If agreeing to a fake date, Ethan Donovan felt surreal, walking beside him in the school hallway was straight out of a dream—one of those confusing ones where everything looked familiar but nothing made sense.
The hallway chatter dipped into whispers the moment we passed. Heads turned. Eyes widened. Girls clutched their phones like they couldn't wait to start texting.
Ethan leaned closer, his voice low but amused. "Told you they'd notice."
"This is insane," I muttered, hugging my books tighter.
"Welcome to the spotlight, Scarlet."
He said it like it was no big deal, like I hadn't spent years perfecting the art of invisibility. My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Everyone was looking at me. Not through me, not past me. At me. I couldn't remember the last time I was the subject of such intense attention. At first, it felt like I was suffocating under the weight of their gazes.
We reached my locker, and I fumbled with the combination, the lock seeming to stick under my trembling fingers. Ethan leaned against the one next to mine, his posture casual, as if he hadn't just completely upended my world. He stood there with the ease of someone who was used to being noticed, used to being the center of attention. Me? I was just used to blending into the background. Now, that was impossible.
I finally got the locker open and quickly shoved my books inside, doing my best to ignore the knot in my stomach. "So, you free after school?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence.
I blinked, trying to focus. "Um… for what?"
"Fake boyfriend duties," he said with a grin. "We need to be seen together. There's a coffee shop near the rink. My treat."
My mind raced as I processed his words. This was still part of the deal, right? It was just a show, nothing more. But something about hearing him say it so casually made it feel more real. I couldn't just back out now. I wasn't sure I could, even if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to. Something about Ethan's presence it wasn't just about the fame or the attention. It felt… easy. Natural, almost. But I wasn't going to let that distract me from the fact that this was still a farce. A lie.
"Right," I said, my voice uncertain as I fumbled with the lock again, only this time, the words didn't come out as confidently as I intended. "Sure."
Ethan smiled, and just like that, my world shifted again. With a small nod, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving me standing there, still holding the lock, as if I could somehow keep it from spinning out of control.
I stood there for a full minute, trying to breathe. This wasn't me. I wasn't the girl who dated anyone, let alone the guy girls wrote poems about on Instagram. But now I was. Or at least pretending to be. The thought made my stomach turn, but it also made something else stir. A strange sense of anticipation. Could I really pull this off? Was I willing to throw myself into this madness and see where it led?
Later that afternoon, I found him waiting by the school gates, still in his team jacket, still looking like every high school fantasy ever made. It was like he had stepped out of a magazine ad or a movie poster. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his athletic build making him stand out even more than usual. And then there was me, trying not to feel like a complete fish out of water.
"You came," he said, flashing me a smile that made my heart skip a beat.
"Of course," I said, trying to sound confident. "I said I would."
We walked to the coffee shop, a small place tucked between a laundromat and a bakery. It was cozy and quiet, oddly perfect for a fake date. The door chimed as we entered, and I was immediately hit with the comforting scent of coffee and cinnamon rolls. Ethan ordered for both of us without asking, like he had done this a thousand times. I didn't even like caramel lattes, but I didn't argue. If this was going to work, I'd have to play my part. Even if that meant pretending to like something, I didn't.
When the drinks were handed over, we found a small table near the window. I couldn't stop glancing around, half expecting someone to burst through the door and call us out on our little charade. But nothing happened. People sat at their tables, absorbed in their own worlds, none of them knowing that two high school students, one a star athlete, the other an invisible nobody, were playing pretend.
"So," Ethan said, settling in across from me, "ground rules."
I nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest. "Okay."
"No falling in love," he said, looking at me with those intense blue eyes of his. "This is a job, Scarlet. A job with an expiration date."
I couldn't help but snort into my drink. "Trust me. That's not a concern."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Good. Because I'm not looking for anything serious. You're not my type."
I felt a strange sting at that. "I'm not looking for anything serious either," I said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly.
He studied me for a moment, as if weighing my words, but then nodded. "Right. This stays between us. We'll act like a couple in public walking together, sitting together, maybe some hand-holding if it looks natural. But nothing crazy. No PDA. No kissing. Just enough to make people believe it."
I swallowed, my mind racing. "Got it."
"If you ever want out, just say the word," he added, his tone softer now. "I'll handle the fallout. It's not like anyone will care for long, anyway. You and me? We're a temporary thing. No strings attached."
I stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he was lying, but all I saw was sincerity. Or maybe I was just telling myself that. This was Ethan Donovan, after all. He wasn't the type of guy who did things halfway. He was the type who went all in, even if it was all for show.
"Why me, though?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Really?"
His gaze dropped to his coffee cup. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then, in a voice that seemed almost reluctant, he spoke. "Because you don't want anything from me. Everyone else wants something, attention, popularity, a story to brag about. But you… You didn't even flinch when I sat down at your table. You just looked at me like I was a person, not some celebrity. You're different. And I need something different."
I couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at my lips. "I flinched internally," I muttered.
He laughed with an easy, genuine sound that made my stomach flip. "Still, you're different. I need that."
For a moment, we sat in silence, the air thick with something unspoken. Then, without warning, Ethan reached across the table and brushed his fingers against mine.
"People are watching," he murmured.
I looked around and saw two girls from our school at a nearby table, their eyes wide and their phones discreetly angled our way. The thought of being watched sent a fresh wave of anxiety over me, but I did nothing to pull away. I let his hand stay there, warm and steady.
And just like that, the first picture of us went online.