“Stop looking at me and watch the road, Bash. At least the bus driver doesn’t stare at me whenshedrives.”
“I didn’t realize you were also faking a relationship with your bus driver. Is she aware, or is this a one-sided relationship? Perhaps this is a hobby for you.”
“Yes. I actually spend most of my weekends at the airport hoping random strangers will pull me into their life’s drama so that I can change my whole existence to suit their needs.”
“Ouch. That kind of hurt.”
“You’re tough. You dish it out so you can take it.”
He pulls in front of my apartment and places the car in park. He stares out his driver’s side window and I wonder what’s going on. He’s too quiet and it seems like it takes an eternity for him to speak again. When he finally does, I wish he’d stayed quiet. “Why would you be jealous, Talia?” he whispers. “I don’t understand.”
I lean back in the seat and try not to look at him. “I don’t either.” I’m not lying. I really don’t understand why I reacted the way I did. I was jealous, but I don’t know why. Or maybe I do, but I don’t want to admit it to myself, much less him.
Why does he look at me the way he does? It’s not fair. It’s like he knows I’m hiding stuff on purpose and he’s trying to draw it out of me with smoldering looks.
I wish I could tell him why I ran away from my home, how I got this job, and how confused I feel whenever I’m near him. Would he understand or would he think less of me? I’m not who he thinks I am. Would he like me, therealme, if he knew the truth?
“This…” he says, motioning between us, “…isn’t real. Right?”
“I know that.”
“And yet it bothered you to see me talking to Cherese?”
I shrug. “It bothered you to see me with Stuart.”
He teeters his head as if to say touché. “I have zero romantic feelings for Cherese. I need you to know that.”
“And I have zero romantic feelings for Stuart.”
“I know.”
I run my fingers through my hair and pull at my roots. “Sometimes you make me really frustrated.”
He smirks. “Same.”
“You know what? I bet real relationships work because when people get mad at each other they have a way to release their frustrations.”
He scrubs a hand over his stubbled jaw. He grew it back so quickly. “You mean sex?”
“Yeah. They get mad, bang it out, feel better, and move on.”
“Bang it out? Wow, your past boyfriends must have been overwhelmed by your romantic nature.”
“What boyfriends?” I say with a snicker, picking a piece of lint off my shirt.
“Talia? Please. Look at you. Surely you’ve had boyfriends.”
“If you’re freaking out because you think I’m some kind of virgin, then no. I’ve fucked half of Detroit.”
He sighs heavily. “Thank you for clarifying. I’m relieved to hear that.” He grips the steering wheel tightly and turns his head away from me.
I snicker lightly when I realize he’s bothered by it. I feel the need to explain. “What I mean is that, well… sex aside, you’re actually my first real boyfriend. Except you’re not real, so I’m not sure you count.”
His eyes narrow as he spins his head to regard me. “You’ve never dated anyone before?”
I stare at the ceiling of the car and ponder the question. “Hmm… well, this one time Chris Hendricks brought me tacos when he dropped off his dirty laundry at the laundromat where I was working.”
I smirk and Sebastian angles his body to face me, leaning back against the window. “Chris sounds like a stand-up kind of guy.”
