By the time first period rolled around, Imani had already counted eight wide-eyed stares, five whispered speculations, and two dropped jaws. It was like the school had collectively decided that Monday morning was meant to be a live drama episode, and she was the star. Walking through the hall with Noah had felt powerful..like reclaiming a crown snatched away by scandal.
Now came the hard part: playing the role.
Noah sat beside her in English class, his posture relaxed but alert, like someone perpetually braced for impact. He didn't say much not that she expected him to but when Mrs. Glen called on him to read a line from Romeo and Juliet, his voice was low and clear. Heads turned. Imani noticed a few girls shift in their seats.
"So, he talks now," whispered Jordan, the class clown, from behind them. "What else can he do, huh?"
Imani didn't even flinch. She leaned in closer to Noah and whispered just loud enough, "Ignore him. He's just jealous you're cuter."
Noah blinked. Slowly. Then looked back at the page.
Mrs. Glen glanced their way, lips twitching.
Imani smiled sweetly.
At lunch, they sat together.
That alone felt revolutionary.
Imani took her usual seat in the courtyard under the elm tree, flipping her braids behind her shoulder with the confidence of someone on a catwalk. Noah followed, tray in hand, and sat down beside her like it was routine. Kayla approached mid-bite with her strawberry smoothie and a bewildered look.
"Um… hey?"
"Hey, girl." Imani chirped, sipping her iced tea like she hadn't just flipped the social ecosystem on its head.
Kayla's eyes darted to Noah. Then back to Imani. "You're sitting with him?"
"Yes. We're dating now."
Noah raised a hand awkwardly in greeting.
Kayla blinked. "I..what? Since when?"
Imani gave her best pageant smile. "Since this morning."
Kayla sat slowly, still staring. "You good? Like… mentally?"
Noah glanced at Imani like he was wondering the same thing.
Imani rolled her eyes. "Listen, Malik and Tasha are not gonna ruin me. I'm not hiding or crying in the bathroom like some broken girl in a teen movie. We're flipping the script."
Kayla looked back and forth between them. "You don't even know him."
"I know enough."
"I barely know him, and I sit behind him in Physics. He literally never speaks."
"Exactly," Noah murmured.
Imani grinned. "He's a man of mystery."
Noah gave her a sidelong glance, and she swore she saw the corner of his lips twitch.
Throughout the day, they leaned into the charade. They walked between classes shoulder to shoulder. Noah carried Imani's books once. She linked her pinky with his in the hallway, just enough to spark whispers but subtle enough to keep people guessing.
"I think this is working," she whispered to him by fourth period.
He nodded once. "I noticed."
But by sixth period, it became clear the performance wasn't without its price.
"Imani, can I talk to you?"
It was Mrs. Rawlins, her literature teacher. A kind woman with glasses and empathy in her eyes. Imani lingered after class, waving off Kayla's curious look.
"I've been hearing some things," the teacher said softly. "About you. And Noah."
Imani crossed her arms. "Let me guess people think I'm using him to make someone jealous."
Mrs. Rawlins hesitated. "Is it true?"
Imani bristled. "Does it matter?"
"Only if you're hurting yourself, sweetie. Or him."
Imani's throat tightened, but she swallowed it down. "I'm fine."
The teacher nodded slowly. "Just know, my door's open. And you're more than whatever the gossip says."
By the end of the day, Imani was exhausted. Pretending was hard. More exhausting than she expected. Every smile was a calculated move, every hand touch choreographed.
She met Noah outside near the bike racks. He was waiting silently, sketchbook in hand.
"You good?" she asked.
He nodded, then opened the sketchbook. On the page was a quick charcoal drawing of two people sitting under an elm tree, shoulder to shoulder. She recognized the setting instantly.
"That's us," she said, stunned.
"Yeah."
He paused.
"You sure you're okay with this?" she asked softly.
"I said yes. Just… don't forget the rules."
She nodded. "No falling in love. No real kissing. No talking about personal stuff."
Noah looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes. "And no using each other to escape your real problems."
Imani bit her lip. "Got it."
They stood in silence. Then, she reached out, tugged his sleeve playfully.
"Ready for act two tomorrow?"
He offered a barely-there smile. "Break a leg."
As he walked off, Imani watched him go, her heart tugging in a way she didn't like.
This was all pretend.
So why didn't it feel like it?