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“Nothing. It’s just…I mean, I know this is the point, but doesn’t it bother you at all? That she’d think we were together and then purposely try to break us apart? She’d be trying to get you to cheat on me with her.”

His eyes widen. “Cheaton you?”

My cheeks heat and I wave the words away. “You know what I mean. From her view, that’s what you’d be doing.”

“And that bothers you?”

“It makes me question whether she’s good enough for you.” The words come out before I can shove them back down my throat.

“When did you start caring about that? I thought this was all an elaborate ruse to save face for Paul.”

“It is. Of course. I just hate wasting my efforts for someone who isn’t worth it.”

“Is it really that much effort to pretend you like me?” he whispers. He runs his fingers through my hair. He must know the way his touch burns through my skin despite my steady breathing. His gaze is so soft that it’s almost impossible to believe he’s acting.

The question rises in my mind: Is it possible that heisn’tfaking anymore either?

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to discern his emotions through his expression, but he gives nothing away. And I won’t be the one to ask. If he’s going to claim this is all fake, then I’ll flirt right back. I’ll meet him toe to toe every time. And if it finally gets to be too much and he wants to know what the truth is, then he’ll have to be the one to break and ask me. No way am I putting myself out there only to find that he reallyisthis good of an actor.

“Hey, Mr. Wheeler! How about you take your hands off Ms. Morris and you both get to class before I write you up?”

Nathan jumps back like Mr. Stevens shocked him with a Taser. “Yes, sir. On my way.” He jogs backward a few steps and looks over his shoulder to double-check that our history teacher is still striding away. “You’re riding to the store with me, right? I’ll see you then!”

He jogs farther away and I wave to him as if nothing is wrong, even though I’m about to collapse into my locker.

I spend the rest of the day in a fog, replaying those few minutes with Nathan and trying to figure out what’s going on with him. It’s only at rehearsal after school that I can finally focus. People have memorized their lyrics and small bits of choreography and it’s starting to look like an actual performance. But the Three Little Pigs still aren’t projecting, Papa Ogre is giving me a hard time about the Shrek mask he needs to wear, and the costumes are a disaster. I can’t believe how fast time is moving. Homecoming is this Saturday and the big meeting is the Wednesday after. I’ve got to pull this together.

I’m almost to the school exit, busy running through my mental to-do list, when a voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Riley? Hey, wait up!”

Ugh.

It’s Paul again, looking every inch the leading man with his perfectly cut hair and bright white smile. I know for a fact his hair didn’t look like that after he pulled off the Shrekmask in the auditorium minutes ago, which means he must have ducked into a bathroom before finding me. For some reason the vanity annoys me.

“I don’t have a lot of time. Nathan is picking me up today.” I give him a pointed look.

“That was a great rehearsal,” he replies with zero acknowledgment of what I just said.

Sighing, I push open the door that leads out into the parking lot. It’s a cool October day, but the sun is bright and I have to shield my eyes with my hand.

Even still, my gaze immediately latches on to Nathan in the distance. I figured he’d be waiting in his car for me, but he’s leaning against the driver’s side door. Why do guys have to look so good when they’re leaning against things? It’s just a form of laziness, all this leaning. It shouldn’t make my heart speed up, but here we are. He pushes away from the car and strides toward me.

“I have to say, I don’t get the two of you.” Paul’s still next to me for some godforsaken reason. “You have nothing in common.”

I glare at him. “Well, you and I had lots in common and we know how that worked out.”

“Riley—”

“Okay?” Nathan asks me, his voice tinged with worry as he comes to my side.

I reach for his hand, and he easily gives it to me. “I’m better now,” I say mostly to myself. And I mean it. I’m more relaxed just having him close.

Paul surveys us. “So, will I see you at homecoming?”

Nathan and I glance at each other. He might have said weshould start faking all the time, but I know he didn’t meanallthe time. Not when it comes to the school dances he loathes.

“I don’t think—” I start.

Nathan’s hand tightens around mine, and he pulls me closer so that our arms are touching from shoulder to wrist. “Of course we’ll be there. I’m already looking forward to seeing what Riley wears.” He gestures down at my oversized strawberry sweater. “I’m sure it’ll pull all eyes to her. Though that happens no matter what she’s wearing.”