Fake It Till You Mate Him

You can’t avoid me

Juniper’s POV

The Next Morning

Sometimes, when that heavy feeling hits, it's like your soul's still trying to hit snooze. But then, a little spark ignites, whispering, "Okay, time to shake this off and own the day."

I stared at the ceiling for a second too long before dragging myself out of bed.

“Ahh,” I groaned. “You can do this Juniper!”

That was a lie.

I stood in front of my mirror and immediately regretted it.

My hair was a mess. My eyes looked like I had lost a fight with my thoughts and lost badly.

“Fantastic,” I whispered.

I reached up, and pulled my hair out of the bun, paused, and fixed it back.

Tilted my head.

“…should I really be fixing my hair?”

I narrowed my eyes at my reflection. “And I’m so late to class!”

I grabbed my glasses, put them on, took them off, wiped them unnecessarily, then put them back on again like that would somehow fix my life choices.

My room looked like a disaster.

Clothes on the bed, notes everywhere. My bag half opened like it had already given up on me.

And the worst part?

I knew exactly why I was dragging this out.

Because if I left early, I’d run into Nolan. And I wasn’t about to stand there and have a ‘good morning’ conversation when there’s nothing good about the morning.

I exhaled, grabbing my bag. “Let’s do this!”

I padded over to the door, my ears straining for any noise. Just silence.

I cracked the door open slowly, peeking into the hallway like I was doing something illegal. Nothing, no sign Nolan.

I practically bolted out, shutting the door behind me with a decisive snap. Didn't even risk a look towards his room, just focused on getting away. I walked, then I ran.

By the time I turned the corner toward the main hallway, a familiar laughter erupted. I slowed my footsteps. My stomach dropped before I even saw them.

Nolan and Mabel were standing close to each other by the lockers. She was laughing, head tipped back slightly, like whatever he said was the funniest thing in the world. Him on the other hand was leaning in, looking at her like she mattered.

Anger twisted in my chest.

I should’ve kept walking, I didn’t. And that was my biggest mistake, because Nolan looked up and saw me, and the laughter immediately stopped.

His expression changed, just slightly. Mabel followed his gaze, her smile didn’t. If anything, it sharpened.

“Juniper,” Nolan said.

Like nothing happened, like last night didn’t exist. I swallowed, and forced my feet forward.

“Morning.”

It sounded normal, fake even. His eyes dragged over my face, my hair. Then, a slight frown passed his face.

“You’re late.”

I almost laughed.

“Mind your business!”

It came out before I could filter it. Silence drifted between us, thick enough to weave a blanket.

Before, I would have regretted snapping at Nolan, especially since he always says it spikes his anxiety. But now? I honestly didn't give a damn.

Mabel’s brows lifted slightly, and Nolan’s jaw tightened. Before I could say another word, a voice sounded behind me.

“Damn…” it came low, almost amused. “Walked into a funeral?”

My eyes closed briefly. Tristan. He stepped up beside me, close enough that I felt it.

And Nolan definitely noticed, because his gaze snapped to him, then back to me. Slower this time.

“What are you doing with him?” Nolan asked.

I blinked. “I’m going to class.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Tristan huffed softly. “She answered you.”

Nolan didn’t look at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Tristan smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “You just keep reacting because I’m here.”

Mabel let out a small laugh, the sound sharp and knowing as she leaned against the locker. “You two are still doing this?”

Tristan’s gaze stayed locked on Nolan for a beat longer before he finally turned toward her. The corner of his mouth curled into a slow, mocking smile.

“Doing what exactly, Mabel?”

“This,” she said, waving a hand between them like she was clearing smoke. “Whatever this is. It’s old. You guys have been circling the same drain for years. Some of us are trying to move on.”

Nolan shifted uncomfortably beside her, jaw tight.

Tristan scoffed, the sound low and bitter. “Says who? The one who just hopped on my d**k barely forty-eight hours ago?”

The room went dead silent.

Mabel's face flushed crimson, eyes widening in genuine shock before narrowing into slits.

Nolan’s head snapped toward him so fast it was audible, the color draining from his face. “What the f**k, Tristan. Still on this?”

Before Mabel could speak, Nolan stepped forward, his voice rough but steady, protective in a way that made my stomach twist.

“She hopped on yours forty-eight hours ago? Well she’s hopping on mine this time. We’re together now, Tristan. You don’t get to throw that s**t in her face like you own her. She’s done with your games.”

