But Dad i Love Him

Chapter 2: Deal

The morning sun hit the brick facade of Oakridge High with an unbearable, sickly brightness. Every step I took from my mother’s car toward the main entrance felt like marching toward a scaffold. My phone was sitting in a locked drawer in my father’s home office, my eyes were swollen from a night of restless, anxiety-riddled sleep, and the heavy leather of my backpack felt like a ton of bricks weighing down my shoulders.

In the hallways, everything looked superficially normal, but to me, the world had shifted on its axis. Every laughing group of students felt like a potential threat. Did someone see me last night? Did Sarah and Chloe tell people they left me behind at the quarry?

"Maya! Hey!"

Chloe’s voice cut through the background noise of slamming lockers. She jogged up to me near the main staircase, her blonde pony-tail swinging effortlessly. She had a iced coffee in one hand and a look of practiced, shallow concern on her face.

"Where did you go last night?" Chloe asked, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "When the police light flashed through the trees, everyone just scrambled. We looked for you near the main path, but you weren't there! We were so worried."

I stopped in front of my locker, turning to look at her. The utter lie in her eyes made my stomach turn. They hadn't looked for me. They had panicked, jumped into Sarah’s car, and peeled out down the dirt road before the dust even settled.

"I found a way home," I said, my voice flat and cold.

Chloe blinked, taken aback by my tone. "Well, you don't have to be mean about it. We thought you took off with someone else. Anyway, did your dad freak out? You look totally exhausted."

"I'm fine, Chloe. I just need to get to class." I shoved my chemistry book into my bag and slammed the locker door shut, walking away before she could offer another empty apology.

My first three periods passed in a complete fog. I couldn't focus on AP English or European History. Every time a footstep echoed in the hallway, I expected my father to walk in with an escort to drag me to his office. But the real torture came during fourth period: study hall in the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a sprawling, noisy room filled with round plastic tables, smelling faintly of bleach and cheap pizza. I sat in my usual spot near the floor-to-ceiling windows, pretending to read my biology textbook. But my eyes kept darting toward the far corner of the room.

That was where Julian Vance sat.

He was alone at a four-person table near the back exit doors, wearing a faded black hoodie over his dark t-shirt. He had a pair of scuffed headphones resting around his neck, slouched back in his chair with an open notebook in front of him. He wasn't writing; he was just staring out the window, tapping a wooden pencil against the plastic tabletop in a steady, hypnotic rhythm.

I glanced at the teacher monitoring the room—Mr. Gable, who was fast asleep behind a folded copy of the local newspaper.

Taking a deep breath to steady my racing pulse, I slid my notebook into my bag, stood up, and crossed the cafeteria. Every step felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of fire. If my father walked through those double doors right now, I was finished. But I couldn't spend the rest of my senior year acting like a helpless victim.

I pulled out the chair directly across from Julian and sat down.

The wooden pencil stopped tapping. Julian slowly raised his head, dark curls falling over his forehead, and looked at me. For a second, a flash of genuine surprise flickered across his sharp features, but it was instantly replaced by his signature, unbothered smirk.

"Well, well," Julian leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "If it isn't the principal's golden girl. Shouldn't you be at least fifty feet away from me at all times? I'm pretty sure your dad drew a perimeter map."

"He took my phone," I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn't carry across the room. "And I'm grounded until the end of time. But that's not why I'm here."

Julian tilted his head, his dark eyes studying my face with a terrifying intensity. "Then why are you here, Maya? Coming to thank me for saving your track career?"

"Yes, actually," I admitted, swallowing my pride. "I am. You didn't have to take the blame last night. You could have told him the truth—that I was the one who asked for a ride, that I was out at the quarry. You took a huge risk for me, and I know what my dad can do to your academic record."

Julian scoffed, a quiet, bitter sound that barely made it across the table. "I told you last night, my record is already a dumpster fire. Adding one more match doesn't change anything. Your dad already thinks I'm a lost cause."

"You're not a lost cause," I said firmly, leaning forward. "And I don't like owing people favors. So, I want to pay you back."

"Pay me back?" Julian chuckled, resting his elbows on the table and leaning in close enough that I could see the faint green flecks in his dark eyes. "How are you going to do that, Princess? Give me your extra credit points?"

"I can tutor you," I said, ignoring his condescending tone. "I saw the midterm warning list posted outside the guidance counselor's office last week. You're failing Senior Literature and Algebra II. If you fail those, you don't graduate in June, no matter how many hours you work at the auto shop."

