The Fake Dating Pact: Not Your Doormat

If embarrassment were lethal, my corpse would have been rotting on this basketball court right now, staring up at hundreds of eyes.

The bestie who gaslit me into traveling all night to confess my love was currently sucking face with the guy I came here for.

Brodys voice was ice. Who told you to come?

It burns through my dignity like acid.

I turned to flee this hellscape. Thats when RemingtonBrodys roommateblocked my path. He let out a low, dark chuckle.

"My girlfriend brought me a cake. Whats it to you?"

I found them at the courts. Brody had Lacey pinned against the bleacher railing.

I gripped the ribbon of the cake box until my knuckles turned white. Lacey froze for a millisecond when she saw me. Then, she wrapped her arms around his neck. And deepened the kiss.

The heat was suffocating. Id spent twenty-four hours in a cramped train seat to get here, and now the world was tilting on its axis. My head swam.

The roar from the bleachers felt like needles stabbing my eardrums.

"Told you Brody would bag Lacey."

"Took them long enough."

"Pay up, man! Cash only!"

My strength evaporated. The flowers and cake in my arms suddenly weighed a ton. My phone screen was still glowing with Laceys last text.

Brody is at the courts. Come confess! Now!

The sky turned a bruised purple. The wind picked up, whipping hair across my face. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I just needed to leave. I turned and sprinted toward the exit.

"Keira!"

Laceys voice. Frantic. Wobbly. "Its its not what it looks like! Let me explain!"

My body ached. My eyes burned from lack of sleep. The exhaustion settled deep in my bones, mixing with a humiliation so sharp it made my teeth ache.

I didn't have the energy to process why. Why she hyped me up. Why she baited me here just to make me watch them make out.

I felt a tug on my shirt.

Lacey had caught up. Her face was pale, stripped of its usual flush. She looked panicked. She tried to shove Brody toward me, her voice trembling with that practiced victimhood.

"Keira, please. Just talk to Brody"

Brody didn't move. He tightened his grip on Laceys hand, anchoring her to him. "Stop the drama, Lacey," he said, his tone flat. "Why are you so eager to give your boyfriend away?"

Lacey refused to let go of my shirt. But she didn't let go of Brodys hand, either. We were locked in a twisted standoff.

Brody glanced down. He saw the tears welling in Laceys eyes. His expression darkened instantly. He turned that glare on me.

"Who told you to come?"

His voice was a lash.

"Can't you see I'm busy?"

Twenty-four hours of travel. A sleepless night. A heart pounding with hope. All for a cold-blooded dismissal.

The words died in my throat. I couldn't breathe.

I ripped my arm out of Laceys grip. I was ready to crawl into a hole and die.

"I told her to come. You got a problem with that?"

The voice cut through the humidity. Cold. Even.

Remington.

He stepped out of the shadows near the bleachers. Tall. Lethal grace. He lifted heavy lids, locking eyes with me.

"Keira. Come here."

My heart stuttered. I hadn't seen him since high school graduation. I was the girl who handed him his Valedictorian trophyand then promptly tripped over the podium, tackling him to the ground in front of the entire student body.

Now, he was Brodys college roommate. Apparently, my life is just a highlight reel of humiliation.

Brody scoffed, his face twisting in annoyance. "Remington, stay out of this. Tell her to go back to wherever she came from."

Remington let out a short, dark laugh. "You confused, man?"

He stepped closer, his presence sucking the oxygen out of the air.

"My girlfriend is here to drop off a cake for me. Why is that any of your business?"

Because of that one lie, I ended up at the birthday dinner. Sitting next to Remington. Masquerading as his girlfriend.

The air in the booth was thick enough to choke on.

Lacey kept glancing at me. Her fork pushed food around her plate, creating sad little piles of untouched pasta, but she didn't take a bite.

"Why are you staring at her?" Brody slammed his fork down. He turned to Lacey, his voice softening into that protective coo that made my stomach turn. "Eat. Don't be scared. No one is going to bully you here."

That was the trigger. The dam holding back twenty-four hours of exhaustion and rage finally cracked.

I stared dead at Brody. "Be specific. How exactly am I bullying her?"

Brodys jaw clenched. The muscle feathered under his skin. He didn't answer.

