One Week Girlfriend - By Monica Murphy Page 0,29

revulsion. "I'm sorry, but whatever that was between you two looked like two beginners who have no idea what you're doing with each other. Like you've never even touched each other before. Tell me the truth. Are you really with her?"

Panic settles in and my throat is as dry as the Sahara. I don't want to answer. It's none of her goddamned business, but I know she won't let it go. She'll keep at it and keep at it until I give in. I used to always give in to Adele, and I hate that about myself.

Hate it.

I glance across the table, trying to catch my dad's eye, but he's so engrossed in conversation with the guy sitting next to him, he's not noticing anything. "We're really together," I say through clenched teeth, trying not to look at her. The disgusted sound she makes draws my attention though, despite my efforts.

Her eyes flicker the slightest bit, revealing her hesitation, but she forges on. "So. Is she any good in bed? Does she know any special tricks?"

Jesus. I knew this would eventually happen, but not here. Not surrounded by hundreds of people. "Don't fucking go there."

Her smile widens. She knows she's struck a nerve. "Does she keep you satisfied, Andrew? That's rather difficult, you know. Once someone breaks down all those steel walls you so carefully build around yourself, you're quite...insatiable."

Shame washes over me and I stand so fast, my chair falls to the ground with a loud clatter. Everyone at our table looks at me, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Adele sits there as serene as a queen on her throne. She doesn't bother looking at me. She knows what she's done.

"You okay, son?" my dad asks, his brows furrowed.

I don't answer him. Instead, I escape, desperate to get away from Adele. I need to get out of this crowd. The room feels like it's closing in on me, and my head is spinning. I don't know if it's from anxiety or the two beers I drank tonight.

All I know is I need fresh air. I'm headed for the terrace.

Headed for Fable.

Fable

"You're still at Wade's house, right?" I take a drag of my cigarette and exhale, momentarily captivated by the thin tendrils of smoke that float in the air. It's cold as hell and I'm totally sneaking this stupid cigarette, since there are no smoking signs all over this freaking terrace. What's the point of having an outdoor area if you're not going to let people smoke?

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still here." Owen sounds irritated as hell but I don't care. It's past nine o'clock, he should be in bed at ten and I want to make sure he's where he's supposed to be.

"Bedtime is ten, don't forget it." I flick ashes over the railing, again with the litterbug routine and I feel like a shit. What is it about all these fancy rich people that makes me act like I grew up in a gutter?

"But that's so early. Wade doesn't go to bed til eleven." He's whining. Yet again. Reminding me that he's completely immature and still in so many ways a little boy, though he's desperate to prove he's practically a man who can take care of himself.

"Well, good for Wade. I still think you should at least be in bed by ten," I relent, knowing he probably won't listen to me.

I hate being away from him. There's something going on, something he's hiding from me, but I can't put my finger on exactly what. I just hope he can keep his act together until I at least come home.

"Whatever," Owen mutters. "Most of the time, you act like you're my mom, you know?"

My throat swells up and I fight off the tears. I'm totally emotional tonight and I can't really explain it. I blame Drew and his stupid, perfect lips. That kiss rattled some weird emotion inside my chest and I've been near tears ever since. "Someone has to stay on top of you."

He laughs. "Ain't that the truth?"

"Oh my God, use real words, please." I laugh too, pleased that he's in a good mood. Earlier when I talked to him, he'd been wary and evasive. I don't want him keeping secrets from me, but I know it's natural, considering he's thirteen and all. His behavior will only get worse too, I'm sure. But I'm prepared. At least as prepared as I can be.

Men and their deep, dark secrets. I know Drew's got a ton of them. I'm