiver was mine and mine alone, but we played our parts well.

  So well, the lines between us began to blur until they disappeared completely.

  The thing about pretending, though, someone’s always better at it, and by the time I realized my mistake, there was no going back.

  I fell for our lie.

  And then everything fell apart.

  It turned out he and I were never playing the same game.

  He didn’t have to break me to win.

  But he did it anyway.

  Chemistry, my least favorite subject, but the class I’ve looked forward to the most since school started last week, and even more so today.

  Finally, we’re being assigned our lab partners, and I know exactly who mine will be.

  Not counting myself, there are only three others left standing, two being uninterested, academically opposed football players while the third is second in our class, also on the team, but possesses the brains and the brawn.

  It’s an obvious choice.

  Mr. Brando looks to his paper, ready to announce another pairing, and I can hardly hold in my grin.

  “Nico Sykes.”

  I step toward Alex only to freeze, my frown cutting to Mr. Brando, who just read off the wrong name!

  “Wait.” I glance from Alex’s tense expression to Nico, already on his way to the lab table. I turn toward Mr. B, keeping my voice low. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t I be with—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there, Ms. Davenport,” he cuts me off. “While I asked each of you to list the person you’d prefer as a partner, I gave no guarantees. So, if you are about to make a judgment call on one of your peers, I suggest you don’t finish your thought. I’m aware you’re a bit of a teacher’s pet, however, in my class, you won’t make, nor influence my decisions,” he states scornfully.

  My ears heat in both anger and embarrassment, but my hair works as a shield to cover it, my expression giving no sign his words meant a damn thing.

  Talk about a judgment call.

  Asshole.

  “Go, Ms. Davenport. Mr. Sykes is seated and ready to go.” He dismisses me, turning to the last two standing.

  Defeated, I head for the back of the classroom where my ‘partner’ has chosen to sit – of course the last space up front wasn’t the one he wanted.

  And ready to go? Please! He hasn’t even opened his backpack.

  Nico is simply sitting there with his elbows on the tabletop, waiting.

  As I approach, he pushes off the cement slab, now lazily leaning against his chair with those eyes, as dark and impassive as always, locked on me.

  I stop in front of him. “Guess we’re stuck with each other all year.”

  His gaze narrows. “Guess we are.”

  When I don’t move, he drapes an arm over the back of my seat, tipping his chin.

  “Sit down, D. I don’t bite without permission.”

  A heavy sigh leaves me as I walk around, dropping beside him. “Sure you do. Third grade, Ms. Fisher’s class, and I’ve got the scar to prove it.” I flip him off with my ring finger, right where his bite mark was left.

  “That’s called leaving my mark. I was smart at eight.”

  “Too bad it didn’t carry over to eighteen, huh?”

  He only stares, not a word spoken, no sign of a functioning train of thought on his flawless face.

  I shake my head, pull out my materials, and set them in front of me.

  Mr. Brando makes his way to the front of the room to go over how the class will work now that we’ve been paired up, but I lose track of what he’s saying when I notice Alex’s attention pointed in my direction.

  He’s focused on Nico, so I peek over to find Nico hasn’t a clue. Or at least he pretends not to as his face is buried in his phone. When I look back, Alex’s stare slides to mine.

  His shoulder lifts in a small shrug, and he nods toward Mr. B as if he doesn’t understand the teacher’s choice either.

  For the last two years, he and I have been partners, and it’s worked perfectly. We put in equal time and effort, and the end result is less stress and a perfect grade.

  This unpredicted switch, though, means I’ll likely have to pull double hours to make up for what, I’m sure, will be a consistently ill-prepared Nico, but hitting the books harder isn’t even the worst part of this.

  Being paired with Nico puts a twist in my plan.

  It’s senior year, and I was finally going to bite the bullet and go full schoolgirl mode on Alex, make my interest obvious since he’s never seemed to catch on. Yes, he typically dates the Round Robin girls, the ones who make their way through all the teams in the
school depending on the season and don’t care about the commitment side, but still. It could happen.

  We’re friends, we run in the same crowd for the most part, and usually go to the same parties. We both want to do well in school and sports and have a good time along the way.

  We would work well together.

  Alex begins to turn to face forward, but suddenly his glare cuts back to my partner.

