“Parameter number one,” I said, writing while I spoke. “Respect each other’s boundaries.” I looked up at him. “We arepretenddating only, and I am not looking to cross intorealdating. I don’t want youever accusing me of leading you on, friend-zoning, or anything else out of the ‘nice guys’ handbook. I am telling you right now, I have sworn off actual dating for the foreseeable future. Don’t fall for me. I won’t date you.”
He nodded. “I can handle that. We will resist each other’s charms.” He folded his hands on the counter, then made another of those sultry expressions. Ugh. He needed to stop that flirting or I’d be trampling all over my own no-falling-for-each-other parameter. I never would have thought I could have a crush on a hockey player, but here we were.
“I’m serious, Daniel!” I said. AfterParameter one, I wroteFake dating only. No real romance.
“Parameter two,”I continued, still writing.“Results aren’t guaranteed. Your grades are not my responsibility.”I looked up at him. “I’m not doing your homework for you. I am an excellent tutor—but if you don’t pass, it’s on you, not me.”
“And same goes here. I’ll be the best fake-nerd-boyfriend you can imagine, but I can’t guarantee that having a fake-nerd-boyfriend is going to miraculously fix all your problems.”
“Okay, but I’m positive this will work,” I said.
“I love your confidence.” He gave me another glimpse of his smile, and I noticed for the first time that his left canine tooth was a bit crooked. Somehow it made his face even cuter—like he was more real instead of only perfect. “Can I make a parameter?” he asked.
“Of course.” I wroteParameter threeon the sheet.
“Great.” He exhaled, not looking at me. He bit his lip, looking unsure if he should say something. This was weird. Daniel not knowing what to say?
“So ...” He hesitated. “If this were a real relationship, I would definitely want us to be honest and open with each other, but it’s not. So my parameter is that we don’t worry about that.”
I frowned. “We aren’t going to be honest?”
“No, no. We’ll be honest, but not necessarilyopen. If I don’t tell you something about me, or my family or anything, it’s okay. Because we’re not really dating.”
I frowned. That was one hell of a parameter. What exactly was he hiding? We might not be dating, but wewerefriends. And friends were open with each other.
But were we really friends? We’d known each other for literally two days. We were working together—and maybe for Daniel, that was as far as he wanted this to go. He was putting a line in the sand here. We’d be casual friends, not close. And I needed to respect that.
“Okay. That’s fair. I’ll accept that.” I had no choice. Daniel was literally my last chance to get some credibility back at school.
He handed me a big metal strainer-thing. “Sift the powdered sugar. It needs to be light as snow. Resist the urge to put it all over your face this time.”
I rolled my eyes as I took a big bowl from the stack on the counter and set the sifter on top of it. I’d been assigned this job before—back when Tahira had her short-lived cupcake obsession. I poured some sugar into the strainer and started shaking it over the bowl, watching the fine powder mound below.
Daniel started cleaning the cracked eggshells and spilled chocolate from the counter. “Okay,” he said “What timelines are we talking about here? When’s the dance?”
I checked the calendar on my phone. “In six weeks. End of October.”
“I’ll be in calculus until the semester ends in January. Are you going to keep tutoring me after you don’t need me as your ‘boyfriend’ anymore?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I totally didn’t need to keep the fake boyfriend that long—just long enough so people could see that Devin hadn’t broken me. But I planned to work at the shelter all semester—so also until the end of January. “I’ll tutor you all semester no matter howlong ourrelationshiplasts.” I put down my sifter to add it to the list asParameter four.
He nodded as he wiped. “That works. We can probably do calculus here after baking.”
I nodded. “We’ll break up right after the Nerd Prom, though.”
I wroteParameter five: relationship will end after the Nerd Prom.
He snorted. “Nerd Prom?”
“That’s what everyone calls the fall formal. It’s technically the academic banquet.”
“Okay, that’s funny. Your school sounds ridiculous. Next issue. I don’t have a formal suit.”
I frowned. “Like, at all? It doesn’t have to be nice ... What do you wear to weddings or funerals? Don’t you have formal dances at your school?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have a suit.”
I cringed. That was going to be a problem. Especially with Devin’s new fashion-forward look. It wouldn’t impress anyone if I showed up with a guy (albeit a very cute guy) wearing jeans and a Leafs jersey. I was about to ask him how he could go through life without any formal clothes when I remembered his parameter. Maybe not having nice dinners or family weddings was his secret. I suddenly laughed. “I forgot. My sister’s a fashion student. She’ll find you something.”