I swiveled to Lacey. "Are you terrified of me, Lacey? Or did you do something you should be ashamed of?"

Lacey went white. She shook her head frantically. "No I"

Remington slid a glass of iced cranberry juice toward me. The condensation was cold against my fingers. "If she's that skittish, maybe don't drag her out in public," he drawled.

He reached into the center bowl and grabbed a handful of pistachios.

Crack.

He split a shell open. The sound was sharp, like a gunshot in the silence. He tossed the nut into his mouth, eyes dancing with mockery.

"Peel it quietly," he murmured, loud enough for the table to hear. "Don't want to scare her to death."

A snort erupted from across the table. Then a giggle. Someone choked on their beer trying to suppress a laugh.

Laceys face turned a mottled, ugly red. She mumbled something about the restroom and bolted from the table.

Halfway through the party, I hit a wall.

My social battery was dead. Drained. I needed an escape hatch. I saw Remington step out to take a call, so I used the opportunity to slip away, following him into the corridor.

I just wanted to say thank you. Id traveled hundreds of miles to get humiliated, and he was the only one who didnt treat me like roadkill.

The hallway was dim. Remington stood at the far end, his back to me. His voice was low, the baritone ricocheting slightly off the tiled walls.

"push the meeting to Monday. No, I don't care if the Dean is asking."

I froze. He was the Student Body President. He was supposed to be running a board meeting tonight. He blew it off. To come to this trainwreck of a dinner.

I stopped a few feet away, waiting for him to finish.

Remington turned. He saw me. His voice clipped. "Calling you back."

He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket. His gaze drifted over me. "What's wrong?"

"Tonight," I managed. "Thank you."

Remington didn't respond immediately. He leaned back against the windowsill, crossing his arms. He studied me. Quiet. Intense.

I was about to check my face for smudged mascara when he spoke. "Theme park tomorrow?"

My brain stalled. "With me?"

"Who else?"

Remingtons lips quirked into a half-smile. "Saw your post on Instagram. You wanted to go, right? Can't let a trip go to waste."

The window was cracked open. A night breeze ruffled his dark hair, tugging at the collar of his white dress shirt. He looked so relaxed. So unbothered.

And for some reason, that casual kindness hurt more than Brodys cruelty.

The tears Id been fighting back all night surged up. My throat tightened painfully. I jerked my head down, aggressively wiping the corner of my eye.

"Thanks. I'll I'll buy you dinner. To pay you back."

Remington didn't answer. The silence stretched. I braced myself. He was going to mock me. He was going to call me a crybaby.

Then, his voice dropped. A slow, lazy drawl.

"Its a date, Girlfriend."

Remington left early to deal with the student council mess. I went to the restroom to splash cold water on my face. When I walked out, I ran straight into Lacey.

She was waiting for me. There was a fresh, red bite mark on her lip. The sight made my stomach turn.

As soon as she saw me, the waterworks started. "Keira I'm so sorry. I never thought it would end up like this. Please, just forgive me? Please?"

Disgust roiled in my gut. Like physical nausea.

I slapped her hand away. I pulled out my phone. "How much was the hotel?" I asked, my voice flat. "I'll Venmo you the money for the booking."

Lacey froze. Her eyes went wide.

"Keira I'm sorry." Her voice wobbled. "I forgot to book the hotel."

The words floated in the air. I stared at her. My ears were ringing.

Forgot?

Was this really the girl Id called my best friend for years?

She insisted. She told me to handle the train ticket and she would handle the accommodation.

"Lacey, you did this on purpose."

It wasn't a question.

Lacey bit her lip, looking up at me with those wide, innocent doe eyes. "I'm so sorry! Every hotel near campus was booked solid. And Brody he was just being so relentless, I got distracted. I totally forgot."

She reached for me again. "Just crash at my dorm tonight. Okay?"

I didn't want to look at her. I turned to leave.

Lacey grabbed my wrist. Hard. "Keira, wait. I forgot to tell you something."

She lowered her voice, dripping with fake concern. "Remington likes someone else. He only helped you earlier out of pity. Please don't get your hopes up. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

The sheer toxicity made my skin crawl.

I looked at her. Really looked at her. The careful manipulation. The performative concern.

I ripped my hand away from her grip. "Are you a psychic now? You know exactly what's going on in Remington's head?"

