A shy high school senior jock and a closed-off girl battling an immune disorder fake a relationship to win a social media contest.
Being shy isn't easy, especially when you're the new kid at school. Scotts Valley's football program is subpar compare...
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"Brody, stop!" Paige lunged for my arm again.
I dodged her and continued typing on my phone. "Nope."
Paige's doctor's appointment was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. I felt helpless hearing about the financial restrictions. This idea was perfect. Minimal effort, post a few pictures or videos, and she could have money to try the new medication.
"We don't—we can't!" She huffed, reaching for me, but I sidestepped her grabby hands. "This is crazy."
After I thanked her parents for dinner and said goodnight, neither of us had changed our minds. We took our impasse outside, standing near my truck in her driveway.
"We can, and we should." I continued to create my account. Username Brody+Paige, password WeRWinningThis. "Trust me, it'll be easier to agree with before I tell the rest of the lunch table. You know they'll help."
She covered her face in her hands and groaned. "No. Brody, no. No!"
"We're already pretending to be a couple." I checked over my phone for another phone theft attempt, but Paige was pressing her fingers into her eyes and cheeks. "Don't worry, we'll delete everything once it's over."
"Don't worry? Don't worry!" Paige's voice reached a new octave, high enough to make me wince. She took a slow breath and lowered her hands, sending me a murderous look in her eyes. Her thinking it'd change my mind or scare me was cute. "Brody, you're underestimating how little attention I want to draw to myself."
"Do you want to feel better?"
"Beyond the point." She waved her hands before grabbing my shirt and tugging on it. I was already standing next to her, close enough to see the desperation pleading in her eyes. "There has to be a better way."
"What?" I scoffed. "Fundraiser car wash from the team?"
She exhaled and closed her eyes. "No. I meant—I don't know."
"Wait until you invent a cure?" I regretted the words as soon as I said them, and she yanked hard on my shirt. "Sorry. I believe you could, if you wanted, you know, because if anyone would—"
"Stop talking," she said between clenched teeth. "Just stop talking and listen. Do I want to feel better? Of course, but I can't believe this is the way to go about it. Resorting to public exposure and mockery is the last thing I want."
"I'll gate keep for you." I shut off my phone, saving the draft of my profile. "Delete any negativity. Think about it this weekend, and I'll tell everyone at lunch on Monday."
"It's...no." She dropped my shirt and turned, hugging her elbows to her stomach. She bent her head, revealing the spots at the bottom of her ears. Her defeated whisper made my chest hurt. "It's too much."
"Too much money?" I totally agreed. Her medication, like all medication, should be free, but it wasn't, so desperate times called for desperate measures.
