Chapter 9

The "ride" Jace spoke of lasts all of two minutes. He drove from my backyard, through his backyard, and into the trees that lined the property. I'd explored the area before and discovered the creek that runs parallel, but that's as far as I'd gotten.

I'd obviously missed the narrow road that leads to the creek because it's so hidden from the distance and barely wide enough for his van to drive through.

Jace didn't speak on the ride—not that I expected him to—and it wasn't until he'd pulled into another hidden turnoff and put the van in reverse that I finally took stock of my surroundings.

I was in the woods, at night, alone with a boy I barely knew.

My dad would be proud.

"I really need to start making better choices," I mumble, crossing my arms.

"What?" Jace huffs, glaring at me.

I shake my head, sigh out loud. "Nothing."

He makes quick work of reversing into a specific spot, though I'm not sure what's special about it. Through the windshield, illuminated by the headlights, are trees.

That's it.

Jace cuts off the engine, pulls out the keys from the ignition, and then he just… sits there, staring ahead. He doesn't even peek in my direction when he asks, "How was Jonah's?"

It's as close to a "how are you" as I've ever gotten, so I'll take it as a win. "It was good," I answer. "His little sister's adorable, and the rest of his family is really nice."

Jace nods, agreeing, but he's still yet to look at me. "So, are you guys, like, dating or…?"

"No," I'm quick to answer, and I don't know why he'd care either way. "Why?"

"I was just, uh…" His eyebrows dip as he works his jaw. "I was thinking about that bet thing…"

Oh. "It's okay." I look from him to the tree trunks ahead. "You don't have to answer. It was stupid of me to ask you."

"Would you have preferred to ask Jonah instead?"

"I don't know." My shoulders lift with my shrug. "I probably should've waited and asked someone who likes me. Or at the very least, someone who acknowledges my existence."

His eyes snap to mine, glaring of course. "I acknowledge you."

I laugh once. I can't help it. "You acknowledge me purely to let me know how much you hate me."

"I don't?—"

"You glare at me when I smile and look!" I lean forward and tug on his arm so he'll face me. I try to look him in the eyes, and no surprise, he looks away. "See! You can't even look at me."

"And you somehow concluded that I'm like that because I don't like you?"

"Then what is it?"

He exhales sharply, his entire chest deflating with the movement. Seconds pass without a word. Then he sighs, shaking his head, and says, "I can't fake fuck you."

No shit. "I figured."

"But I still want to do it," he rushes out. "I just…" Another long exhale. "I've never bragged about being with a girl before, so it wouldn't be believable if I suddenly started with you."

"Okay…"

"So, if we want people to buy it, then I think we need to fake date first." The boy's talking directly to the trees, not me, but I get what he's saying. More than that, I appreciate what he's saying. "We'd need to put on an act for a few weeks, at least. Maybe a month."

"Makes sense…" I murmur. "And what do you get in return?"

He fidgets in his seat, and swear, if frustration had a sound, it would be whatever noise just came out of him. "I need you to help me be more… social, I guess."

"Social?" I repeat. Fake-dating Jace will be a breeze. Helping him pull that stick out of his ass? That might be on the too-hard list, no matter how badly I want a car.

"‘Social' probably isn't the right word," he explains, rubbing the back of his neck. "My coach says colleges are interested in me, so that's not an issue. The problem is here, I'm basically a one-man team, and a few college recruiters told Coach that they're worried about how I'm going to acclimate to a full-on team environment, and Coach… he agrees. And you…" he trails off.

"What about me?"

"You've formulated three decent friendships in the space of two weeks, and that's more than I've done in the twelve years I've been in school." He pauses a breath, and I can tell how uncomfortable he is even having these thoughts, let alone having to speak them out loud. "I go to school with Jonah, play on the same team, and work with him three days a week, and he hasn't invited me to his house. At least not for…" he trails off, and I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. "And I know that I don't exactly give off the type of energy that screams let's be bros, but that's the problem, and that's what I need to change if I want to get into a decent school."

My mind's still catching up to what he's saying. "So…" I start, running through the facts in my head. "We fake date for a few weeks, and I get that money. 70/30?"

"You can have it all. I don't want the money."

Even better. "And in return, you want me to…"—I try to come up with the right word—"…guide you into becoming more of a team player by building friendships with your teammates?"

"Basically, yes."

I nod, and I know I'm missing a piece of the puzzle here, but I'm not worried about it, because in my mind, I'm still stuck at the holy shit, I'm getting a car stage. And, sure, I'll have to explain it to my dad, but he'll be fine with it once I give him the rundown.

I think.

Maybe.

I just have to hide all the axes first.

Besides, a few weeks isn't that long. How hard could it be to fake date a guy who can't stand you?

Jace clears his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. "And we should probably, you know…"

I don't know. "Probably what?"

He squirms in his seat. "Practice."

"Practice what?" Oh. "You want to practice fake fucking?"

"No!" His eyes whip to mine, then my legs, then the dash, then the roof of the cab, and with each second that passes, his cheeks get redder.

I bite back a giggle at his reaction. "Practice what then?"

"Dating," he states, shrugging. "Like, shouldn't we kiss or something? Isn't that what couples do? PDA?"

"Okay." I can kiss Jace Rivera. What's the big deal? I lean forward, my lips puckered, and close my eyes. A second later, we knock foreheads, groan, and on our second attempt, we knock teeth.

Awesome.