Lacey didn't answer. She stumbled back.

It was a performance worthy of an Oscar. I barely touched her, but she crumpled to the floor, landing in a fragile heap.

Her breathing suddenly turned ragged. Harsh wheezing sounds scraped against the silence.

Suddenly, I was flying backward.

Brody slammed into me, shoving me aside with enough force to rattle my teeth. He scooped Lacey up, his face twisted in fury.

"Did you put mangoes in that cake?"

I stared at him, cold and unmoving.

"Answer me!" he roared. "You know Lacey is allergic! Are you trying to kill her?"

Thats when I saw it. Laceys lips were turning a terrifying shade of violet.

I knew she was allergic. Everyone knew. But Lacey was the one who explicitly told me to put them in.

"Brody loves mangoes," she said. "Put extra in for him."

1:00 AM. The ER waiting room.

Lacey was wheeled into treatment. The doctor walked out, looking exasperated. "She knows she's allergic, right? Why did she eat three slices? Does she have a death wish?"

Brody spun around. His eyes were dark, heavy with accusation. "Lacey is lying in there hooked up to machines. Are you happy now?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the shaking in my hands. "Brody, are you actually brain-dead? Lacey knew the mangoes were in there. She chose to eat them. How is that my fault?"

Brodys expression turned icy. "Drop the act, Keira. I know why you're really here."

He stepped closer, towering over me.

"You can't stand that we're together, can you? So you buy a cake laced with the one thing that can kill her?"

I looked at him. Really looked at him. The boy I had loved for seven years was gone. Or maybe he never existed.

In that sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway, clarity hit me like a physical blow.

I regretted everything.

Back when he stayed late to tutor me in Calculus when he joked, "What would you do without me, Keira?" I shouldn't have read between the lines.

I shouldn't have assumed it was love.

The realization hit me harder than the exhaustion. My chest tightened. A physical squeeze.

I hadn't slept in twenty-four hours. My heart stuttereda chaotic, thumping rhythm battering against my ribs. Thump. Thump. Pause.

I closed my eyes. Forced my lungs to expand. I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the emergency dial. 9-1-1.

Before I could hit the button, a hand shot out.

Brody ripped the phone from my grip. He spiked it onto the hospital tile.

Crack.

The screen shattered. Plastic and glass skittered across the floor.

"Enough!" he snarled. "How long are you going to drag this drama out?"

I stared at the debris. Slowly, I crouched down. I gathered the jagged shards. The broken screen cut into my thumb, but I didn't feel it.

I stood up. And hurled the wreckage straight at his face.

I might have loved him for seven years. But I wasn't his doormat. I still had a spine.

"Doctor," I rasped, turning to the stunned physician. "Call the police for me."

That was it. My tank was empty.

The room spun. Black spots danced in my vision, swallowing the light. My knees buckled. The floor rushed up to meet me.

I braced for the impact. It never came.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders. Steady. Solid. An anchor in the chaos.

A scent enveloped me. Clean soap. Sharp peppermint. It flooded my senses, cutting through the smell of hospital antiseptic.

Remingtons voice vibrated above me. Cool. Controlled. "She hasn't eaten since yesterday. Its likely hypoglycemia. Get her some glucose."

Consciousness was fading, fraying at the edges. But I heard it. The beep of a keypad.

Then Remingtons voice, devoid of warmth.

"Yes. Id like to report an assault."

A packet of glucose gel later, the world stopped spinning. Color returned to the room.

Remington had finished his call. He was leaning against the wall, staring at Lacey. His gaze was a physical weight. Cold. Unblinking.

Lacey shrank back, burying her face in Brodys chest like a frightened child. "I I just tasted a tiny bit," she whimpered. "The cake was just sitting there it was meant to be eaten."

Remington didn't blink. "Strange," he deadpanned. "The doctor said your reaction suggests you ate a hell of a lot more than a 'tiny bit.'"

He checked his watch. "We'll let the security footage clear that up when the officers get here."

Back in high school, Lacey was terrified of authority. If a cop car even rolled past us, shed trip over her own feet trying to hide behind me.

Now? She was catatonic.

I gave the officers the full rundown. The facts. The timeline. The cake.

