HIGHSCHOOL MYSTERY

SEASON 2

CHAPTER 12 : A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

I barely made it through the rest of the day without spiraling into a full-blown panic.

Brielle knew something was up. And if she wanted to expose me and Wes, she would.

So, naturally, when I found Wes after school by his car, I was ready to fight.

“This was your idea,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “You fix it.”

He leaned against his car, looking entirely too calm. “Fix what?”

I threw my hands in the air. “Brielle! She’s suspicious, and if she finds out we’re faking this, she’ll destroy me.”

Wes studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Alright. There’s one way to shut this down.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m scared to ask.”

He grinned. “We go on a date.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

I scoffed. “That’s the dumbest—”

“Think about it.” He pushed off his car, stepping closer. “Brielle’s not stupid. She’s watching us, waiting for us to slip. But if we go out, in public, it solidifies the story.”

I hated that this actually made sense.

I exhaled sharply. “Fine. One date. Then we’re done.”

Wes smirked, holding out his pinky. “Scout’s honor.”

I rolled my eyes but linked mine with his anyway.

This was a mistake.

A huge, terrible mistake.

But it was too late to turn back now.

CHAPTER 13 : THE FAKE DATE THAT FELT TOO REAL

The deal was simple: one public date to shut down Brielle’s suspicions. Nothing more, nothing less.

But somehow, I found myself standing in front of Luca’s Diner, my heart hammering against my ribs like I was walking into a real date.

Wes was already there, leaning casually against his car, looking unfairly good in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. When he saw me, his smirk deepened.

“You clean up nice, Tran.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed. “It’s just a sweater and jeans.”

He tilted his head, eyes flicking over me. “Still. Nice.”

I swallowed, ignoring the way my stomach flipped. This wasn’t real. It was a performance. That was all.

We walked inside, and immediately, heads turned.

Luca’s wasn’t just a diner—it was the diner. Everyone at Franklin High came here on weekends, which meant our audience was built-in.

Wes held the door open for me. “Ready?”

“No,” I muttered.

He chuckled. “Too bad.”

ACTING. THAT'S ALL THIS IS

We slid into a booth near the window. I could feel people watching, whispering. Brielle wasn’t here—but her spies were.

Wes leaned back, completely at ease. “Alright, Liv. Let’s sell this.”

I scowled. “Don’t call me that.”

He grinned. “But it makes me sound like a sweet, doting boyfriend.”

I groaned, shoving the menu in his face. “Just order.”

He laughed but did as I said.

The weird thing? The actual date part? It… wasn’t awful.

Wes was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t being a menace. He told me about his childhood—how he’d lived in three different states before high school, how football was the only thing that ever felt stable. In return, I told him about my plans for college, my obsession with books, and my strict-as-hell parents.

We bantered. We teased. We laughed.

And for a moment, I forgot we were pretending.

Then, just as I was about to take another bite of my fries, Wes suddenly reached across the table.

I froze. “What are you—”

He swiped a napkin, leaning forward. And before I could react, he brushed it against my cheek.

“You had ketchup,” he murmured, eyes locked onto mine.

I swore the entire diner disappeared.

For the first time since this ridiculous arrangement started, I felt something shift—something real.

His hand lingered for a second too long. My breath hitched.

Then he smirked. “Relax, Tran. Just playing my part.”

And just like that, the spell was broken.

I forced myself to roll my eyes, ignoring the warmth on my face. “You’re so dramatic.”

But as he leaned back, I caught the way his smirk faltered—just a little.

And I wasn’t sure which scared me more: the fact that this plan was working…

CHAPTER 14: THE LINE WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO CROSS

The problem with faking something for too long is that, eventually, it starts to feel real.

I told myself it was just the setting—the warm glow of the diner lights, the hum of quiet conversations around us, the way Wes looked at me like I was the most interesting person in the room.

But as the night went on, I realized something terrifying: I was enjoying this.

I was enjoying him.

And that was not part of the plan.

THE WALK THAT CHANGE EVERYTHING

By the time we left Luca’s, the air was crisp, and the sky was an inky blue, dotted with stars.

“Want me to drive you home?” Wes asked as we stepped into the parking lot.

I hesitated. I should have said yes. It would have been the logical choice. But instead, I found myself saying, “Actually… I think I’ll walk.”

Wes blinked. “You live, like, twenty minutes away.”

I shrugged. “I like the fresh air.”