The words landed like a slap across my own face. My hands tightened on the strap of my bag. Tristan’s eyes narrowed, and Mabel’s expression shifted from panic to something closer to relief, her hand brushing Nolan’s arm in silent gratitude. She looked at Tristan with fresh venom.

“See? He knows what we have. You’re just bitter because I finally chose someone who’s better than you.”

Tristan laughed, cold and humorless, pushing off the wall.

“He chose? He’s better than me? Tristan is no where better than me. You’ve been f*****g us both for months, Mabel. You use him because he’ll buy you dinner and tell you you’re special. You come to me because I don’t lie to you. I f**k you like you deserve and send you back to him with my marks still on your thighs. And I don’t give a single f**k about your little domestic fantasy. The only reason I’m saying it now is because you decided to open your mouth like you’re above this.”

Nolan’s hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t pull away from Mabel. Tristan on the other hand, remained his focus on them.

I remained perfectly still, breath shallow, watching it all unfold like a spectator at a car crash I couldn’t look away from. None of them had acknowledged my presence once the argument ignited. I was in the middle of their banter, their history, their messy, destructive love, yet I might as well have been a ghost.

Nolan suddenly stepped closer, his focus snapping back to me.

“You should go,” he said.

That tone, like he still had a say. My fingers tightened around my bag strap. Before I could answer, Tristan leaned slightly closer to me.

Close enough that his voice didn’t carry.

“He doesn’t like that,” he murmured.

My breath caught.

“What?” I whispered.

“The way you talk back,” he said. “You never used to.”

Something about the way he said it, made my stomach twist.

“I don’t care what he likes,” I said quietly.

His eyes flicked to mine, something unreadable there. Then he straightened.

“She’ll go,” Tristan said calmly. “When she’s ready.”

Nolan’s eyes snapped to him.

“And who are you to decide that?”

Tristan didn’t flinch. “No one,” he said.

Then, in a smaller tone. “That’s the point.”

Silence. Mabel's fingers grazed Nolan's arm, a soft, sweet touch. I looked away quickly, not wanting to see.

“I’m already going,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

I stepped forward, breaking whatever that moment was.

“Enjoy your morning.”

Mabel smiled. “Oh, we will.”

I didn’t look back, but I felt Nolan watching me. Tristan too.

…

The lecture hall was packed by the time I arrived. I nudged the door open, and Professor Hale's gaze found me instantly. A moment later, Tristan was right behind me. The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My chest felt like it was being squeezed.

“Sit,” he said.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I practically ran to my seat, my hands trembling. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, not daring to glance at Tristan or anyone else.

The test paper hit my desk with a soft thud, and I just stared at it. My mind was a total blank, a complete void. All those conversations from earlier were still buzzing around in my head, drowning out any chance of remembering what I was supposed to be doing.

I pressed my pen against the paper, trying to think. And then, I felt that stare. I looked up across the room to see Tristan looking at me like earlier. He tilted his head slightly, then mouthed:

Silly.

A beat.

Still empty.

I glared at him, and slowly raised my hand and showed him my middle finger.

His lips twitched, not a full smile. Like he enjoyed it more than he should, and then he leaned back like he had all the time in the world.

I hated that. I turned back to my paper, and forced myself to write. By the time professor Hale called time, I was done writing.

“Juniper.”

I froze, and locked up to see Professor Hale.

“Yes, sir?”

“Office. After this.”

My stomach dropped. “…okay.”

“As for the rest of you,” he continued, “group project.”

I let out a groan, can today be any worse?

Names started being called, one after the other.

“Juniper Hayes… Tristan Hale.”

I closed my eyes briefly. No way! This has to be a f*****g joke.

I raised my hand. “Sir, can I—”

“No.”

Didn’t even let me finish. I dropped my hand slowly. Across the room, Tristan was already looking at me.

After class, I packed slowly. Trying not to think.

“Juniper.”

I froze, that voice. I didn’t turn immediately, I didn't want to, but I did. Nolan was standing just a few steps away, looking at me, not angry. Something in between.

“Can we talk?” he asked simply.

Like he expected me to say yes. I stared at him, for a second, just a second, the old habit almost kicked in.

Then I shook my head. “No.”

His brows pulled together. “Juniper—”

“I said no.”

My voice was steady this time. Silence stretched between us.

His jaw tightened.

“You’re really going to act like this?” he asked.

I let out a small breath. “I’m not acting,” I said.

And then, I walked past him, and didn’t look back. And this time, I didn’t feel like I was leaving something behind.