My Fake Boyfriend Is My Biggest Rival

The Whole School Knows

Twelve steps past the front gates, tops, before somebody said my name loud enough for me to catch it.

"That's her."

"The girl from the post."

"Told you it was real."

"Wait, her and Luca Hayes? Seriously?"

I slowed down without meaning to. Told myself maybe it wasn't about me. Some other Harper, some other post, sure.

A phone flashed off to my right. A girl fixing her ponytail with the camera angled a little too obviously at my face. Some guy elbowed his friend and jerked his chin at me, not even bothering to be subtle.

Great. Wonderful. My stomach did the thing where it just kind of falls out from under me, and I gripped my backpack strap and kept my head down and walked faster. Don't look at anybody. Don't react. Maybe if I didn't feed it, the whole thing would just die on its own by lunch.

Lasted about twenty seconds, that plan.

"Harper!"

I looked up anyway, couldn't help it. Three juniors were camped outside the admin building, and one of them had a smile plastered on way too early in the morning for it to be natural.

"How long have you two been together?"

Another one already had her phone up, recording. "Did he seriously kiss you in class?"

"Was Noah cheating on you this whole time?"

"Okay but is Luca actually a good kisser?"

My face went hot in about half a second. "Late for class," I mumbled, and got past them before anyone could ask the next one. Laughing behind me the whole way down the hall.

Westbrook had never sounded this loud. Lockers banging shut, a teacher yelling attendance through an open door, somebody's music leaking out of their headphones near the far end of the hall, all of it normal noise I usually tuned out without trying. Not today. Every scrap of it seemed to have my name folded into it somewhere.

"...Harper..."

"...dating Luca, apparently..."

"...I genuinely can't believe it..."

"...thought they hated each other, though?"

I got to my locker and pressed my forehead against the metal, just for a second, cold enough to actually help a little.

One day. Get through one day.

"You look like a girl seriously weighing her transfer options."

Didn't have to turn around for that one. "I am."

"Homeschool's supposed to be nice this time of year."

I turned around anyway. "You."

"Me," he agreed, entirely too pleased with himself, wearing the navy varsity jacket like he'd been born in it, backpack slung off one shoulder, hair somehow doing that thing where it looked good without trying. How does a guy who plays football not have a single hair out of place at eight in the morning. Some people just don't sweat right, I guess.

"You did this."

"Didn't post anything, last I checked."

"You started it."

"I saved you from it."

"You also blew up my entire life, so."

He tilted his head, actually considering that one. "Yeah, fair."

"That's it? That's the whole response?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"An apology, maybe?"

"Said sorry yesterday already."

"And?"

"Meant it, too."

That easy grin of his dropped just enough that I almost believed him. Almost. Which was extremely unhelpful of my brain right at that moment.

"You don't seem bothered by any of this."

He glanced around the hallway, where at least six people were badly failing to look like they weren't staring. One guy had his phone straight up, filming outright. Luca just waved at him, big and obvious, and the kid nearly dropped the phone trying to look away.

Luca laughed. "Had a camera on me since freshman year, Bennett. This is Tuesday."

"I'm not you, though."

"I know."

"I hate this."

"I know."

"I don't want the whole school talking about me."

"I know that too."

"Would you stop saying you know?"

"But I do know it," he said, quiet, no joke behind it at all. That threw me worse than any of the teasing had.

I didn't get a chance to answer, because right then someone rammed into my shoulder hard enough that my books went everywhere.

"Oops. My bad."

Fiona Reed, looking down at the mess without the faintest urge to help.

"So clumsy," she said.

"You walked into me."

"Guess we remember that differently," she said sweetly, and her two friends laughed like it was scripted.

I dropped to grab everything, and before I got to my chem textbook a hand beat me to it. Luca, handing it over without a word.

Fiona's smile tightened up. "Luca."

"Morning."

"Wondering if you forgot about the fundraiser meeting."

"Didn't forget."

"So." Her eyes cut to me. "Busy right now?"

He put my last notebook in my hands. "Yeah."

She waited.

"With Harper."

Nobody said anything for a second too long. One of Fiona's friends actually looked back and forth like she expected a punchline any second. Nothing came.

Fiona crossed her arms. "Didn't realize she needed a bodyguard."

"I don't," I said fast, shooting Luca a look that was supposed to mean *the rules, remember the rules, don't overdo this.*

He caught it. Then, because apparently he lives to make my life harder, he smiled. "I just like walking my girlfriend to class."

Girlfriend. The word sat in my head longer than it had any right to. My girlfriend. Fake, all of it fake, and my pulse still skipped like an i***t the second he said it out loud in front of people.

Fiona's face didn't do much, but I caught the flicker under it before the smooth mask slid back into place. "Hope you know what you're doing," she said.

"So do I," he said back.

She looked at me one more time. "See you around, Harper." My name coming out of her mouth like that landed less like a goodbye and a lot more like a threat with good manners.

The bell went off before I could unpack any of that, and the hallway emptied fast. He fell into step beside me anyway.

"You good?"

"Pretty sure your fake girlfriend's getting an ulcer out of this."

"Add it to the rulebook."

"New rule, actually."

"Go on."

"No calling me your girlfriend unless people are actually watching."

He glanced over his shoulder. "There's like thirty of them right behind us."

I checked. He wasn't exaggerating, not even a little.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I do."

"So stop it."

He took a second on that one. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Luca."

"The more convincing we look, the faster this dies down."

"That is not how rumors work."

"It's how it works on a football field."

"This isn't a football field."

He leaned in, low enough that it was just for me. "Trust me on this one, Bennett."

Hated how easily those five words landed somewhere in my chest and just stayed there. Because under everything else going on, some annoying, stubborn little piece of me already did.