Julian’s smirk faltered slightly. The casual posture vanished, replaced by a rigid, guarded stillness. I had hit a nerve, and we both knew it.

"I don't need a tutor," he gritted out, his voice losing its playful edge. "Especially not the principal's daughter. Do you have any idea how fast your dad would kick my ass out of this school if he caught us studying together?"

"He won't catch us if we're smart about it," I insisted. "We can meet at the public library downtown after my track practice. He never checks up on me there. I'll help you pass your finals, Julian. It's the only way I can balance the scales."

Julian stared at me for a long, heavy moment. He tapped his fingers against his arm, clearly weighing his options. Just when I thought he was going to tell me to get lost, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips.

"Tutor me? No, that's too simple," Julian said softly. "If I'm going to risk getting expelled by associating with you, I want something better."

My eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"A cover," Julian said, leaning back and resting his chin in his hand. "See, my ex-girlfriend, Vanessa, has been stalking my shifts at the shop, making a massive scene every afternoon because she thinks we're getting back together. And on top of that, your dad is watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to slip up so he can send me to the alternative disciplinary center."

"What does any of that have to do with me?"

"If we're seen together—frequently, publicly—Vanessa leaves me alone because she hates you high-achievement types," Julian explained, his eyes glittering with mischief. "And more importantly, if your dad thinks we're... involved, he'll be so focused on keeping you away from me that he'll stop digging into my school records and my brother's probation files."

My heart did a violent flip in my chest. "You want me to... what?"

"Fake date me, Maya," Julian whispered, the words hanging between us like a physical charge. "Just for a few weeks. In front of the school, in front of your friends, and just enough for your dad to notice. In exchange, I'll let you tutor me so I can pass math, and I'll keep your dark little quarry secret safe forever."

"Are you insane?!" I gasped, my voice rising a little too high.

Across the room, Mr. Gable stirred in his sleep, shifting his newspaper before going quiet again. I slammed my hands onto the table, leaning in close to Julian, my face hot with disbelief.

"My dad will literally lock me in a tower if he thinks I'm dating you!" I whispered furiously. "He warned me specifically about this!"

"Exactly," Julian said, completely unfazed by my outburst. "Which gives you the perfect cover for why you're acting out. You're the rebellious teenager pushing back against her overcontrolling father. It makes perfect sense. Nobody will suspect you're actually meeting me to study polynomials."

"This is insane," I repeated, shaking my head. "It's dangerous, it's reckless, and it will destroy my reputation."

"Your reputation is already cracked, Maya," Julian pointed out, his voice dropping into a low, deadly serious tone. "Your 'perfect' friends abandoned you in the woods. Your dad doesn't trust you anyway. You can either play it safe and let your dad control every breath you take until college, or you can take control of the narrative."

I stared at him, my mind spinning into overdrive. Everything in my upbringing shouted at me to run away, to report this to my father, to stay inside the clean, safe lines I had drawn for my life. But looking at Julian—at his stubborn jaw, his guarded eyes, and the quiet strength he had shown in the rain last night—a terrifying spark of defiance lit up in my chest.

I was tired of being afraid. I was tired of being the obedient little puppet.

"Two weeks," I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to sound tough. "We fake date for two weeks. I tutor you three times a week at the downtown library. And the second your grades hit a C-minus, we 'break up' and never speak again."

Julian held my gaze for a long, agonizing pause. Then, slowly, he extended his right hand across the table. His palm was calloused from working at the shop, his knuckles lightly scarred.

"Two weeks, Princess," Julian said, his voice smooth as silk. "Deal."

I hesitated for a split second before reaching out and sliding my smaller hand into his. The moment our skin touched, an electric shock seemed to travel up my arm, making my breath catch in my throat. His grip was warm, firm, and entirely unyielding.

Before I could pull my hand back, the cafeteria double doors burst open.

My father stepped into the room, holding a clipboard, his sharp eyes sweeping the tables like a searchlight.

My heart stopped. I tried to yank my hand out of Julian's grip, but instead of letting go immediately, Julian slowly, deliberately intertwined his fingers with mine, keeping our hands resting right on top of the table in plain sight of the entire room.

"Rule number one of fake dating, Maya," Julian whispered, leaning in so close his breath brushed my ear as my father's eyes locked onto us from across the room. "Don't look guilty."