Something unreadable flickered across his face. Then, to my surprise, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “Alright. I’ll walk with you.”

I stared at him. “You do know how cars work, right?”

He smirked. “Yeah, but this feels more cinematic.”

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

We started walking, the cool night air settling between us. It was quiet, except for the occasional distant sound of cars passing by.

And then, without thinking, I asked, “Did you mean what you said? At lunch?”

Wes glanced at me. “Which part?”

“The part where you told Brielle she was wrong.”

His smirk faded. He looked forward, silent for a moment. Then, he said, “Yeah.”

My heart did something weird in my chest.

I swallowed. “Even though this is fake?”

He stopped walking.

I turned to face him, but before I could say anything, he reached out—slowly, carefully—and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I froze.

His hand lingered for just a second. Long enough for me to feel my pulse skyrocket.

“This was supposed to be fake,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled where he touched me. “Wes…”

He dropped his hand, stepping back with a small smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Relax, Tran. Just playing my part.”

I knew he was teasing. I knew that was his default setting.

But for the first time since this whole thing started, I wasn’t sure if he was lying.

And that?

CHAPTER 15 THE ALMOST MOMENT

The walk home should have been normal. Easy. Forgettable.

Instead, it was none of those things.

Because now, every time our arms accidentally brushed, I felt it.

Every time Wes glanced at me, I noticed.

Every time he smiled, my stomach did this weird thing I didn’t want to name.

And I hated it.

I hated that this stupid experiment was getting to me.

I hated that somewhere along the way, I stopped reminding myself it was fake.

By the time we reached my house, my heart was still too unsteady.

“This is me,” I said, turning to face him at the bottom of my driveway.

Wes shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “So it is.”

Silence stretched between us. Not awkward, but… something else.

Something charged.

Something I didn’t know how to navigate.

Finally, I forced a small laugh. “Well… thanks for making this look real.”

Something flickered across his face. It was gone too fast for me to read.

Then, he took a slow step forward. “Liv.”

I sucked in a breath.

It was the first time he had called me that without teasing.

And it did something to me.

I didn’t stop him when he closed the space between us. I didn’t move when his hand brushed against mine.

For a split second, I thought he was going to kiss me.

For a split second, I wanted him to.

And then—

My porch light flicked on.

We jumped apart.

The spell was broken.

Wes let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess that’s my cue.”

I nodded, heart still racing. “Yeah.”

He took a step back, flashing me a small, crooked smile. “Night, Tran.”

“Night, Carter.”

I barely made it inside before pressing my back against the door, exhaling sharply.

This was a problem.

A huge problem.

Because if I wasn’t careful, I was going to forget that this wasn’t real.

And I wasn’t sure if Wes had already forgotten.

CHAPTER 16 THE LIES WE TELL OURSELVES

I didn’t sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I kept replaying the moment.

The way Wes had stepped closer. The way my breath hitched. The way—for just one second—I thought he was really going to kiss me.

And worse?

The way I felt disappointed when he didn’t.

It wasn’t real. I repeated it like a mantra. Over and over. It wasn’t real.

But if that was true, then why did my heart still race when I thought about it?

By morning, I had convinced myself it was just adrenaline. That I was overthinking everything.

So when I walked into school, I was determined to act normal.

Unfortunately, Wes Carter had no concept of normal.

THE DISTRACTION GAME

He found me at my locker before first period, grinning like last night had never happened.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

I nearly choked on air. “What—why—what?”

He smirked, leaning against the lockers. “Gotta keep up the act, right?”

I scowled. “Did you have to pick that nickname?”

“What, you prefer babe?”

I slammed my locker shut. “I prefer Liv—which you only use when you’re being serious.”

His smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered. “Damn. Caught on to that already?”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was hammering.

He was deflecting.

Which meant I wasn’t the only one

CHAPTER 17 CROSSING THE LINE

The problem with fake dating?

Eventually, you forget which parts are fake.

By the time Friday rolled around, Wes had somehow turned being my fake boyfriend into a full-time performance.

He stole my pens in class. He sat closer than necessary at lunch. He threw an arm over my shoulder in the hallways like it was nothing.

Like it wasn’t completely messing with my head.

And the worst part?

I let him.

I told myself it was just part of the deal. That I was only playing along so we wouldn’t get caught.

But then, at the worst possible moment, he ruined everything.

