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“What about me?”
“You’ve formulated three decent friendships in the space of two weeks, and that’s more than I’ve done in the twelve years I’ve been in school.” He pauses a breath, and I can tell how uncomfortable he is even having these thoughts, let alone having to speak them out loud. “I go to school with Jonah, play on the same team, and work with him three days a week, and he hasn’t invited me to his house. At least not for…” he trails off, and I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “And I know that I don’t exactly give off the type of energy that screamslet’s be bros, but that’s the problem, and that’s what I need to change if I want to get into a decent school.”
My mind’s still catching up to what he’s saying. “So…” I start, running through the facts in my head. “We fake date for a few weeks, and I get that money. 70/30?”
“You can have it all. I don’t want the money.”
Even better. “And in return, you want me to…”—I try to come up with the right word—“…guideyou into becoming more of a team player by building friendships with your teammates?”
“Basically, yes.”
I nod, and I know I’m missing a piece of the puzzle here, but I’m not worried about it, because in my mind, I’m still stuck at theholy shit, I’m getting a carstage. And, sure, I’ll have to explain it to my dad, but he’ll be fine with it once I give him the rundown.
I think.
Maybe.
I just have to hide all the axes first.
Besides, a few weeks isn’t that long. How hard could it be to fake date a guy who can’t stand you?
Jace clears his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “And we should probably, you know…”
I don’t know. “Probably what?”
He squirms in his seat. “Practice.”
“Practicewhat?” Oh. “You want to practice fake fucking?”
“No!” His eyes whip to mine, then my legs, then the dash, then the roof of the cab, and with each second that passes, his cheeks get redder.
I bite back a giggle at his reaction. “Practice what then?”
“Dating,” he states, shrugging. “Like, shouldn’t we kiss or something? Isn’t that what couples do? PDA?”
“Okay.” I can kiss Jace Rivera. What’s the big deal? I lean forward, my lips puckered, and close my eyes. A second later, we knock foreheads, groan, and on our second attempt, we knock teeth.
Awesome.
10
Jace
As soon as Harlow stepped out of the van, she went straight to the log by the firepit and sat her ass down. I assumed she wanted me to start the fire for her, so that’s what I did. Then I noticed she was rubbing her arms, and I assumed she was still cold, so I got the cleanest sweatshirt I could find from the back of my van and gave it to her.
Now she’s wearing it.
But it’s so damn big on her that the sleeves fall past her hands, and she tucks them under her arms as she looks around, lifting her gaze above us. You’d think by the look of amazement on her face that she’d never seen solar string lights strung up between trees before. I’d found them at the used goods store a few months ago, and Glenda, the owner, said I could have them. She gives me a lot of things for free. Kind of like how Lana turns a blind eye to all the food that goes missing at the skating rink.
Perks of being the grandson of a notorious mean, old drunk, I guess.
“Did you do this?” Harlow asks, motioning around us.
I don’t really know what she means by “this.” I cleared a bit of landnext to the creek, hung up some lights, built a firepit, and dragged over a fallen log for a place to sit. It’s not that special.
“Yeah,” I answer and then awkwardly stand between her and my van because she’s sitting in my spot. And, sure, there’s room for me to sit beside her, and since she’s my fake girlfriend and we’re fake-dating now, I should probably get used to being close to her.
I sit beside her.