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What was the going rate for a fake girlfriend? I had no idea, and something felt…icky about asking her to pay me.

I didn’t want her money.

I’ll do it out of the goodness of my heart, how’s that I replied.

She typed a response and then deleted it before trying again. You can just meet me at my house before the party she sent, along with the address. As if I didn’t know where she lived. I mean, I wasn’t a stalker or anything, but when you lived in a place like Arrowbridge, you just kind of knew where people lived.

I couldn’t lie, I was looking forward to seeing Tenley’s house. Sure, it would probably make me hate myself, seeing all the things she could afford, but I’d get a view of the inner sanctum, and you couldn’t put a price on that.

The more I thought about this whole situation, the more I realized what I wanted from Tenley wasn’t money.

“Well?” Lark asked. I’d forgotten that she was there, I’d been so wrapped up in talking with Tenley.

“She asked if I wanted money, but I’m going to ask her for something else,” I said, typing out the message.

I want a favor in exchange for doing this. One big favor from you that I can call in at any time in the future I sent, typing as fast as I could.

I’m not doing anything illegal or embarrassing she responded immediately.

Deal I replied. We should shake on it in person.

Fine she sent, and that was the end of the conversation.

“I’m on the edge of my seat here,” Lark said, even though she was sitting deep into my couch. She was working on her second brownie.

“She’s going to owe me one huge favor and I’m meeting her at her house on Saturday before a party at Tommy Webb’s,” I said. Tenley didn’t need to tell me where Tommy Webb’s house was, because I knew that, too. He’d moved onto his grandparent’s farm after they died and spent a lot of time fucking around and occasionally cutting trees and selling weed and having massive parties in the barn that never got the cops called because almost all of them were related to him. He got along with everyone due to hosting the parties and also because he was so stoned out of his mind all the time that it was hard to get mad at him.

“Now I just have to figure out what to wear. No one ever invited me to a barn party in high school so I don’t know what the dress code is.”

“You want to look good, but not like you made any effort,” Lark said, standing up. “Come on.”

She led me to my room and started pulling things out of my closet.

“You also need to wear something that you don’t mind getting beer spilled on,” she said. “But also, you need to look a little slutty if you want to make a man jealous.”

“Casual but slutty, got it,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Overalls aren’t slutty enough,” Lark said, flipping through the hangers in my closet.

“I feel like I should be taking notes or something,” I said. “Fashion lessons with Lark.”

“I can’t help it. I browse fashion social on my breaks,” she said. “What about this for bottom?”

She held up a black maxi skirt that had a slit all the way up the leg, so what looked modest at first was actually quite revealing.

“Leg slits are slutty,” I said as she tossed it on the bed.

“Boom, wear it with this,” she said, adding a short-sleeved dark-green bodysuit that really set off my red hair.

“Wear this with your black boots and some jewelry and you’re golden,” Lark said, sitting next to me on the bed, careful to avoid the clothes.

“Thanks, friend,” I said.

“And wear your hair down,” Lark said.

“I will.” Most of the time I kept my hair up, but if Lark thought it would look good down, then there was no harm in trying.

“You’ll have to send me a pic of the whole fit,” she said.