THE PARTY THAT CHANGE EVERYTHING

I don’t do parties.

Too loud. Too chaotic. Too many chances for something to go wrong.

But somehow, I ended up standing in the backyard of Luke’s house, holding a cup of soda, wondering how the hell I got here.

(Answer: Wes Carter.)

“You’ll survive,” he had said, dragging me inside. “Think of it as character development.”

I wanted to strangle him.

Instead, I stood awkwardly near the pool, watching as Brielle whispered something to a group of girls—her gaze flickering toward me.

I stiffened.

Wes, who had been very focused on stealing a handful of popcorn from Luke’s bowl, must have noticed.

Because suddenly, his arm was around my waist.

I froze.

“Relax, Tran,” he murmured against my ear. “They’re watching.”

Right. The act.

I forced a smile, ignoring the way my entire body went warm.

Wes, however, was entirely too comfortable. His fingers brushed against my side. His breath was warm against my temple.

I swallowed hard. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

His lips curved into a smirk. “Maybe.”

And then—he made it worse.

He pulled me closer. Not dramatically. Not in a way that would seem out of place.

Just enough that I could feel the heat of his body against mine.

Just enough that, if I wasn’t careful, I would lean in.

And I hated myself for it.

I hated how easy it was to pretend.

I hated how, for a moment, it didn’t feel like pretending at all.

Then Brielle stood up, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

And just like that, the moment shattered.

“I should go,” I mumbled, stepping back.

Wes let his arm drop, watching me carefully.

I turned away before I could see whatever expression was on his face.

Because if I had looked?

I might have seen that he was just as confused as I was.

CHAPTER 18 ONE NIGHT, ONE ROOM, NO WAY OUT

I was going to kill Wes Carter.

Not just because he was an arrogant, smirking disaster of a human being. Not just because he kept acting like this whole fake relationship wasn’t getting to him the way it was definitely getting to me.

No.

I was going to kill him because now, thanks to his brilliant idea to avoid Brielle’s party drama, we were stuck in his room.

All. Night.

How Did This Happen?

After escaping the party, Wes had somehow convinced me to come over instead of going home.

“My parents are out of town,” he had said with a shrug. “No one will bother us.”

“Not happening,” I’d replied immediately.

He had just smirked. “What, scared to be alone with me?”

I had scoffed. “You wish.”

But now? Sitting on his bed, his hoodie draped over my shoulders because of course I forgot a jacket—yeah.

I was definitely in trouble.

CLOSE QUARTERS, CLOSE PROBLEM

Wes leaned against the headboard, arms folded behind his head, watching me with lazy amusement.

“You look tense, Tran.”

“That’s because I am.”

He chuckled. “We’ve spent a hundred hours together this week. Why is this any different?”

Because we were alone.

Because there was no one watching.

Because I couldn’t pretend this was just an act when there was no audience.

I cleared my throat, forcing nonchalance. “I just don’t usually do sleepovers with infuriating jocks.”

His lips twitched. “Good thing I’m your boyfriend, then.”

I grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.

He caught it, laughing. “Violence already? At least wait until we get fake-married first.”

I groaned, flopping onto my back. “I hate you.”

“Liar.”

I didn’t respond.

Because the truth was, I didn’t hate him at all.

THE ALMOST KISS

At some point, the teasing stopped.

At some point, the silence shifted.

The only light in the room came from the glow of his bedside lamp, casting soft shadows along the walls.

I was still on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about how close he was.

Then, suddenly—

He moved.

Not a lot. Just enough for me to feel the mattress dip.

Just enough that when I turned my head, his face was right there.

My breath caught.

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to my lips.

And that was the moment I knew.

I knew if I didn’t stop this now, if I didn’t say something, something irreversible was going to happen.

Something that would ruin the very careful lie we had built.

But I didn’t move.

And neither did he.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His touch was warm. Gentle. Almost… hesitant.

Like he wasn’t sure if he should cross this line.

Like he wanted to anyway.

My heart pounded. My whole body waited.

Then—

He exhaled sharply and pulled back.

I blinked, dazed, as he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling like he was trying to control himself.

“Night, Liv,” he murmured.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

But as I turned onto my side, facing away from him, I knew one thing for sure.

This was no longer just a game.

CHAPTER 19 THE LINE WE FINALLY CROSSED

I didn’t sleep.

Not really.

Not when Wes Carter was right there, close enough that if I turned over, I’d see him. Close enough that I could still feel the warmth of his body beside me, even though we weren’t touching.

