Half a year to fall in love

The hallway roared with noise and movement, but the second Jace Reynolds stepped through the double doors, the air shifted. People stepped aside like the floor belonged to him. Heads turned. Girls whispered his name. Boys nodded in respect or envy. He was eighteen senior class president, basketball captain, rich, unfairly handsome. The tile probably thanked him for stepping on it. He headed straight for me. I sat at a table near the library, trying to finish my history work before class. Scholarship student, top of the year, invisible to most unless they needed homework copied. I didn't belong in his world, and I preferred it that way. But today, he decided otherwise. He stopped right in front of my table. His shadow fell over my books, blocking the light. I didn't look up at once. My hand stayed steady, until my pen stuttered and left a dark ink blot across the page. "Maya." His voice was deep, smooth, cold” not a question, a command. I lifted my head slowly. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling just right, grey eyes dragging over my notebook, my hands, my face — like he was deciding where to start. He didn't move out of the light "Jace," I said, closing my notebook. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you fail another math test and need me to write your paper again? Because last time I checked, I don't do free favors." A smirk tugged at his mouth” arrogant, unimpressed. "I don't need you to write my papers. I need you to be my girlfriend." I stared at him for half a second. I thought it was a joke or I had misheard. I looked around, half expecting someone to jump out and yell Gotcha! some stupid prank, some joke he and his friends thought up. But his face was serious. Dead serious. I let out a short, dry laugh. "Right. And I need a million dollars. We both want things we can't have. Move aside ” I have class." I reached for my bag, but his hand shot out, covering mine on the book. Firm, not rough just enough to stop me. His skin was warm, but his gaze stayed fixed. "I'm not joking, Maya." "Neither am I." I pulled my hand free. "Go ask one of your fan girls. There's a line waiting to throw themselves at you. I'm not interested." "I don't want them." His voice dropped lower. "I want you." I smiled the kind that makes teachers mark you down for attitude. "Funny. Last week you didn't even know my last name. What changed? Did your PR team run out of popular blondes to fix your reputation?" For the first time, his smirk faltered. Just a heartbeat his jaw tightening, eyes narrowing like no one had ever spoken to him that way. But he recovered fast, leaning closer again. "Listen carefully. People call me cold, a player who uses girls and throws them away. My father is breathing down my neck about my image. I need someone innocent, smart, someone who won't fall for me, someone who won't make a scene when it ends. Someone exactly like you." He said it like an insult, but his eyes never left mine. "I need a girlfriend who makes me look like I can actually care about something other than myself. And you fit the job perfectly." I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I am not a job, Jace. And I am definitely not your puppet. Find someone else." I turned to walk away, until his next words stopped me dead. "Your mother's hospital bills are due next week." The air left my lungs. I spun back around. He stood there, hands in his pockets, that familiar confidence back in place. His shoulders dropped half an inch. Deal closed. He was already counting his money. "How do you–” "That's the job." He took one slow step forward. "I know your father left. I know you live in that small apartment across town. I know you work weekends just to buy textbooks. And I know if you don't pay by Friday they will stop her treatment." He paused, letting the words sink in, enjoying the way my face fell, enjoying the power he held over me. "Here is the deal. Six months. You pretend to be my girlfriend in public, hold my hand, smile, come to games and parties. In private? We act like strangers. No feelings, no friendship. Just an act. "In return: I cover every bill, every expense, everything your family needs. No questions, no hidden strings, only those six months." He leaned in one last time, voice low and final. "So, what's your answer?" He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded slip of paper, holding it out between us. "Made out directly to the hospital. Full amount, plus enough for rent and living costs for a year. Sign the agreement, and it's yours." I stared at it. My fingers trembled slightly. I pressed them into my palm until it hurt, just to steady myself. It was everything I needed, everything I'd prayed for. But it came wrapped in conditions. "Why me?" I asked again, refusing to let him see how desperate I was. "Why not someone who actually likes you?" His smile could cut glass. "Because they would fall in love with me," he said simply. "And I don't want that. I need someone who sees me exactly as I am an arrogant jerk. Someone strong enough not to break, smart enough not to ruin the act and someone who needs this money so badly she won't dare tell anyone the truth." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that raised goosebumps up my arms. "You're the only one who can do this, Maya. The only one who doesn't want me which makes you the safest choice. Do this and I save your mother's life." "And if I say no?" I breathed. He shrugged, half-tucking the cheque back into his pocket, face blank and unbothered. "Then you find another way. But we both know there is no other way. No family left, no savings, no one else to ask. Right now you only have me." He turned as if to walk away, like my mother's health was nothing more than a business transaction. "Think about it. But not too long, the offer expires in twenty-four hours. And Maya, don't dare tell anyone about this, don't cross me. I always get what I want."