Once he's out of earshot, I lean forward. "Is it me, or are these mandatory events multiplying?"
"Like rabbits," James agrees grimly. "The Christmas season brings out Andrew's inner cruise director."
Stirring my hot chocolate, I watch Drew with Emily. There's something about the way he looks at her, like she's the center of his universe. In his attention to her, he seems to forget about micromanaging the rest of us.
"Have you noticed how he's less focused on 'brotherhood bonding' when Emily's around? It's like she's his distraction."
"She has his full attention," James agrees, following my gaze.
An idea begins to form. Absurd at first, but the more it sits there, the more sense it makes. "What if..." The words start, then stop. This could ruin the fragile truce we've got going.
"What if what?" he prompts.
I take another sip before continuing. "What if we gave him something else to focus on? Like us."
He raises an eyebrow. "Elaborate."
"We're already pretending to be friends to get him off our backs about socializing more. What if we took it further? Give him a relationship to obsess over instead of brotherhood activities."
His expression is unreadable. "Are you suggesting we fake date?"
"Think about it." Now that I'm saying it out loud, the logic makes sense to me. "Drew loves playing matchmaker. If he thinks he's successfully paired up the two most antisocial members of the fraternity, he'd consider it his greatest achievement."
My heart's beating faster than it should for a casual conversation about a fake relationship.This is insane, right? Suggesting we pretend to date just to get out offrat activities?
Except that's not the whole truth, is it?
Yes, it gets Drew off our backs. Yes, it means fewer mandatory events. But there's something else threading through this idea, something I'm not ready to examine—the fact that spending more time with James doesn't sound like a chore. Actually sounds... nice, which is terrifying for entirely different reasons.
But James doesn't need to know that part. The practical benefits are enough.
"We'd still have to show up to the major events, but we'd have a built-in excuse to skip the smaller stuff." The words come faster, trying to convince him, or maybe myself. "And honestly, if I'm going to be forced into social situations, I'd rather it be with someone who doesn't make me want to fake my own death. We actually... talk. Like real conversations, not just surface bullshit."
Vulnerability creeps in there at the end. Shit. But it's true, tonight proved we can actually stand each other when we're not performing for the fraternity.
"We're both smart guys. I think we can manage to fool the guys."
"And what happens when they realize it's fake?" he asks. "Or when the semester ends?"
"We have a friendly breakup." My shoulders raise in a dismissive move as I try to sound casual, even though it's weirdto talk about ending things before we've even started. "Decide we're better as friends. No drama, no hard feelings."
Something flickers across his face, so quickly I almost miss it. Disappointment? Concern? But his practical side takes over before I can figure out what he's thinking.
"We'd need rules," he says, already thinking ahead. "Clear guidelines about what the fake relationship entails."
"Obviously." This systematic approach helps, making it feel less insane. "Nothing that makes either of us uncomfortable."
He nods slowly in agreement. "It's not the worst idea I've heard."
"Ringing endorsement." My voice is dry, but I can't stop a small smile from breaking out. "So... are we doing this
The question hangs between us, loaded with things we haven't figured out yet. For a moment, I think he'll back out, the logical choice. This plan is complicated, unnecessary, and potentially disastrous. But as he looks at me across the table, Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes, he nods.
"Let's do it," he says. "But we need a plan. A detailed one."
"Detailed. Obviously," I echo, the tightness in my stomach easing.
James pulls out his phone, already opening something.Of course he is.