One of the cops pointed to the security footage playing on the monitor. "You knew you were allergic," he said, his tone flat with disbelief. "But you ate three slices? You couldn't taste the giant chunks of fresh mango in the filling?"

Lacey went ghost white. "I'm sorry" she sobbed, shrinking into herself. "I was just I had a sugar craving. I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again."

Head down. Shoulders shaking. The full wounded bird act.

And just like that, Brody folded. "It's fine," he murmured, his voice softening. "Just control your sweet tooth next time, okay?"

The whiplash was jarring. One minute he's screaming at me like I'm a murderer, the next he's coddling the girl who staged her own anaphylactic shock.

Lacey sniffled, leaning into him, eyes wet and pleading.

I wasn't having it.

I grabbed Remington's phone. I unlocked itno passcodepulled up my Venmo QR code, and shoved the screen in Brodys face.

"Lacey ate my cake. You smashed my phone."

I stared him down. "The police are watching. The doctor is watching. Pay up."

Remington didn't miss a beat. "I'm a witness," he drawled, crossing his arms. "My girlfriend has sustained significant property damage."

Brodys face contorted. He looked at me like I was something he stepped in. "Keira," he spat. "Are you serious? You're nickel-and-diming me right now?"

"You told me to get the hell out of your life," I shot back. "Am I supposed to thank you for destroying my phone on the way out?"

Brody looked at the cops. The officers stared back, unimpressed. He didn't have a choice.

He pulled out his phone.

Ping.

Transfer complete.

Remington stepped forward. He wrapped a strong arm around my waist, taking my weight. "Let's go."

We turned to leave. Brody watched us walk away. His eyes locked onto Remington's hand on my waist.

His expression wasn't just angry. It was venomous.

I walked out of the hospital and didn't stop.

I marched down the alleyway, my pace accelerating with every breath. Fast. Faster. I needed to outrun the memory of the last twenty-four hours.

I turned a corner onto a deserted street. My legs finally gave out. I collapsed onto the concrete, burying my face in my knees to stifle the scream building in my throat.

The summer night was silent. Heavy. Vines of purple wisteria spilled over the rusted iron fence of an old apartment complex, dropping petals onto the asphalt.

The streetlamp above flickered, casting weak, yellow light. Two shadows stretched across the ground.

Mine. Small. Crumpled.

And Remington's. Tall. Still.

"Let it go," he said. His voice was low, blending with the hum of the city. "I'm a vault. No one hears this but me."

The dam broke.

A guttural sob tore out of my throat. It scraped against my chest, raw and agonizing.

I had a plan for this trip. I had played out every scenario in my head. Even rejection. I told myself that if Brody said no, it was fine. I still had Lacey. We would go get tacos, get wasted, and laugh about my tragic love life.

I was ready for a broken heart. I wasn't ready for the acid burn of humiliation. Or the knife Lacey twisted in my back.

My chest heaved. I couldn't breathe.

Remington didn't hover. He stood just behind me, blocking the wind. He didn't touch me. He didn't offer empty platitudes. He just stood guard, giving me the privacy to fall apart without an audience.

I stayed there until my tears ran dry. Slowly, I stood up. My head throbbed. My eyes felt swollen shut.

"Thank you," I rasped. "For today."

Remington didn't look at my face. He kept his eyes glued to his phone screen, scrolling aimlessly. "Sun's up in three hours," he said. "Go get some sleep. We'll push the theme park to the day after tomorrow. Deal?"

My voice was a rusty hinge. "Deal."

Blue and red lights flashed against the brick wall. A police cruiser rolled up to the curb. The window hummed down. A uniformed officer leaned out, smiling familiarly.

"Remington. This the friend?"

Remington nodded. "Yeah. Hotels are booked solid. Nancy said she has the guest room prepped. Mind dropping her off?"

"Not at all," the officer said. "Hop in, kid."

I froze, looking back at Remington. He met my gaze, his expression unreadable.

"I figured you wouldn't trust a stranger right now," he said simply. "That's my uncle Jeff. He'll get you there safe."

It clicked.

He knew my trust was shattered. He knew I wouldn't feel safe in a random Uber, and right now, I probably didn't even trust him completely. So he called in the cavalry. Family. A cop.

I opened my mouth to thank him again, but the words died on my tongue. Id said it a dozen times already. It felt cheap.