And worst of all?

I wanted to.

I really wanted to.

THE MOMENT THAT CHANGE EVERYTHING

At some point in the middle of the night, I shifted onto my side, curling into myself.

I wasn’t expecting Wes to move, too.

But he did.

Slowly, carefully—like he wasn’t even fully awake—he turned toward me.

I held my breath.

Neither of us spoke.

We just… lay there, facing each other in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the silence thick with something unspoken.

His gaze flickered down to my lips.

I swore my heart stopped.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said, “Liv.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t teasing.

It was something else entirely.

Something real.

I should have pulled away.

I should have said something sarcastic, made a joke, put up a wall.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I whispered back, “Yeah?”

His hand moved before I could process it, fingers brushing lightly against my wrist, trailing up to my palm.

It was such a simple touch. Barely there.

And yet, it felt like my entire body had just short-circuited.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

So when he leaned in—slowly, hesitantly—I met him halfway.

And then, finally, finally, his lips brushed against mine.

THE KISS THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN

It started soft. Careful. Like he was waiting for me to push him away.

Like he was giving me an out.

I didn’t take it.

Instead, I kissed him back.

And God, it was nothing like I expected.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a game.

It was slow, warm, impossibly gentle—like he was memorizing every second of it.

Like he meant it.

And that?

That was the part that scared me.

Because if Wes Carter meant it…

CHAPTER 20 THE NIGHT WE COULDN'T TAKE BACK

His lips were soft. Slow. Like he was giving me time to stop this.

Like he expected me to stop this.

But I didn’t.

I kissed him back.

And the second I did, everything changed.

Because this wasn’t fake.

Not anymore.

THE KISS THAT RUINED EVERYTHING

Wes let out a shaky breath against my lips before kissing me again—deeper this time. His hand slipped to my waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie that I was still wearing.

I felt everything.

The warmth of his touch. The way his heartbeat was just as fast as mine. The quiet, almost hesitant way he pulled me closer—like he was afraid I’d change my mind.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to change my mind.

But the second I gripped the front of his hoodie and pulled him closer, his restraint snapped.

His hand slid up my back, fingers tracing slow, dizzying circles. His other hand moved to my jaw, tilting my face just enough to kiss me deeper, like he was trying to make up for every second we had spent pretending this wasn’t real.

I didn’t stop him.

I didn’t want to stop him.

Because this was real.

And I had been lying to myself for too long.

THE AFTERMATH

At some point, we broke apart, both of us breathless.

Wes didn’t move away.

Instead, he pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing unsteady.

“Liv.” His voice was low. Rough. The way he said my name made my stomach flip.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

He exhaled slowly, thumb brushing against my jaw.

He didn’t say anything.

He just looked at me.

Like he was trying to figure out if I was going to run.

Like he wanted me to stay.

I didn’t know what to say.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I kissed him again.

And just like that, I knew—

There was no going back.

CHAPTER 21 THE POINT OF NO RETURN

The second time I kissed him, there was no hesitation.

No pretending.

No excuses.

Just us.

Wes made a quiet sound against my lips, something between a sigh and a groan, like he had been waiting for this longer than he wanted to admit. His fingers tightened against my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.

My hands found his shirt, fisting the fabric, as if letting go would break the spell.

I didn’t want to break it.

I wanted this.

And that terrified me.

THE SPACE BETWEEN US

Eventually—after what felt like forever but also not long enough—we pulled apart, both breathless.

The room was quiet except for our unsteady breathing.

Wes didn’t move away.

Instead, he traced his thumb along my cheek, his touch warm and careful, like he was afraid I’d disappear.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.

“I’m so screwed.”

I blinked, my heart still racing. “What?”

He let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “This was supposed to be fake.”

It should have been a warning. A chance for me to fix this before it was too late.

But instead of backing away, I whispered, “Does it still feel fake to you?”

Wes swallowed, his jaw clenching.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Because when he kissed me again—slowly, deliberately, like he was making a choice—

I knew.

CHAPTER 22 WHAT NOW?

We didn’t sleep.

Not in the way we were supposed to.

Instead, we lay there, tangled in the sheets, whispering in the dark like the night wouldn’t end. Like the outside world didn’t exist.

Like this was ours for just a little longer.

