Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Fourteen

FOURTEEN

JACKSON

I hurriedly exit my side of the car and catch up to her.

Deer heaves open the salon door, causing a little bell to chime announcing our arrival. The chill air inside has a slight chemical scent to it. Several heads turn our way, but Deer doesn’t break her stride as she strolls to the station in the back right corner. I avoid all eye contact as I stalk behind like her shadow.

“Amy!” Deer sings as she pulls out a chair and plops into it in front of a short woman, who returns the greeting with a soft smile.

“Hello, Deer. How have you been?”

“Good, good,” she reassures, giving the woman her right hand. “Busy, too.”

“Mm, I was worried when you canceled last week.”

“Oh, no, no. I promise, all’s fine. Perfectly peachy.”

I genuinely wonder how many times she has spoken that lie these last few weeks.

I wonder if anyone knows just how much she is hiding beneath that sparkly exterior.

Not sure what to do with myself, I hang back and lean against a part of the wall that isn’t decked out with various nail polish bottles.

The nail technician pulls out some sort of a drill and begins running it over Deer’s nails.

“Do you know what you want to do today?”

“Yeah, I was thinking something kinda like this.” Deer pulls something up on her phone with her free hand and brandishes it toward the woman.

“Cute, I like it. Same shape? Or keep it almond?”

“Whichever you think looks best,” she shrugs. “I trust you.”

Amy nods. Her gaze slips to me, and she gives me a blatant once-over before focusing back on Deer. “Boyfriend?”

Deer frowns before remembering that I’m in the room with her. Her eyes widen as she lets out a small laugh, the skin around her eyes crinkling.

A rock sinks in my gut.

“Well, last night I was his girlfriend, but today he’s my purse holder.” She lifts the fluffy white handbag off her lap with her free hand and holds it back over her shoulder. “Right, babes?” Her long lashes flutter like butterfly wings as she peers up at me. The honey-sweet voice she uses hides the taunting challenge at the core of her words.

I can feel the other technicians in the salon hushing as they watch the performance Deer puts on.

“Right.”

I pluck the tiny bag from her hand and her grin widens.

I really shouldn’t have come.

“Take a seat,” Amy instructs me, angling her chin to the empty chair next to Deer.

I give her a nod before pulling out the seat and sinking onto the soft cushion, the fuzzy bag perched in my lap.

I look like a fucking simp, and I am going to be stuck like this for two hours.

I dig my phone out of my pocket and load Kill Strike up, determined to avoid any further temptations of indulging Deer in her tirade of pushing me to the edge. My attention zeroes onto the game. But while it seems to work and deters Deer or anyone else from talking to me, it doesn’t stop the fact that I can understand the hushed whispers that float around the salon.

In what alternate dimension did I think this was a good idea?

Tagging along to a fucking nail salon…real smart idea, Jackson.

I’m the only dude in here, minus the guy who is giving an old lady a pedicure, and even he is giving me the occasional glance. I look like a whipped asshole, all because I’m just trying to keep an eye out for her, keep her safe.

My jaw clenches as I attempt to drown everyone out, centering my focus on my phone screen and the game I’m playing.

Deer jostles my leg with the heel of her shoe. “Shield.”

“What?”

“Amy asked if you want to get your nails done.”

I briefly look up at her before glancing at the woman and then back to Deer.

“No.”

She nudges my leg again. “Come on. You’re here, you might as well.”

“No.”

“Blade paints his nails.”

“And that’s great for Aleksander.”

“I guess you’re just not as secure in your masculinity as he is.”

I pause my game, giving the brat before me a stern glare. “Be careful.”

She purses her lips, cheeks flushing a smidge before turning her attention back to the nail technician. “Just making an observation.”

I don’t miss the way the other women in the salon are judging me for not entertaining my supposed girlfriend. And I certainly don’t miss the way another nail technician slips into the seat across from me and begins setting up various tools regardless of my rejection.

Fucking hell.

I click off my phone and place it not so gently on the table before me.

“Fine.” I hold my hands out to the woman whose nametag reads Suzy. “But no color.”

“Not even green?”

I side-eye Deer. “Unlike Parker and you, I don’t make one color my entire personality.”

“Oh, yeah? Then what color are your shoes?”

“Do you always need to have the last word?”

“Depends on the situation,” she shrugs.

Suzy takes one of my hands and proceeds to start trimming my nails with a clipper.

“Rough hands,” she remarks at the calluses marring my palms—a byproduct of my daily gym grind. “You should do a hand mask.”

“Oh, the honey one does wonders,” Deer chimes in.

“No,” I growl. It’s bad enough that I’ve caved this much already.

Deer reaches out and places her right hand in the middle of my table briefly as she whispers loudly, “I’ll pay for it, just ignore him.” Her nose scrunches up like she is sharing a secret.

Suzy smiles back.

“Seriously, no,” I repeat.

It doesn’t stop Suzy from reaching into a fridge behind her and pulling out a small jar.

