Chapter 2 – The Rules

• The back table in the library is supposed to be quiet.
• It wasn’t quiet that afternoon. The air conditioner was making a loud humming noise, a group of sophomores were arguing about a history project, and the librarian kept looking over at us like she knew we were not there to study.
• Weston was already there when I arrived. He had two coffees on the table. One was black. One had a lot of milk in it.
• “I didn’t know how you take it,” he said. “So I guessed.”
• I sat down. “The light one is fine.”
• He pushed it toward me. He was wearing a plain t-shirt today, not the varsity jacket. He looked more normal. Like someone I could actually talk to without feeling like everyone was watching.
• “So,” he said.
• “So,” I said.
• We both looked at the contract. I had reprinted it last night. Clean copy. No tutoring proposal attached this time. Just the contract.
• “Did you think about it?” I asked.
• “I thought about it,” he said. “I also asked my sister what she thinks about fake dating.”
• “You told someone?”
• “No. I asked hypothetically. I said, if a friend was going to fake date someone for a scholarship, is that stupid?”
• “What did she say?”
• “She said it’s the most romantic thing she’s ever heard and that my friend is an idiot if he doesn’t do it.”
• I almost choked on my coffee. “She said it’s romantic?”
• “My sister reads a lot of romance novels,” Weston said. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t know it’s you.”
• He took the contract and smoothed it out.
• “I want to add a few things,” he said.
• “Okay.”
• He pulled a pen from his backpack. “Rule one. No feelings. We already have that. But let’s be clear. That means no jealousy, no possessiveness, no checking each other’s phones. If you want to talk to other people, you can. Same for me.”
• “That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t get jealous.”
• “You say that now,” he said.
• “I mean it. This is business.”
• “Business,” he repeated. He wrote something down. “Rule two. No private dates. If we are seen together outside of school, it has to be somewhere public. Like a café or a game. So people can see us but we don’t have to pretend when we are alone.”
• “That makes sense,” I said.
• “Rule three. No kissing unless necessary. And if it is necessary, we both have to agree before.”
• “Agreed.”
• “Rule four,” he said, looking up. “No telling anyone. Not your mom, not my sister, not our friends. If one person knows, everyone will know.”
• “My mom would not approve anyway,” I said. “She would say I’m distracting myself.”
• “And rule five,” Weston said. “No breaking the agreement before the scholarship decision. Even if it gets weird. Even if people are mean. We stay together for three months. We break up after the announcement. Clean.”
• I nodded. “That’s what I wrote.”
• “I know. I’m just saying it out loud so we both remember.” He tapped the paper. “And one more. Rule six. If one of us wants to quit because it feels wrong, we talk first. We don’t just ghost or make a scene in front of people.”
• That one surprised me.
• “Why would it feel wrong?” I asked.
• “Because people are going to say stuff,” he said. “About you. About me. About us. Fake or not, it still feels real when everyone is watching.”
• I hadn’t thought about that part. I had only thought about the influence. The scholarship committee seeing me with Weston and thinking, oh, Emma must be influential.
• I hadn’t thought about the comments. The whispers. The photos.
• “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked quietly.
• Weston looked at me for a long moment.
• “Are you?” he asked back.
• “I have to,” I said. “If I don’t get this scholarship, I have to leave. My mom can’t pay. I didn’t tell anyone that, but it’s true. I need this.”
• He didn’t say anything right away. He just nodded slowly.
• “Then let’s do it,” he said.
• He signed his name at the bottom. Weston Carter in messy, quick handwriting.
• I signed under his. Emma Blackwood.
• The librarian walked past and glanced at our paper. Weston immediately flipped it over.
• “So,” he said, trying to sound casual. “When do we start?”
• “Now?” I said. “We should start now. People need to see us together before the next committee meeting on Friday.”
• “Okay. What do people who are dating do?”
• “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
• He stared. “Never?”
• “Never.”
• “Okay, wow. Neither have I, really. I mean, I’ve dated, but not… not like this. Not serious.”
• “So we are both bad at this.”
• “Perfect,” he said. “We will figure it out. Tomorrow at lunch, sit with me.”
• “Sit with you where?”
• “Main table. In the cafeteria. With the basketball guys and the student council people. Duke always sits there.”
• My stomach dropped. “You want me to sit at Duke’s table on day one?”
• “If we want people to believe it, we have to commit,” Weston said. “If you sit in the back corner like usual, no one will notice. If you sit at the main table, everyone will notice.”
• He was right. I hated that he was right.
• “Fine,” I said. “Tomorrow. Lunch.”
• “And walk with me between classes,” he added. “Third period to fourth. That hallway is always crowded.”
• “You’re making this very organized.”
• “I like plans,” he said. “You like plans too. That’s why this might actually work.”
• We left the library together. We didn’t hold hands or anything. We just walked out at the same time. But I saw two girls from my chemistry class look up and stare.
• It had already started.
• Lunch the next day was the longest twenty minutes of my life.
• I got my tray and walked to the main table. Every step felt loud. The cafeteria has maybe two hundred students in it at lunch, and I swear half of them turned to look.
• Weston was already there. He saw me and waved.
• “Hey,” he said loudly. “You made it.”
