Chapter 10

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Ava

What does one wear when going on a date with your fake boyfriend?

Question of the fucking century.

I trained nine thirty to two today, then worked for another four hours. I got off at six and tried to have a calm walk back to the apartment but walking didn't even seem to help my nerves.

As much as I know this is fake, it's still a date. A fake date, yes, but that doesn't help knowing I have to try and convince people it's real.

Before training, I went and bought a new pink dress. It's definitely my favourite. It's a pink two layered chiffon dress that hits mid thigh, spaghetti straps leading to an open back.

I throw it on quickly, deciding to keep the makeup light since it's ten to seven and promptly throw on some mascara with a swipe of rose lipstick. I even take my hair out of its regular ponytail and do a half swipe, securing it with a pink butterfly clip.

Having type 3a curly hair is a pain in my ass. My mother never bothered to teach me how to care for it properly like it should be and everyone I've tried to ask for help simply tells me to look it up online but I just can't learn anything through a screen. I need something hands-on-which sounds stupid but having ADHD makes it hard, even when I take my medication.

My parents forced me on it when I was still living with them and was on it for years before I finally stopped.

Medication makes me...not me. I get tired and confused and I hate that feeling of not being comfortable in my own skin so I'd rather space out and my mind work ten times faster than it should be rather than feeling high all the time.

I feel free without it.

Blinking, I grab my pink all-star Converses and exit my bedroom, grabbing my checkered tote bag on my way out.

Cameron's already waiting by the front door for me, leaning and scrolling on his phone. He looks...really good in his dark jeans and grey hoodie.

I smile. "I love your shoes." He's wearing pink Nikes. Pink!

He smiles right back, dimples making themself known but his body is tense. "I figured we could match."

I blush the same shade as his shoes. "So, ah, where are we going tonight?"

"It's a surprise." He wiggles his brows.

I swallow. "Is it-can we walk?"

He nods, ushering me through the front door and locking it behind him. "Yep. I made sure we could walk. It's about twenty minutes but I know you walk longer distances than that."

I blow a breath of relief. Eye him carefully. "Thank you. For making sure."

His head dips in a silent welcome.

We don't talk on the walk but it's not awkward like I expected it to be. He starts humming an unfamiliar tune halfway through but I don't have the guts to ask him what it is.

Cameron doesn't seem to mind the long walk, but he doesn't seem to be himself today.

There's no bounce in each step he takes and he seems stressed about something. Whether it's the date or not, I can't tell.

"I talked to Jennifer-our media and PR lady for the team-and she said this will really help me. So thank you. A lot." He says, emotion swarming in his voice.

I don't say anything, just give him a timid smile.

We walk for a few more minutes, Vancouver completely alive at this hour. People push past us, others waiting in line for the bus. Kids riding ahead of their parents on bikes, laughing.

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