The Only Rule

Chapter 7b: Beef or Bet

You awkwardly look away, not wanting him to see the flicker of weakness in your eyes—not that you’ve stripped all your pride yesterday. You hated that he could read you so easily, but there was something too tempting about his plan.

“And if you don’t succeed—” he added, pausing dramatically, forcing you to brace yourself for what was coming next. “You just gotta hold your shame, because like I told you. Since the professor knows—I’ll let everyone know you’re the one behind the announcement spectacle.”

“So that’s basically forcing me to drop out—”

Dominic smirked as he hissed, “That’s how clever I am.”

“Ugh damn it,” you stomped your feet in frustration, glaring at him—but something else nagged at you. “Wait—why.. are you being so nice all of a sudden..?”

He raised an eyebrow, that smug look back on his face. “Don’t get me wrong. This could only happen if you’re useful. If you stop being useful, the deal’s off,” he shrugged his shoulders casually.

“You can’t just bail halfway! That’s not how deals work—!”

“Rules are there to be broken, right?” He arched a brow and smirked at you again. You rolled your eyes, but somehow he softened as he continued with a chuckle.

“Besides, I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?”

You stared at him, suddenly jolted down memory lane to the first time you met. Observing him, you think hard. It was a tempting offer—a chance to regain control. But it’s Dominic. Dominic is still—Dominic. Trusting him felt like walking into a trap.

“I can help you get your revenge,” he said, leaning in slightly, “and in exchange, you keep the psychos away from me. How’s that sound?”

You hesitated. “We don’t have to be friends, right? I don’t like you.”

“You don’t have to like me to work with me,” Dominic said, his smirk returning. “Friends are assholes, anyway. But then again—if you’re too sensitive you won’t have any friends, right?” Your eyes darted to the skies, contemplating his words—for once you kinda agree, though. But then slapping you to reality, his smirk deepened as he winked,

“Besides, after last night, you sure you don’t like me?”

You cringed, pretending to gag, but he just watched you, waiting for your answer as he added, “Ok if this would make you feel better. Only one rule: There will be no attachment.” Your eyes minced as he elaborated, “Come on, you know what I mean. No. Attachment. So you’re welcome to be with whoever you wanna date—of course. And I’ll still be with whoever I want too. This is not exclusive. You can chill,”

“You asked me to steer away unwanted ladies—but you still want to be with other girls? How’s that going to convince them to go away from you?”

“Ah, I just need to steer away a few locos—not the whole Queen Bee. Besides, it’s not like I need you to pretend to be my girl or anything. I just need you to scare them like ‘em scarecrows. You already look like one anyway.”

Giving him the most exhausted look, you glare at him. Exhaling a big sigh, you clarified, “So basically—that ‘no falling in love’ cliche?”

He tilted his head in a weighing manner, disappointed. “Lame way of pronouncing it—but yeah. No attachment.”

“But are you sure you won’t fall in love with me, though?” you teased, a mischievous smirk popped on your lips.

He rolled his eyes. “Good comeback,” he praised sarcastically. But then, the silence hung in the air as he bounced his eyebrows, sitting up straighter. “So,” he began, finally leaning forward, still waiting, and spoke again,

“Beef or bet? You choose.”

You glared at him for a moment, processing everything. Until.. with a sigh, you tilted your head, shrugged your shoulders, and gave him a nod.

He grinned, that mischievous glint in his eyes brightening. “Now that you agreed—” he dashed over to his car, opening the passenger door and gesturing toward it. “We should get started. You want to win a b***h—”

“I don’t want. a b***h—”

“—then we have some adjustments to do—many on our list. Let's go. Chop-chop!”

You groaned in frustration, “I haven’t even showered.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Makes no difference.”

“You—”

"Well, if you're really determined to clean your name—"

“All right, all right! Let’s go.”

Dominic’s grin widened as you made your way over to the passenger seat of his car all while rolling your eyes. He was already standing by the door, holding it open for you like a cocky gentleman.

Reluctantly, you climbed into the car, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but think that you might be in waaay over your head.

The two of you sat in a cozy booth at a trendy restaurant. Dominic leaned across the table with the energy of a self-proclaimed love guru while you—phone in hand, ready to take notes, watched him with a raised eyebrow, skeptical but just sliiightly intrigued.

“Alright, love. You want revenge? Lesson number one,” Dominic said, getting rid of his Coke that’s been ruining his view of the person in front of him.

You sighed, arms crossed, shooting him a look that said, This better be good. Finally, with a cocky grin, he dropped the bomb:

“Act Like You Don’t Care.”

You gave him the side-eye, but he was already launching into full explanation mode. “Be distant, be cool. Act like his existence didn’t even graze your radar. You were over it. Moved on.” You took the note seriously. The words scrambled in points on the app.

“Men are fragile.”

With a flourish of his hand, Dominic raised a finger to emphasize. “Nothing freaks us out more than realizing you might not be obsessing over us anymore. Men are—pretty much jackasses.”