“No, thank you,” I say in Mandarin this time. My family is from the Guangdong province, so we primarily speak Cantonese, but I still learned some Mandarin back in high school to feel confident enough about getting my point across.

Except, maybe not, because Suzy ignores me.

She just unscrews the lid and uses a scooper to remove a large dollop of a light yellow cream. She smiles at me before using her free hand to grip my left hand.

“I only speak Filipino,” she muses before slapping the cold cream onto the top of my hand.

A stifled laugh escapes Deer as Suzy proceeds to massage the cream onto both hands.

Unbridled resignation sinks into my bones.

I don’t even bother stopping her from slipping a pair of warm cloth gloves on me.

She holds both hands together and gives them a soft pat. “Ten minutes.” Then she gets up and leaves me stranded. I can’t even use my phone with these damn things on.

Deer has no sympathy for my situation. She busies herself, switching hands as she aimlessly scrolls through her notifications and hearts comments.

I’m stuck watching a TV mounted on the wall that is showing some sort of home renovation show. There’s no sound and no subtitles. I just have to use my own deductive reasoning to decipher what is going on—which seems to be a man building what might be either a very small doghouse or an oddly large birdhouse.

I’m annoyed to admit that I get sucked into the show, trying to piece together everything going on and making my own assumptions. I still can’t tell whether the hosts are a married couple or brother and sister.

When Suzy returns to wash off the mask and begin my manicure, I let her work in silence. Even Deer just lets me be as she chatters away with her own nail technician. Though, I do see her glancing over every couple of minutes.

“How long have you been dating?” Amy asks her.

“We’ve been dating in secret for a while now. We have to keep it quiet for his family, ya know.”

“They don’t approve?” Amy’s brows crinkle.

Deer leans forward, and in a not-so-hushed whisper, she says, “He’s worried they won’t like me.”

Amy lets out a tsk, and I suddenly feel very judged for something I didn’t even do.

I regret ever opening this can of worms. It seemed like a great idea last night, but now I’m second-guessing everything. I told her it was a onetime thing, but here she is, milking it for all it’s worth, like I’m some prized cow she’s excited to show off.

“If my son brought you home, I’d be happy. You’re such a sweet girl.”

“Aw, thank you.” Deer looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “Did you hear that, babes? I’m sweet.”

“Mm. Yeah, you’re the sweetest girlfriend ever.” I give her a tight smile, but she just beams back at me.

When she looks at me like that, I start to second-guess my second-guessing. I start to find myself drawn into this game we are playing.

“Jackson?”

My abs contract at the familiar voice.

“Jackson?”

The repetition cements my fear.

I feel like a rusted robot as my head slowly twists to look in the direction of the voice.

“I thought that was you.”

“ An yi .”

My auntie An lays a hand on my shoulder, curiosity glinting through her eyes as she takes in the scene before her. My mother’s older sister is a jealous woman and the worst gossip you’ll ever meet.

“Did I hear this is your girlfriend?”

Ice washes over my entire body.

“Yes, I am.” Deer places a hand on my knee.

“No, she’s not.” I try to shake her off.

The entire nail salon goes quiet.

“Babe,” Deer playfully whines, her brows furrowed in a tease.

Her smile wavers when she looks me directly in my eyes. I’m not sure what she sees written there, but it’s enough to bring a spark of concern to her baby blues. Her eyes dart between me and my aunt a few times as her smile slowly deflates. Deer removes her hand from my knee and spins back, returning her attention to Amy.

It just makes everything look more weird, which Auntie An quickly picks up on.

“I was wondering why none of your dates had been successful when your mother totes what a catch you are,” she crows. “Who’d have guessed you had a little girlfriend you were keeping secret?”

“She’s not—”

“Actually, that would add up with all your other secrets and lies.”

My jaw clenches, grinding from side to side.

I am so sick of everyone blaming me.

And I am really sick of everyone trying to control my story.

This is why I kept everything hidden for years so I didn’t have to deal with their judgement. They all seem so set on analyzing every detail of my life, making sure that it is up to par with what fits their expectations. They’re so afraid I’m going to tip the boat over, and maybe I will.

“I’m not surprised you kept quiet about this.” She leans forward, whispering behind her hand. “She’s a little much, no? What will your po po say if she sees someone like her?”

Deer’s body tenses almost imperceptibly, and it feels like the temperature in the room cools by ten degrees. But without missing a beat, Deer flicks her head back around with a perfectly crafted smile, her new glittery nails glinting from the overhead lights as she clasps her hands together on her bobbing knee.

“It’s not what you think.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “I was just joking around. We’re not—”

“We’re not official yet.” I reach over and cover Deer’s hands with my own, her leg immediately ceasing its bouncing. “I was waiting to tell everyone.”

I can see Deer swivel her head out of my periphery, but I keep my gaze glued to my auntie’s, never letting it waver.

“Really?” Her eyes flick up and down as they catalog every inch of Deer’s body.

“Really, Auntie.” I give Deer’s hand a small, reassuring squeeze. “This is my girlfriend.”