• I sat down next to him. The bench was crowded. Jonah Ellis was there, and two other basketball players, and Maya Chen, and of course, Duke at the head of the table like a king.
• Duke looked up when I sat down.
• “Emma,” he said. He smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
• “I invited her,” Weston said before I could answer. He put his arm on the back of my chair. It wasn’t around me, just behind me. But everyone saw it.
• “You invited her?” Duke said.
• “Yeah,” Weston said. “Is that a problem?”
• Duke’s smile didn’t change, but his eyes did. “No. Not at all. It’s just… surprising. You two?”
• “We’ve been talking for a while,” Weston said easily. He had obviously practiced this. “We decided to stop hiding it.”
• I tried to smile. “Yeah. We’ve been talking.”
• Maya Chen leaned forward. “Wait, are you two dating?”
• Weston looked at me. “Can I tell them?”
• I nodded.
• “We are,” Weston said.
• The table went silent for half a second, then exploded.
• “What?”
• “Since when?”
• “No way!”
• Jonah laughed. “Weston finally has a girlfriend? Man, it’s about time.”
• I felt my face burning. Weston squeezed my shoulder a little, like he was trying to say, it’s okay, just play along.
• Duke didn’t say anything at first. He just watched us. He watched Weston’s hand on my chair. He watched the way I was holding my tray too tight.
• “Congratulations,” Duke said finally. His voice was smooth. “You two make an interesting pair.”
• “Thanks,” I said.
• “We’re still figuring things out,” Weston said.
• “I’m sure you are,” Duke said. “Emma, I didn’t know you liked basketball.”
• “I don’t,” I said before I could stop myself. Then I realized how that sounded. “I mean, I’m learning. Weston is teaching me.”
• Weston laughed. “She’s a fast learner.”
• Duke stood up with his tray. “Well, I have a meeting. Weston, can I talk to you for a second? Outside?”
• Weston’s hand tightened slightly on my chair.
• “Sure,” he said. He stood up too. “I’ll be right back,” he told me quietly.
• He followed Duke out of the cafeteria.
• I sat there alone at the main table with people staring at me. Maya smiled at me.
• “Ignore him,” she whispered. “Duke hates when people he likes start hanging out with other people.”
• “He likes Weston?” I asked.
• “Weston is his best friend,” Maya said. “Or he was. Lately Weston has been pulling away. Everyone noticed.”
• I looked toward the doors where Weston and Duke had disappeared.
• Through the glass, I could see them talking. Duke was doing most of the talking, his hands moving. Weston was standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head.
• Then Weston walked back in alone.
• He sat down next to me again. He didn’t look happy.
• “What did he say?” I whispered.
• “Later,” Weston said. He picked up his fork. “Not here.”
• For the rest of lunch, he acted like everything was normal. He made jokes, he talked about the game on Friday, he even offered me some of his fries. People laughed. People took pictures. By the time lunch ended, at least twenty people had posted that Weston Carter and Emma Blackwood were dating.
• We walked to fourth period together like we planned. The hallway was packed. People moved out of the way for us. A few girls said hi to me who had never said hi to me before.
• It was working.
• After school, Weston caught up with me at my locker.
• “Hey,” he said. “You did good today.”
• “I felt like I was going to throw up the whole time,” I said.
• “You didn’t look like it. You looked confident.”
• “Thanks.”
• He leaned against the locker next to mine.
• “Duke said you’re using me,” he said casually.
• I froze. “What?”
• “He pulled me outside to tell me that you’re using me for the scholarship. That you asked him about influence and then came straight to me. He said you have a file on everyone who might help you win.”
• “I don’t have a file,” I said, my voice getting loud. “I asked one question in a meeting and he humiliated me. That’s it.”
• “I know,” Weston said quickly. “I told him that. I told him to mind his own business.”
• “You defended me?”
• “Of course I defended you. We’re… we are supposed to be together. Even if it’s fake, I’m not going to let him talk about you like that.”
• I looked at him. He meant it. There was no performance in his face right now. Just honesty.
• “Thank you,” I said quietly.
• “Don’t thank me,” he said. “It’s part of the deal. Rule six, remember? We talk first.”
• He pushed off the locker.
• “See you tomorrow, girlfriend,” he said.
• “See you tomorrow, boyfriend,” I said, and we both laughed because it still sounded ridiculous.
• I watched him walk away toward the parking lot. A couple of junior girls ran up to him to ask about our relationship. He answered them, smiling, playing the part perfectly.
• I turned back to my locker and started putting books in my bag.
• “You have no idea what Weston promised me before you came along.”
• I jumped.
• Duke was standing right behind me. I hadn’t heard him come.
• “What?” I said.
• Duke stepped closer. He wasn’t smiling now. His voice was low, so only I could hear.
• “Weston acts like he is so independent,” Duke said. “Like he is such a good guy. But you should ask him what he promised me last year to stay on the team after he almost got suspended. Ask him what he owes me.”
• “I don’t care what he promised you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
• “You should,” Duke said. “Because when he breaks that promise, and he will, you will be the reason. And people will remember that.”
• He walked away before I could answer, his backpack over one shoulder, like he hadn’t just threatened me.
• I stood at my locker with my bag half-zipped, my hands shaking.
• What had Weston promised him?
• And why did I suddenly feel like our little contract had just become much more complicated than three months of pretending?