“Thank you,” I said pointedly, even though it wasn’t even my idea.
“But also extremely stupid,” she added.
“Less thank you,” I muttered, now wishing I hadn’t taken so much credit for it.
Poppy grabbed my arm. “Wait, so you’re going to, like, date in public? Hold hands and sit together at lunch and go on pretend dates and all that?”
“Well yeah, that’s kind of the point.”
Poppy looked like she’d just won the lottery. “Our whole friend group is together now! I mean, not Mako but we’ll find him a girl. The point is?—”
“That he and I aren’t actually together,” I reminded her in a quiet voice so nobody else would hear. “Don’t get used to this, Poppy. It’s all going to be over within a month, I guarantee it.”
She completely ignored me. “You have to do something cute together to really announce it. Like wear matching scarves orbake cookies or—oh! Submit photos for the school blog that sophomore is starting! It’ll look so natural.”
“I’d rather drink one of those neon slushies,” I muttered.
“Done,” Saylor said, already heading for the frozen drink machine by the front counter.
“Wait—no!”
She grinned over her shoulder. “Maybe you’ll end up loving it and it can become your tradition instead.”
Poppy trailed after her, humming happily to herself. I sighed and followed. While Saylor filled a large cup with the toxic blue slush, Poppy lined up candy on the counter like she was conducting an orchestra. “Okay, so, ground rules. You need to at least look like you enjoy his company.”
“I do enjoy his company,” I said. Then I paused and added, “You know, when he’s not speaking.”
Saylor snorted. “That’s going to sell the illusion.”
“You know, Lilah, this could actually be good for you,” Poppy said.
I frowned. “How?”
“Well, you’ve kind of avoided dating,” she pointed out. “And I’ve always gotten the idea that it’s partially because of Tino.”
“It isnot?—”
“I think,” Poppy said, totally cutting off my protests, “that you’ve always wondered what it could be like if you and Tino got together. It’s holding you back. And maybe testing it out like this can help you see if this is what you want.”
“What I want,” I said, “is for people to stop talking about my love life like it’s a group project.”
“Too late,” Saylor said. Then she shoved the blue monstrosity at me. “Drink up.”
When we got to the register, the bored-looking student worker scanned our snacks without comment. Saylor swiped her student card to pay for it—she always insisted on doing so sinceher parents loaded ridiculous amounts of money onto it for her—and then the three of us stepped back out into the cool night air. The path back to the dorms was mostly empty and the only sound in the evening air was our sneakers crunching against the gravel as we walked.
Poppy linked her arm through mine. “So, when’s your first fake date?”
“Tomorrow, I guess,” I said. “We’re meeting at lunch so people can see us together.”
“Aw,” she cooed. “You’re already scheduling couple time.”
“It’s called a cover story,” I said.
Poppy started humming “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid.
“Stop,” I said.
“Shalalalala—don’t be shy?—”