“So you’re saying that you are?” you pucker your lips smugly, like you just found the juiciest facts. But watching Dom’s exhausted expression made you briskly purse your lips in resignation.

In a blink, Dominic’s eyes found back its twinkle as he explained further, “So—no acknowledging his existence, no replying to his texts, no over the top smiles. Look. Cynical eyes. And make him feel like an i***t. Ok. Lesson number two,” he paused, leaning back to take a ridiculously long slurp from his Coke, intentionally making you wait—

“Is this a price of selling my soul to stupidity—”

“Lesson number two.”

Dominic leaned forward again, lowering his voice like he was about to share top-secret information. “Remind him of what he’s missing. And for this, we need to—” once again, he looked up and down on your.. outfit, like he was presenting evidence at a trial before another of his mocking session, “Spice things up a little bit.”

Sighing in surrender, you demanded, “Ok first of all—what exactly is wrong with my outfit?”

Dominic shot you an exaggerated wtf look before blurting, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

"Hey! It’s comfort!”

“Well comfort steers guys away,”

“But you’re a guy?” you smugly corrected, eyebrows bounced in amused suspicion.

Dominic’s eyes narrow as he leans in, raising a brow. “This is why sometimes you gotta speak the truth to tone down one’s false confidence.”

And boom! You’re back on your ground, already regretting your life choices.

“No T-shirts. No Birkenstocks. No baggy jeans. Curls are wonderful—but please don’t look like you haven’t showered in two days.”

“W—what—”

“You’re well aware I’m just describing you right—”

“—why?!” you gasped, feeling like you’re in the middle of a throwing knife session—but it actually sliced you. Right on your face.

“Just so he wouldn’t think he’s taking an emo to a dinner with his parents.”

In other words, your mouth hangs open.

“So, emo. You need to look like you’ve got your life together, not like you’re about to drop out of a philosophy class because it’s too ‘mainstream.’”

Now your face contorts, half-offended, half-resigned, "So I’m an emo, now?"

Dominic just laughs, "There you go. Acceptance is a good first step."

“That’s not—!” but you resign, rolling your eyes as you retort, “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible—but right. You’ll thank me later.”

Walking back to the car, your arms already full of shopping bags, and surprisingly, he’s a gentleman. Dominic carried most of them, and the sight somehow.. brought an unexpected small smile to your lips.

“Anywayyyy just remembered I haven’t asked—what’s my part of the bet? What I gotta do?” you asked, glancing at him.

Dominic, fiddling with his car keys, gave you a sideways look. “Scarecrow,” he said, and as he turned to face you—you were already looking at him with your confused doe-eyes. He smirked slightly. “You just gotta be close to me.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Twenty-four/seven.”

“WHAT?! That’s so not what a scarecrow should be utilized—” you shouted. The thought of being with him all day, every day—from morning to night? Sent shivers down your spine.

…

But.. actually.. not really.. maybe it wasn’t as awful as you’d imagined. Spending the whole day together today..? This pretty much proved you wrong about.. a few things about him..? Though as quick as the thought messed up your mind, you shrug it off.

Already standing by the driver’s door, Dominic raised an eyebrow and bantered nonchalantly, “What? I need ultimate protection. And technically, you’re not a real scarecrow, dumbass.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, surrendering.

“Ten/seven.”

“Twenty/seven.”

“One/seven!”

“Oh, now that’s pushing it.”

“Come on! I’m not asking for too much on your part!” you protested, but Dominic shot you an annoyed look and practically shouted back,

“Not asking for too much?! You serious?! What an ungrateful. child! I’m betraying the brotherhood of men, one—I’m giving you a free makeover, two—three—”

“Okay, okay!” You waved him off. “Here’s how it’s gonna be. I’ll be there. Anytime you call, how’s that sound?”

He tilted his head, eyebrows raised, thinking it over. “You know that’s more tiring than just being there 24/7, right?”

You groaned, exasperated. “OHMYGOD—!”

“Okay, deal,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender before sliding into the driver’s seat. You followed and got in the car, watching him closely as he started the engine, your narrowed eyes full of suspicion.

“But you better not try anything funny,” you warned.

He smirked as he adjusted the handbrake, his tone playful. “Don't worry, love. I don’t mix business with pleasure. We gotta stay professional, you know,”

“Funny coming from you.”

Dominic scoffed, glancing over at you with that lopsided grin before shaking his head. Finally, his attention returned to the road as he shifted gears, focused now. Then, without looking at you, he said casually, “Okay, for the last lesson—”

“There’s a ‘last lesson’?!”

“Imagine my boiling. rage. hearing you condescending my part of the deal,”

You roll your eyes in surrender, finally-willingly to let him continue, “I’ll tell you right before the game. Just make sure you show up early, yeah?”

“Your baseball game?” you asked.

“Yeah. You said he never misses a game, right?”

“Y—yeah..?” you replied, a bit unsure.

And his grin widened, a sly look crossing his face as if he were about to reveal a golden ticket straight to hell.

“Then that’s the best place to give him a show.”