What on earth did I just agree to?
Chapter 3
Alexis
The text came onlya few days later.
Lis
We found you a boyfriend. Meet us at The Crossroads at 7. Wear something pretty.
I groan as I glare at it, then drag my eyes towards the closet.Wear something pretty. What does that even mean? I like all of my clothes, but taste is subjective. How am I supposed to guess what a stranger thinks is pretty? And if this is all fake, why does it even matter?
Whatever. We have to make it look real, I suppose.
I settle for a skin-tight white top that shows a sliver of skin at my navel and my best pair of black skinny jeans, topping it with a loose-knit cardigan for comfort. It’s a pretty standard look for me, but no one bothered to mention a dress code and I don’t want to overdress and give my date any wrong ideas.
Oh god.
I have a date.
With a stranger.
A stranger who, if this goes well, will pretend to be my beloved boyfriend for the next couple of months. A stranger who, if they carry any ill will, has the chance to humiliate me in front of the entire school by admitting our charade.
My veins fill with lead as I let myself fall backward onto the floral bedspread, my face hidden behind my palms. A nightmare—this is just a nightmare.
What if I just…didn’t go? Stayed home. Locked myself in my room like a petulant child and researched getting a fake degree. Surely getting caught with one of those would be less embarrassing than getting caught with a fake boyfriend. At least with the degree, I wasalmostthere.
No. Ihaveto go, if only to keep from pissing off my siblings. They did promise to drop it if I didn’t like the guy, so really, what do I have to lose?
A lot,I remind myself.
I shrug on my coat and take my purse off the hanger, still dragging my feet on leaving the safe haven of my dorm. How do people do this? Do they actually like going on dates? The endless line of strangers, hoping to be loved instead of hurt? I have to trust my sister thoroughly vetted whoever they decided on, but some things you don’t know until they do them. And that makes it a whole lot worse.
It’s just one date. One measly little dinner of pleasantries, and then we can drop this whole thing.
I lock the door behind me and head for the stairs, keeping my head low and eyes on the shadows. I’ve just reached the sidewalk when I see it: a flash of broad shoulders and black hair trimmed short.
My keys clutched like weapons between my shaking fingers I break into a sprint, running as fast as these traitorous legs can take me. I feel my phone deep in my pocket, but there’s noone to call. Alissa has a late class and will barely make it to the restaurant on time, and Levi? Levi still doesn’t know.
And I can’t tell him, because if I do, he’ll take matters into his own hands and ruin his future. I adore my brother, but when it comes to family, he can get a bit hotheaded and overprotective. With him being so close to fulfilling his NHL dreams…it’s best to keep him in the dark.
The streets are quiet as I speed through, every shadow a threat as I run towards the restaurant. A car comes up behind me and I push myself to go even faster, not caring that the sweat and rain are ruining my makeup and I’ll be drenched by the time I get there. Because I won’t be meeting anyone tonight. When I get there, I will call Alissa from the parking lot and ask her to drive me home.
I get so lost in my panic and thoughts that I don’t register the car slowing down beside me until the driver honks, making me jump.
“Hey, do you need a ri—whoa, are you okay?”
I peer into the car, trying to put a face to the familiar voice. But the sun has gone down and the darkness is creeping in fast, making it hard to see.
“I’m fine!” I half-yell, embarrassingly out of breath, and wave a hand to brush them off. I turn on my heels to start running again before I can be dragged into this car and get myself killed.
“You’re Levi’s sister, right? Alexis?”
Slowly, I turn my head towards the car. If he knows my brother, it explains why his voice is so familiar. He’s probably on the hockey team. But to point it out in the first minute of talking? Those conversations rarely end well.
“Maybe,” I say. “Why do you need to know?”