  In the same second, warm air fans across the hollow of my neck and my body responds to the heat, the knot in my stomach tightening even more when Nico’s unexpected whisper follows.

  “Not that you could be more obvious, but don’t waste your time, D.” His voice is low and raspy. “He’s already chasing tail, Sandra Black.”

  An instant frown forms, and I force my eyes to Nico.

  “Been braggin’ about how he’s got it locked in at practice all week.” He shrugs, focusing back on his phone.

  I glance to Alex again.

  He’s observing Nico, a question I can’t decipher written across his face, and I don’t have much time to try either.

  Mr. Brando walks up behind him, slapping a palm on his table to get his attention.

  Alex turns around while I sit and trip on Nico’s words.

  He’s not one for gossip, or conversation for that matter, so his bothering to mention it must mean it’s true.

  Sandra Black.

  Five-eleven, gorgeous caramel skin, and my competition for this year’s valedictorian, not to mention, the nicest person you’ll ever meet, Sandra Black.

  Awesome.

  I flip open my booklet, about to tell Nico what he can help with when his hand covers mine on top of my paper. My eyes flash to his.

  “I got the answers.” He doesn’t look away as he slides his already completed packet over with his free hand. “You can thank me later.”

  “Thank you?” I deadpan, attempting to tug myself free of his hold, but he presses harder. “For getting one of your fans to do your work for you?”

  He shakes his head, a smirk now playing on his full lips.

  “Nah.” His grip lessens, his fingertips dragging along my skin with their retreat.

  My eyes fall to the contact, a heavy tension tugging at my muscles as I force my gaze back to his, but Nico is no longer looking at me.

  His focus has fallen to my chest, and he takes his sweet time bringing it back, leaning the slightest bit closer as he does.

  My frown deepens.

  “For being the reason lover boy can’t stop slantin’ back.”

  With his last word, an angry, almost annoyed, arrogance slips into his gaze, and I realize I’m being mocked.

  “I don’t need your help getting his attention.”

  “You sure about that? You’re not exactly the forward type.”

  I glare. “Don’t pretend you know me.”

  “Don’t forget, I do.”

  “Did,” I correct in a low hiss. “Past tense.”

  Nico leans forward, his frown sliding between mine with unmistakable tenacity, but his lips remain sealed.

  I eye him a moment, slowly moving my focus back to my paper. “Whatever, I don’t care what you think of me.”

  “Lies.”

  His instant response has my head jerking his way again.

  Now it’s him who glares. “You care what people think, it’s why you’re friendly to everyone when they don’t deserve it. Like Alex Hammons, for example.”

  “It’s called human decency, you should try it sometime, and I didn’t ask your opinion, nor do I care what you think of me or Alex or anyone else for that matter.”

  “You care he’s still lookin’ back?” he quips.

  He is?

  A quiet scoff leaves him, confirming my curiosity isn’t hidden well.

  “’Course you do.” Leaning even closer, a tight scowl in place as he tips his head all cocky like. “Go on, D. Look at him,” he dares. “See if what I’m saying is true, you know you want to.”

  My lips press into a firm line and I’m damn near twitching to know if he’s lying or not, but I cover my interest with a glare while commanding my eyes to my paper. It takes all my strength to keep them there.

  Nico’s low, snide chuckle is proof my struggle isn’t lost on him.

  I kick him under the table when five minutes later, he rasps, “Your boy’s lookin’ again.”

  Asshole.

  “Hey, girl, hey!” my friend Krista announces herself as she drops down at our usual lunch spot, a grassy area in the quad.

  “You’re quite excited to have been given a seven-page essay in English,” my best friend Carley whines, not bothering to open her eyes as she lays there, soaking up the California sun.

  “Oh, girl, that’s not due for another three weeks.” Krista snags a bag of chips from the pile of shit in the middle of us.

  “Meaning you’ll start it in two weeks and three days,” our other friend Macy sasses back, making the four of us laugh.

  “Exactly.” Krista grins. “But no, I’m peppy because I heard from a bird that you, Miss Demi, were paired with hottie McHot Nico Sykes in chem today.”

  Carley’s eyes pop open and she sits up. “Um... what?” She gapes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  I ignore her a minute and talk to Krista. “Does this bird happen to be a six-foot-something quarterback you like to call daddy when no one is around to hear it?”