I switched gears.

"Day after tomorrow," I said, trying to find my voice. "Dinner is on me."

Remington smiled. A real one. "You said that already, too."

He saw me floundering, so he reached past me and opened the cruiser door. "Go. See you in forty-eight hours."

The door slammed shut. Before I could wave, the car peeled away. I watched him fade into the rearview mirror, a lone shadow swallowed by the night.

Nancy lived in the housing complex near the precinct. It was a fortress. I crashed. Hard. I slept for twenty-four hours straight. A coma of exhaustion.

When I finally peeled my eyes open, sunlight was streaming across the duvet. My phone blinked with a message from Remington.

Text me when you wake up.

My brain rebooted. I checked the time and shot up in bed. The theme park. The date.

I scrambled into my clothes, adrenaline spiking. I was going to be late. I sprinted to the entrance, lungs burning, chest heaving.

Remington was there.

He was sitting on a bench near the gates, long legs sprawled out in front of him, ankles crossed. He looked infuriatingly relaxed. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, dusting his dark hair in gold. He looked like a magazine spread come to life.

I skidded to a stop, doubling over to catch my breath. "How long have you been waiting?"

Remington stood up. He reached out and dropped a baseball cap onto my head, tugging the brim down to shade my eyes.

"Just got here," he lied, his voice rich with amusement. "Right on time, Girlfriend."

Then, without hesitation, he laced his fingers through mine. My entire body went rigid.

Remington stepped into my space. He lowered his head, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

"Don't look back," he whispered. "Brody is right behind you."

My stomach dropped. Then I heard it. Laceys voice.

Of course. Because the universe has a sick sense of humor. I couldn't go anywhere without tripping over them.

I made a choice. I wasn't running today.

I leaned into Remington, pressing my side flush against his arm. I looked up at him, feigning intimacy.

"Let's do the Haunted House."

Lacey treats haunted houses like radioactive zones. She avoids them at all costs. But when the staff started sorting groups, she walked right in. Clinging to Brody.

"Keira! I was calling you didn't you hear me?"

Brody didn't look at my face. His gaze dropped to where my hand was locked in Remington's. It lingered thereheavy, cold, judgmentalbefore he snapped his eyes back to Remington.

"Team up?"

Remington glanced down at me. "I don't care," I said, keeping my voice flat.

"Fine by me," Remington said.

Great. The four of us. Stuck in a narrow, pitch-black corridor. The moment we stepped inside, the lights died.

Lacey immediately buried herself in Brodys chest. "Brody, I'm so scared!"

I was terrified, too. My heart was hammering against my ribs. But my pride was stronger than my fear. I wasn't going to plaster myself against Remington like Lacey was doing with Brody.

I kept a respectable distance. But my hand betrayed me. I was squeezing Remington's fingers so hard I was probably cutting off his circulation. I walked fast, trying to outpace the darkness.

Remington felt the slick sweat on my palm. He squeezed back. Firm. Grounding.

"Slow down," he murmured. "We'll get out."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. A blast of refrigerated air hit my back, sending a shiver down my spine. I sped up.

Then, a blood-curdling scream tore through the air. Lacey.

I flinched violently, stumbling forward. Before I could hit the wall, a hand yanked me back.

Hard.

I collided with a solid wall of muscle. Remington wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against him.

The artificial cold vanished. I was instantly enveloped in heat. His body was a furnace.

"Shh"

His breath was hot against the shell of my ear. I felt the ghost of his lips graze my skin.

"The 'ghost' is right there," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You almost ran straight into him."

Somewhere to the left, Lacey was sobbing hysterically. I didn't care. My dignity evaporated.

I buried my face in Remingtons shirt, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding on for dear life. "Don't let him come over here," I pleaded, my voice muffled against his chest. "Please. Keep him away."

I felt Remingtons chest vibrate. A silent laugh. "I got you."

The sound of dragging chains scraped against the concrete floor. Closer. Louder.

Remington didn't flinch. He pressed my head deeper into his shoulder, shielding my eyes. He turned to the actor in the shadows.

"Hey, man. Cut us some slack?" he said, his tone easy, charming. "My girlfriend is a little jumpy."

The actor let out a frustrated growl, rattled his chains one last time, and stomped away into the darkness.