Wes traced slow patterns on my arm, his touch warm and absentminded. I watched him, taking in every detail. The way his lashes cast shadows against his cheekbones. The way his lips were still slightly swollen from kissing me. The way his entire body seemed relaxed for once, like he wasn’t carrying the weight of every bad decision he had ever made.

I had never seen him like this.

I had never felt like this.

And I had no idea what to do with it.

THE QUESTION WE COULDN'T ANSWER

Wes was the first to break the silence.

“So…” He smirked lazily, his voice rough from exhaustion. “Are we still fake dating, or did we just completely ruin the contract?”

I bit my lip. “Pretty sure fake dating doesn’t include that.”

His smirk softened, his fingers brushing against mine. “So what does that make us?”

My stomach flipped.

I wanted to answer him.

I wanted to say that we were something more now, that whatever we had started as was long gone.

But saying it out loud would make it real.

And if it was real, it could fall apart.

I hesitated.

Wes must have noticed, because his fingers curled around mine, squeezing lightly.

“Liv.” His voice was quiet. Steady. “Just be honest with me.”

I took a slow breath.

And then, instead of answering, I kissed him again.

Because words were too complicated.

Because I wasn’t ready to say it.

But I needed him to know this—whatever we had just done, whatever we had just become—wasn’t fake anymore.

It never had been.

CHAPTER 23 THE MORNING AFTER

I woke up to the sound of steady breathing.

For a second, I forgot where I was.

Then I felt it—the warmth beside me, the weight of an arm draped across my waist, the faint scent of cologne and something undeniably Wes.

And just like that, everything from last night came rushing back.

The way he kissed me. The way I kissed him back. The way neither of us could stop.

My heart pounded.

I needed to move. To think. To figure out what the hell this meant.

But when I tried to shift, Wes made a quiet noise, his grip tightening slightly.

And suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about anything except the way he was holding me.

THE LOOK THAT SAID EVERYTHING

A few seconds later, he stirred, his arm flexing as he stretched. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes.

And when he saw me—when he really saw me lying there, in his bed, wearing his hoodie, tangled up with him—he just… smiled.

Not a smirk. Not that cocky grin he wore like armor.

Just a slow, sleepy, real smile.

“Morning, Tran,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

I swallowed. “Morning.”

For a long second, we just stared at each other, neither of us moving.

Like we were both waiting for the other person to freak out first.

Like we both knew there was no pretending anymore.

The Almost Goodbye

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. “I should go.”

Wes was still lying down, watching me with an unreadable expression. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

But I didn’t move.

Because the truth was, I didn’t want to go.

I wanted to stay wrapped up in this quiet, hazy morning where nothing else existed. Where it was just us.

Wes sat up slowly, his gaze locked onto mine.

And then, before I could second-guess anything, he reached out, his fingers curling lightly around my wrist.

“Liv.” His voice was soft. Careful.

Like he was waiting for me to pull away.

Like he didn’t want me to.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Because for the first time since this whole thing started, I wasn’t sure what came next.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what I wanted to come next.

But I knew one thing for sure—

Whatever we had now?

It was real.

And there was no going back.

CHAPTER 24 EXPOSED

By the time we pulled into the school parking lot, my stomach was in knots.

Wes had driven us in, acting way too relaxed for someone who had spent the night tangled up in a very not-fake way with his fake girlfriend.

Meanwhile, I was in full-blown panic mode.

Because last night was supposed to stay between us.

No one was supposed to know.

But the second I stepped into the hallway, I realized—

Everyone already did.

The Pictures That Changed Everything

It started with whispers.

Then stares.

Then I caught sight of Brielle and her group huddled near the lockers, their phones out, eyes flicking to me and Wes.

I barely had time to react before Hannah rushed up to me, shoving her phone in my face.

And my stomach dropped.

There, clear as day, were pictures of last night.

Wes and me, together.

Some were blurry, taken from a distance—us standing too close at the party, his arm around my waist.

But others?

Others were worse.

A shot of us slipping into his car together.

A picture of me in his hoodie, walking up to his house.

And the worst one—

A clear, unmistakable image of us in his bed, lying way too close, his arm draped over me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The caption?

“FAKE DATING? YEAH, RIGHT. LOOK AT THESE TWO.”

I froze.

The hallway spun.

People were staring. Whispering.

And beside me, Wes cursed under his breath.

I turned to him, my pulse racing. “Who—who took these?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know.”

But his eyes were dark.

Because whoever it was…