If I told Ruby that Noah was here, her eyes would pop out of her head. If only she knew the real reason.
“This is crazy,” I mutter. “You’re crazy, Noah. This is crazy.” I clear my desk of notebooks, loose worksheets and novels.
“It’s not crazy, it’s genius.”
“I can’t believe we’re entertaining this,” I say. The desk is now empty, except for a blank notebook and a pen. I point at the chair. “Sit down. I’ll be back.”
He obeys, and I leave the bedroom. After Noah told me his idea, I stared at him for half a minute. I wasn’t sure whether it was an elaborate joke until he started explaining the “logic” of it.
I tried to tell him why it wouldn’t work, but he didn’t listen. The next thing I knew, I was dragging him to my house. If we were going to discuss this, we needed to do it properly, with a pen and paper. Noah grinned at me, saying I wouldn’t discuss it unless there wassomemerit. Which was true, but I sure as hell wouldn’t admit it.
I grab a chair from the dining room and carry it back to my room. Thankfully, Mum is getting dinner with friends so I don’t have to explain why I have a random boy in my room.
I squeeze the extra chair at the desk beside Noah, sit and pick up the pen. “Alright, let’s make a pros and cons list. The first con is that us dating is unrealistic, and therefore, the whole plan is futile.” I write that.
“How is us unrealistic?” he asks. “I mean, sure, I’m g—not straight, so it’s unrealistic in that way. But no one knows that.”
“It’s not about your sexuality,” I say. “It’s the fact that you’re out of my league.”
“Don’t say that,” he responds.
I shake my head. “I’m not saying it to be self-deprecating, Noah. But you can’t deny that there is a defined social hierarchy in our school and year level—”
“Nope,” he interrupts. “No, no, no.”
“What do you mean, no?” I ask. Surely he knows that he’s one of the most popular people in our year level?
“That whole hierarchy you’re talking about is bullshit.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re at the top of it.”
“It’s all in people’s heads,” he says. “People think it exists, but it doesn’t …”
“The hierarchy being in people’s heads doesn’t mean it’s not real. It’s a social construct. The point is,” I continue in a louder voice before he can interrupt, “would people believe that we were dating? We have nothing in common. We’ve almost never talked before Monday.”
“We get along well enough to be friends,” he says. “Is it so hard for others to believe us to be together?”
My eyes widen at the wordfriends. Does Noah think we’re friends? Is this how fast he makes friends?
Noah must notice my reaction because he continues. “Look, why don’t I explain why this is a good idea?”
I nod.
“Oliver asked you out was because you talked to me, right? And it’s likely that he has some feelings towards you because he wouldn’t ask out someone he didn’t like. So, if we create more jealousy, this jealousy will … what is the word?”
“Amplify? Increase? Heighten?”
“Amplify! Yes, amplify those feelings. This would work in my situation as well. If there’s no reaction in response to us dating, we’ll know how they feel about us. And if everything else fails,” he continues, “at least I look like I don’t care that much about Henry.”
“You want to look indifferent to him?”
His eyes drift up the wall. I’ve taped to-do lists and goals and calendars and motivational quotes up there, but Noah’s eyes are unfocused. “Yeah. As you say, emotions are ew.”
“Okay,” I say after a pause. “I get where you’re coming from. But … you would pretend to be straight.”
“Oh. Yeah.” His eyes return to mine. “But it wouldn’t be a big deal.” His intonation goes up at the end of the sentence, turning the sentence into a question.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. If you were straight, we’d be pretending, anyway. But …”