The threat was gone. But Remington didn't let go. And I didn't pull away.

The silence in the corridor was heavy.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I couldn't tell whose heart was beating fastermine or his. His breathing was ragged, shallow. The warm air fanned across my forehead.

In the dark, pressed against him, the air shifted. This wasn't just fear anymore. This was something else.

10

"Can you walk?"

Remingtons voice was a vibration against my temple. Rough. Low. Barely a whisper.

Heat scorched my cheeks. I realized I was still clinging to him like a lifeline. I started to peel my fingers from his shirt. "Sorry I"

Remington didn't let go. He tightened his grip, anchoring me to him. "Don't apologize."

The words landed softly, feather-light against my chest. His palm burned through the thin fabric of my shirt. A brand.

I glanced up. Caught Brody staring.

His eyes were dark, a turbulent mix of emotions I couldn't parse. Regret? Jealousy? Then he severed the connection, looking away sharply.

The rest of the walk was a blur. The actors left us alone, sensing the shift in energy, but Lacey screamed enough for all four of us.

Remington didn't release me until we stepped back into the blinding afternoon sun. My arm was streaked with dust from where Id brushed against a wall. I ducked into the restroom to scrub it off.

The door swung open.

Lacey.

"Keira, why have you been icing me out?"

I looked at her in the mirror. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, I saw the effort. The perfectly curled hair. The dress curated for Instagram angles. She was looking at me with those big, wobbling eyes. The professional victim.

I dried my hands, crumpled the paper towel, and turned to leave without a word.

Laceys voice pitch spiked. "Keira! Were we ever actually friends? I thought youd be happy for us. I thought youd give us your blessing."

That was the trigger.

I spun around. My laugh was a jagged, ugly sound. "Lacey, do you even have a brain?"

Lacey flinched, stinging from the tone. "I know you liked him, Keira. But it's your own fault for not going to our college. I was here. I was watching him for you every day I'm human. I caught feelings."

"Then why gaslight me into coming here to confess?"

"Because I was losing my mind!" she cried, wringing her hands. "I wasn't planning on dating him! He ran up and kissed me, and you know I can't say no"

"Stop."

I cut her off. My voice was cold steel.

"You're 'innocent.' You're 'weak.' You can't say no to a kiss. You can't say no to cake you're allergic to. And somehow, Im always the one paying the price for your lack of a spine."

I stepped closer, forcing her to look at me. "You have the nerve to ask if I treat you like a friend? Look at what you did to me."

Laceys mouth opened and closed. Her rimmed eyes overflowed. Silence.

"Lacey? You done?"

Brodys voice drifted in from the hallway.

Lacey wiped her eyes aggressively. She looked at the floor, her voice a tragic whisper. "It's all my fault. I ruined everything for everyone."

She looked up, trembling. "Fine. I'll just break up with him. That's what you want, right?"

She shoved the door open and sprinted out without looking back.

11

Brody only caught the tail end of that sentence. He lunged. His fingers dug into my bicep, a vice grip that made me wince.

"What did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I just told her we're done."

Brody let out a sharp, disbelief laugh. "Are you twelve, Keira? You're using your friendship as leverage to force her to dump me?"

"I didn't hold a knife to her throat. I'm not her mother." I stared at his hand on my arm. "If she wants to dump you, that just means your game is weak. Don't pin your insecurities on me."

Brody snapped. The facade of the nice guy completely crumbled. He yanked me toward the park exit.

"If I can't find her, you're leaving. Now."

"Are you insane?" I dug my heels into the pavement. "I paid for a ticket. Touch me again and I'm calling the cops. Again."

"Who do you think you are, Keira?" His face was a mask of cold fury. "You wrecked my life. You chased off my girlfriend. Don't I even have the right to ask you to leave?"

He dragged me past the food stalls, stopping at the edge of the carousel plaza. He pointed a shaking finger.

"Look."

"That is Remington's actual girlfriend."

I looked.

Remington stood in a patch of dappled sunlight. A girl in a plaid mini skirt hopped off the merry-go-round. She bounded up to him, grinning, and snatched the soda right out of his handthe one he had bought for me.

Remington didn't stop her. He just looked resigned.

Brody shoved his phone in my face. The screen brightness stung my eyes. "How do you think he knew you were homeless that night?"

