Page 82 of The Fake Script
Dang it. Emma.
I try her phone, but she doesn’t pick up. Of course she doesn’t. This looks bad. Really bad. Anyone would jump to conclusions. The truth is, Madison played me.
I literally jump into my pants before throwing on the first shirt I can find and bolting out the door.
Emma
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying my morning coffee, when an image of Auston pops up on my feed. Actually, it’s one of Auston and Madison. They’re standing close, her hand resting on his arm. I frown, swallowing the lump growing in my throat as I read the catchy headline.“Auston Buckley and Madison White finally back together. More pics in the article.”
All the blood in my body seems to drain as I click on the picture and wait for the article to load. All the while, I resist the urge to bang my fist on the table so I don’t wake the girls.
At last, the article fills my screen, and the writers didn’t lie. They do have more pictures. Lots more. Taken on different days, since Auston and Madison are wearing different outfits. I examine each shot, my heart clenching. What is this? Could he really be sneaking around with her? After everything that’s happened, the entire ploy to fake-date me just so she would leave him alone? This makes no sense.
I read the rest of the article, and it claims that Auston was dating someone else in desperate hopes that Madison would finally notice him and take him back.
What on earth?
As compelling as the story sounds for an outside audience, I’m not buying this. Not one bit.
“Hey,” Hayley mumbles, yawning as she shuffles into the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head as I bring my gaze back to the screen.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” She pulls up a chair next to me. “You’re wearing your pissed-off Emma look.”
I glance at her. “Really?”
Her eyes fall to my phone, and the pictures of Madison and Auston on display. “Wait. No!” she yells.
“Hey!” Alice calls from her room. “Some of us are sleeping.”
“Sorry,” Hayley calls back. “But you’d better get your butt in here. We have bigger fish to fry.”
“No, we don’t.” I set down my phone. “This is fabricated. I know it.”
Alice rushes into the kitchen with a frown. “What’s going on? Where’s the fire?”
“Well, maybe there isn’t one,” Hayley says, wincing. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“There isn’t,” I confirm, taking a sip of my coffee.
Alice sits down across from Hayley and shoots her a questioning glance.
She explains, “There are some compromising pictures of Madison and Auston, but apparently, they’re fake.”
“What?” Alice grimaces. “Let me see.”
I reluctantly hand her my phone, and she almost brings it to her nose to scrutinize the pictures. “Nope. Definitely not photoshopped.”
“As if you’re an expert,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I’m not saying the pictures themselves are fabricated. More the situation.”
“I don’t know,” Alice says as her eyes roam the article. “Are you sure you can trust him?”
“Positive.” I nod with resolve. And I mean it. Auston would never do this to me. “She’s been after him for a while. This is just another lame, desperate attempt to get him to buy in.”
“You might be right,” Alice says, handing me back my phone.
“I know I am. How many times have we seen this happen in books, huh? The infamous Miscommunication trope that breaks the couple up.”