  Her jaw drops, and she leans over to shove me backward, laughing at the same time. “Yes, bitch, it does, and I told you that in secret!”

  “You told us all that.” Macy rolls her eyes.

  Krista only grins wider. “Yeah, but secret means you don’t say it out loud.”

  I smile and she sticks her tongue out in response.

  “K, back on track. Come on, Demi,” Macy coaxes.

  I shrug, tearing the stem off a strawberry and stuffing it in my mouth. “What do you want me to say, I’m annoyed.”

  “Annoyed?” Macy purses her lips. “Please, don’t lie. Even you can’t be immune to the boy and his every single thing.”

  “Fuck you.” I laugh. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means your vagina must be dead and in need of reviving if not even Nico Sykes gets you going. His fingers alone must be shrimp dick size, and not in a fugly way. If they’re that long, imagine the range of the rest of him!”

  My jaw drops and then a loud laugh leaves me, earning a satisfied grin from her.

  “My vagina is just fine, I assure you, and it has nothing to do with him not being attractive, because duh.”

  Nico is as perfect as his running game, which is flawless.

  He’s tall and broad, muscular but not overly so, more full and strong. He has high cheekbones with perfectly thick lips, dark, sandy color hair with darker, always intense eyes. There’s this taunting look forever staring back, one he wants spotted but never allows you to decrypt.

  He’s far from a typical senior, screams experienced and likely has grown women wondering if he’s legal enough or not. I’m sure the tattoo etched into the inner part of his right arm is answer enough for them.

  He’s ESPN billboard material and he knows it.

  “So, you admit you think he’s hot.” Macy nods, proud. “What’s the problem?”

  “I needed a good partner, one I could trust to do what they say they will.” I shrug. “Everyone knows Mr. Brando is the toughest teacher here, always unorthodox, and I can’t afford to fail. My mom will wring my damn neck if my grades slip and it’ll be back to medication keeps you focused before I can even blink.”

  “Oh please, you’re focused on your own. She has to stop putting all of her screw-ups on your shoulders,” Krista says.

  “She already thinks I’m putting too much time into dance, if I fall behind in this class, who knows what she’ll pull.”

  “Fuck your mom.” Carley frowns.

  “Someone needs to,” Macy mumbles.

  The girls laugh, but my head tugs bac
k in disgust causing them to laugh harder.

  “Okay, but back up.” Carley leans forward. “We know you can’t fail, and we know you’d never allow yourself to, but how do you know Nico is a bad partner?”

  “We’ve always known him to ditch full days, which means he misses whatever’s happening in class, so I have no reason to believe this year will be different, and besides that, have you ever seen him pay attention in a class that isn’t PE?” I joke.

  “Have you ever had him in a class that wasn’t PE?” Carley calls me out on my judgment. “Have you had him in a class at all since junior high?”

  I pause to think, and she raises her brows like an asshole.

  “Whatever.” I shake my head. “Maybe he’s not a crappy student, obviously he’s eligible to play football, so he must keep at least a baseline grade point average, but still. If he isn’t here every day like I am, I’ll have no choice but to carry more of our workload. Not only that, he and I don’t talk anymore, and on the rare occasion we’re forced to, it’s small jibes or he goes straight up mannequin on me.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know what to say?”

  I give her a blank look. “He thinks he’s a candy bag and all girls have his kind of sweet tooth, and when you don’t, you’re as worthy as a wallflower.”

  “I’d take a piece if offered.” Macy nods, her lips pursed.

  I laugh, shaking my head while Krista pats her knee patronizingly.

  “We know, sweetheart, we know,” she teases.

  “It’s not even about Nico, is it?” Carley suspects. “You wanted to be Alex’s partner again.”

  “I’ve been the last two years, so I kind of expected to be, yeah,” I admit. “He wants to be a doctor, like his mom, so I know he’s super focused in science where Nico already had his face in his phone all day today. He didn’t take a single note while I took three pages. I don’t know, I might try talking to the teacher again.”

  “Screw Alex’s pompous ass!” Krista blurts. “He might be good looking, but in a Wahlberg brother kind of way, while Nico is more Mark status, Calvin Klein campaign worthy. Way prettier to look at.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “And he lives right behind you! Think of all the late-night study sessions you could have.” Macy’s eyes widen in excitement.