I read the text thread.

Brody: Bro, GF is here, can't leave. Handle Keira for me. She has nowhere to crash.

Remington: OK.

Brody pocketed the phone, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Do you still think he's into you? You're just a charity case, Keira. A nuisance to everyone involved."

I froze.

Ive always been a coward when it comes to love. That's why I hid in the shadows for seven years, pining after a guy who never looked at me.

I wasn't doing that again.

I didn't look at Brody. I didn't acknowledge his taunts. I started walking. Straight toward Remington.

Remington clocked me when I was still ten feet away.

The girl was chattering excitedly, bouncing on her heels. Remington placed a large hand on her head and shoved her behind his back. Shielding her.

I stopped in front of him. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my voice was steady.

"Who is she?"

12

Remingtons lips pressed into a thin line. Before he could utter a word, the girl popped out from behind his back like a jack-in-the-box.

"Hi! I'm Remington's sister. You must be my future sister-in-law!"

The adrenaline that had fueled my march over here evaporated. I blinked. My brain short-circuited.

Actual sister?

Remingtons expression was stone. He placed a hand on her shoulder and physically pivoted her away from us. "Your friends are waiting. Get lost."

Oh.

Remington looked tense. His jaw was tight.

Stevie took two steps, then spun around on her heel, sprinting back to us. The words fired out of her mouth like a machine gun.

"Wait, are you Keira? My brother is obsessed with you! He still keeps that yearbook page you wrote for him back in high schoolMmph!"

Remingtons hand clamped over her mouth. "Shut up. Leave."

He shoved her a few feet away. Stevie stumbled but kept grinning, yelling over her shoulder as she ran off.

"Bye, Sister-in-law!"

Silence crashed down on us. We stood there, frozen.

The carousel music kicked back in, a cheerful, calliope melody that mocked the thick, awkward tension in the air. Laughter erupted from the ride behind us.

I felt Remingtons gaze land on my face. Heavy. He cleared his throat. "She has zero filter. Don't listen to a word she says."

I stared at my sneakers. "So my soda?"

"She hijacked it. I'll buy you another one."

"I meant the yearbook thing."

Remington choked. He didn't deflect this time. He reached out, his fingers closing around my hand. His grip was firm, warm, possessive.

"Yeah. The yearbook thing."

I remembered it. Vividly.

Senior year. Graduation was looming. Simon, our class president, had walked in carrying a stack of thick cardstock pages.

"For Remington. If you have time, write a graduation message."

It was weird. Remington was the schools Ice King. High altitude, low temperature. I didn't peg him as the sentimental type who wanted a keepsake book.

But Simon insisted. He said Remington had prepared small thank-you gifts for everyone who signed.

I didn't really know Remington back then. Not really. While Simon lectured the class, I grabbed a pen. I scribbled a few generic words at the bottom of the page: "Happy Graduation. Good luck with everything."

I signed my name.

I got the gift, too. It was a keychain. At the time, it was my favorite character. I thought it was a coincidence.

13

"That feels so ancient," I laughed, shaking my head. "Why pass around a notebook? We all had iPhones back then."

A breeze swept through the plaza, carrying the heavy, sweet scent of blooming lavender. Remingtons voice drifted through the wind. Soft. Intentional.

"To get your name."

The wind swallowed the end of the sentence. I frowned slightly. "To what?"

Remington didn't answer. He just smiled. A slow, guarded smile that made my stomach do a traitorous flip.

I found myself grinning back.

The sun bled out of the sky, leaving behind streaks of indigo and charcoal. The Central Plaza was packed. Body to body. Everyone was waiting for the fireworks.

I scouted a spot with a killer view and pulled Remington down onto the grass with me.

Night settled in. The humidity broke. The air filled with the buzz of the crowd, the rustle of wind in the trees, and the distant hum of crickets. It was the sound of summer.

My phone vibrated against my leg.

Lacey.

I stared at the screen for a second, then slid my thumb across it. Her sobbing hit my ear instantly.

"Keira please. Can you forgive me? I know I messed up. I swear, I won't get back together with Brody until you forgive me. Okay? Please?"

The white-hot rage Id felt earlier was gone. It had burned itself out, leaving behind a cold, hollow clarity.

