The Summer We Pretend

Chapter 5: Rule Number One

Rule Number One was simple.

Don't develop feelings.

I knew this because Maya had written it in bold letters, underlined it twice, and then added:

THIS MEANS YOU, ETHAN.

I had laughed when I first saw it.

Now, two weeks later, I wasn't laughing anymore.

It was a Thursday afternoon when Maya and I were sitting in the library.

Technically, we were studying.

Technically.

Maya had three books open in front of her.

I had one.

Mine had been on the same page for twenty minutes.

She finally looked up.

"You're staring."

"I'm thinking."

"At the same page?"

"It's a complicated page."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're terrible at studying."

"I'm excellent at studying."

"You've been reading the same paragraph for twenty minutes."

"I like the paragraph."

"You don't even know what it's about."

I looked down.

She was right.

I cleared my throat.

"Something about... symbolism."

She smiled.

"Impressive."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, liar."

I smiled back.

That had become our thing.

She called me a liar.

I pretended to be offended.

Then we'd move on.

It was easy.

Too easy.

That's what bothered me.

Before Maya, I didn't really have to think about what I said around people.

I could charm my way through almost anything.

Maya didn't let me.

She noticed things.

When I was avoiding a question.

When I was pretending to be okay.

When I was joking because I didn't want to answer seriously.

Especially that last one.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I was thinking."

"About?"

"You."

She froze.

I froze.

For half a second, neither of us said anything.

Then I laughed.

"See? You're getting nervous."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're an idiot."

"That was smooth."

"It wasn't."

"It worked."

"It absolutely did not."

She went back to her book.

But I noticed the corner of her mouth was still slightly raised.

I looked at my own book.

Rule Number One.

Don't develop feelings.

Easy.

Completely under control.

Obviously.

An hour later, we left the library.

The sun was already starting to drop behind the buildings.

Maya checked her phone.

"Can you take me somewhere?"

I looked at her.

"That sounds suspicious."

"It's not."

"That's exactly what someone suspicious would say."

She ignored me.

"There's a bookstore downtown."

"You want to go to a bookstore?"

"Yes."

"You realize that's basically your natural habitat, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're an English literature major."

She gave me a look.

"Finally remembered."

"I remember everything."

"You forgot my favorite author."

"That was one time."

"You forgot my coffee order."

"That was also one time."

"You forgot the name of my dog."

"You don't have a dog."

She stared at me.

I grinned.

"I was testing you."

"You're impossible."

"Yet you're still dating me."

She stopped walking.

I stopped too.

For a second, we just looked at each other.

Then she shook her head.

"Fake dating you."

"Right."

"Important distinction."

"Very."

She started walking again.

I followed.

But something about those two words stayed in my head.

Fake dating.

I didn't know why.

The bookstore was small.

Old.

Quiet.

The kind of place where everything smelled like paper and dust.

Maya immediately disappeared between the shelves.

I found her ten minutes later sitting on the floor with a book open on her lap.

"You disappeared."

"I was looking."

"You could've told me."

"You would've followed me."

"Obviously."

She looked up.

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"Because that's what boyfriends do."

She stared at me.

I corrected myself.

"Fake boyfriends."

"Better."

I sat beside her.

"What are you reading?"

She showed me the cover.

I didn't recognize it.

"Is it good?"

"I've read it three times."

"Three?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

She hesitated.

"Because it reminds me that people can change."

I looked at her.

"Do you believe that?"

"Sometimes."

"And sometimes?"

She closed the book.

"Sometimes people just get better at hiding who they are."

There was something behind her words.

Something heavier than a random opinion about a book.

I wanted to ask.

I almost did.

Then I remembered the contract.

No personal questions unless voluntarily shared.

So I didn't.

Instead, I pointed at another book.

"That one?"

She smiled.

"You wouldn't like it."

"You don't know that."

"I know you."

"Do you?"

The question came out quieter than I intended.

Maya looked at me.

Her expression changed.

Just slightly.

"I think I'm starting to."

My chest tightened.

She looked away first.

I pretended not to notice.

We left the bookstore around sunset.

Maya carried two books.

I carried the other three.

"You don't have to carry those," she said.

"I know."

"Then why are you?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Fake."

"Right."

"You're really attached to that word."

"Just making sure we're following the rules."

"Good."

She smiled.

We kept walking.

A few minutes later, a little girl ran past us toward her mother.

She was laughing.

Maya watched them.

Her smile faded.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Yeah."

I didn't believe her.

But I didn't push.

We reached my car.

Before she got in, she looked at me.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"The books."

"I didn't buy them."

"I know."

She looked down.

"For today."

I leaned against the car.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

She smiled.

Then she opened the door.

Before getting in, she added quietly,

"You're nicer than I expected."

I laughed.

"Wow. That's almost a compliment."

"Don't get used to it."

She got into the car.

I walked around to the driver's side.

And for the rest of the drive, I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said.

Not because she thought I was nice.

Because she sounded surprised.

Like she hadn't expected anyone to be.

That night, I was lying on my bed when my phone buzzed.

Maya: You awake?

I smiled.

Me: Unfortunately.

Three dots appeared.

Maya: Can I ask you something?

I sat up.

Me: Sure.

A minute passed.

Then:

Maya: Why did you lie to your dad?

I stared at the screen.

There it was.

The question I'd been avoiding.

I typed.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Me: Because I didn't want to disappoint him.

She replied almost immediately.

Maya: That's not the whole reason.

I frowned.

She knew.

Of course she knew.

I finally typed:

Me: He thinks I don't have a direction.

Another message.

Maya: Do you?

I stared at those three words.

I didn't have an answer.

Not a funny one.

Not a charming one.

Not one I could fake.

So I told the truth.

Me: No.

The typing bubble appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Maya: Me neither.

I smiled.

Me: You're better at pretending.

Maya: So are you.

I looked at the ceiling.

For the first time, I realized something.

Maybe that was why this worked.

We weren't pretending because we were completely different.

We were pretending because, underneath everything, we were both scared of the same thing.

Not knowing what came next.

My phone buzzed again.

Maya: Goodnight, Ethan.

Me: Goodnight, Maya.

I put my phone down.

Then picked it up again.

I opened the contract.

Scrolled to Rule Number One.

Don't develop feelings.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I locked my phone.

Because there was one problem.

I wasn't sure anymore if I was following the rule.

And I was even less sure that Maya was.