Like last Monday, Mr Patterson’s Maths class waits outside the classroom. The sun smiles through the clouds, the light-blue and navy uniforms disappear into classrooms, and the air smells of cut grass. Except, unlike last Monday, Eve and I are friends now. Or pretending to be friends. Or pretending to be lovers pretending to be friends.
The entire plan is complicated, but I don’t care as long as I get results. Like this:
“Noah. Why have you been staring at Eve Knightly for the past five minutes?” Henry waves a hand in front of my face, and I blink at him.
Fuck. Why is he so gorgeous? The waves of his hair, the blue of his eyes …
Eyes that are looking at me with irritation.
“What?” I say.
“You’re staring at Knightly.” He glances over. “She’s staring at you too. Maybe she has a bit of a crush.”
“Who can blame her?” I say, giving him a roguish look. In return, he punches me in the shoulder.
The truth is, Eve and I weren’t staring at each other to pretend to be checking each other out — although it’s advantageous if Henry thinks that. Instead, we were trying to communicate with our eyes how we’re going to implement our plan — The Jealousy Pact.
I’ve been subtly gesturing for her to walk over, but she glared at me and made a come-here motion. I nodded to the classroom, and she raised a brow. Communicating without words is difficult. And so is trying to figure out how we can hang out in maths class without it looking unnatural.
I don’t want to ditch Henry, but I know that she’ll refuse to sit with us in the back row. This is harder than I thought it’d be.
“You’re not leading her on, or anything?” Henry asks.
“Why do you care?”
“She’s got like one friend, right? If you show her attention now, you’ll break her heart later.”
“I’m impressed you care that much about her wellbeing,” I say.
Henry scowls, and I feel guilty. I don’t have to talk to him like a dick. “No, I’m not leading her on. I wouldn’t do that.”
Before Henry can answer, Mr Patterson arrives. “I know, I know,” he says as he unlocks the door. “I’m late. Fortunately, we have little theory to go over, and a lot of it you’ll recognise from previous years. Also, I want to give you heaps of time to catch up on your bookwork. I don’t know what it is about this class, but it seems half of you don’t answer the questions I set …”
The class follows him into the room. Eve glances at me before taking her usual seat. I fight the urge to groan. I’m going to have to sit in the front row like a nerd, aren’t I?
“Hey,” I say to Henry. “I’m going to sit with Eve. Want to join?”
His face scrunches up. “Um, why?”
“She’s good at math,” I say. “She can help me.”
“So you’re using her to tutor you?”
Everyone has taken their seat, so I rush to finish the conversation. “No. We’re friends. So?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll sit with John.”
John’s on our football team, and while Henry and I aren’t very close with him, we’re still friendly.
“She can help you too,” I say, but he’s turned his back.
I fall into a seat beside Eve. She stares at me with surprise. “You’re here.”
“For TJP,” I say. “It stands for—”
“I know what it stands for. I can’t believe you’re sitting in the front row, though.” She turns around and looks at Henry. I don’t dare do the same.
Unlike Henry, Eve doesn’t talk while Mr Patterson writes notes on the whiteboard, and there’s no one nearby to talk to, so I’m forced to be quiet and listen.