"Is this moral blackmail, Lacey?"

"If I don't say yes, I become the villain. I become the bitter, selfish friend standing in the way of your true love. Is that the play?"

The line went silent, except for her wet, jagged breathing. She didn't deny it.

I let out a short, tired laugh.

"Lacey, he's just a guy. If you want him, take him. But you played me. You made me a joke."

"That," I said, my voice steady, "is something I will never forgive. Do you understand?"

I tapped End Call.

Remington didn't ask. He didn't pry. He just reached over and handed me a perfectly peeled orange segment.

"It's starting."

Orchestral music blasted from the park speakers. Boom. A massive firework detonated overhead, shattering the darkness in a shower of gold and crimson.

The castle stood silhouetted against the explosion. Blinding. Beautiful.

14

The seven-year ache was finally over. The bitter, unrequited obsession that had consumed my entire youth died tonight.

I turned my head. Remington was already looking at me. There was a stray leaf stuck to his forehead, caught in his dark hair.

The noise around us was deafening. The crowd was screaming, the music was vibrating in my chest. If I spoke, he wouldn't hear a thing.

So, I tapped my own forehead, signaling him to brush it off.

Remington froze. He stared at my finger, then at my eyes.

Boom.

The finale ripped the sky open. A dozen fireworks detonated at once, painting the world in blinding white and gold.

Under the canopy of falling light, Remington lowered his head. And pressed his lips against my forehead.

It wasn't a gentle peck. It was a brand.

A jolt of electricity started at the point of contact and shot down my spine, frying every nerve ending in its path.

I froze.

The sky went black.

The park floodlights buzzed to life, harsh and yellow. The cheerful, creepy carousel music bled back into the silence.

Around us, the crowd stood up, shuffling toward the exits. We didn't move.

"Is" My voice trembled. "Is Brody behind us?"

I couldn't look at him. I could feel his gaze on me. Heavy. Hot. Unwavering.

Remington chuckled. A low, rough sound. "No. He's not."

My heart missed a beat. "Then you"

"If he's not here, am I not allowed to kiss you?"

Remington went to get ice cream. I sat on a nearby bench, vibrating with anxiety.

I was drowning.

I had zero experience. None. My "dating life" was a wasteland. The closest Id ever been to a guy was when Brody sat next to me during Calculus tutoring and our knees accidentally brushed under the table.

Tonight? Tonight was way off the syllabus.

15

I was staring at my phone, thumbs hovering over a Reddit draft: Help. My fake boyfriend just kissed me for real. What is the protocol?

A shadow eclipsed the screen.

"Are you two actually together?"

Brody. His voice was a low rumble. The precursor to a storm.

"None of your business."

"It is my business. Your parents know you're here. That makes you my liability."

I didn't answer. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Keira, stop being such a brat. You can't just date anyone to prove a point. Be a good girl. Go home."

I looked him dead in the eye. My face was a mask. "I know I can't date just anyone. Remington isn't 'anyone'."

Brodys expression darkened. "But you"

I saw the flicker of indignation in his eyes.

"But I what?" I challenged.

"I loved you for seven years, and now I love someone else. Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

The air snapped. It was the first time Id ever stripped the truth naked in front of him.

Brody froze. His jaw worked, but no sound came out. His lips pressed into a thin, white line.

I stood up.

"What was the script in your head, Brody? Watch you make out with Lacey, cry in a corner, and crawl back to the train station like a loser?"

"No," he said stiffly.

He took a step closer. "Keira if you apply to grad school here I could consider giving us a shot."

A cold, sharp laugh escaped me.

He knew. He knew my career path was in the North. He was asking me to torch my future for a chance to be his girlfriend.

"And Lacey?" I asked. "Where does she fit in?"

Brody scoffed. Arrogant. Dismissive. "What do you think? If I actually wanted her, would I have waited until the day you showed up to make a move?"

He looked at me, expecting gratitude. Expecting me to swoon because he had finally 'chosen' me.

My hand moved before my brain caught up.

Crack.

The sound was crisp. It echoed in the empty plaza. Brody stumbled back, clutching his cheek. His eyes were wide with shock. "Keirayou"

Crack.

I hit him again. Backhand.

I raised my hand for round three. Suddenly, a blur of motion threw itself in front of him