His gaze traveled from the cupcake to my eyes, then back again. He was looking at me like I’d just handed him a million dollars instead of a half-squished cupcake.
“Thanks, Becca.” He then proceeded to shove the entire thing into his mouth in that way guys do. “This is really good,” he said, crumbs falling onto his shirt.
I got into the car, shrieked when my legs touched the burning hot leather seat, then silently reprimanded myself when Brett started laughing. We were driving through the streets, and I was racking my brain for something to say, when Brett asked, “Your mom bakes a lot?”
I’d thought we’d dive right into the so-what-the-hell-is-going-on-with-us conversation and skip the small talk, but guess not.
“Yeah. Every morning I wake up and my kitchen is covered in cupcakes, pancakes—pretty much any type of cake. She’s obsessed.”
He nodded. “That’s really cool. My mom never bakes. She’s more of the wine-and-cheese-tray type.”
I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that so I just nodded.
We reached a red light. Brett turned in his seat to face me. “As your boyfriend, do I get a cupcake every morning?” I must’ve looked surprised, because he said, “What?”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to . . . continue this.”
The light turned green.
“Do you?” he asked.
“I’m not completely against it.”
Brett laughed. It was contagious. It felt good to laugh with him, like some of the awkwardness had lifted.
“First you run away when I kiss you. Now you want to break up with me when we haven’t even been dating for a day. Way to break a guy’s heart, Hart.” He poked my leg. “See what I did there?”
I was beginning to understand why so many people wanted to be around him. Maybe the rumors were true: Brett really was just a nice guy. Was that why he’d helped me yesterday?
“So you want to go through with this?” I asked. “Pretend to be dating? Fool everyone at school?”
“If I get more cupcakes out of it, sure.” He winked at me. His eyes were clear in the sunlight. I wanted to ask what else he was getting out of this relationship. I mean, my mom’s cupcakes were good. But they weren’t that good to warrant this entire mess. But then we pulled into the school parking lot, and the butterflies in my stomach I momentarily forgot about were back. Trillions now.
I gulped. Opened the window. Closed the window. Breathe, lungs. Breathe.
“Um,” I said, completely stalling. “We should, like, figure out the rules to all of this.”
“Can we do that later? I don’t think you want to be late to first period.”
I glanced at the time. Class started in five minutes and I still had to stop at my locker. Just picturing Miss Copper’s glare had me hopping out of the car at full speed. Brett ran around to my side, grabbed my shoulder. I think he could see how panicked I felt.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
“Miss Copper scares me,” I said. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Right. That’s why you’re freaking out.”
I sighed. From the way Brett was standing and how close he was, the parking lot was entirely blocked from my view. If people were staring, I couldn’t see them. But I knew they could see me. See us. What would they say? What would they think? Would they even believe that Brett Wells would date me? I was completely overwhelmed. It took every ounce of determination to throw my backpack over my shoulders and take a step toward the door.
“I know you might be used to all this attention, Brett. But I’m not. This is new for me, and it’s terrifying. I just . . . need a minute.”
“That’s cool. We can wait. Miss C doesn’t scare me,” he added.
I breathed through my nose, then through my mouth. I counted to ten, closed my eyes, and focused on my feet planted on the ground. When I opened them, Brett was watching me. He didn’t look annoyed, though. He was just standing there, waiting, that hopeful look on his face.
“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“No,” I said, taking it anyway.
Then he was tugging me to the front door.
“I don’t really like the attention either,” he said while we walked, probably trying to distract me from the students. I stared directly in front of me, not letting my eyes wander. “That was the one reason I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with this. I don’t like people talking about my dating life. It’s none of their business.”
“Yeah,” I said, half paying attention. “That makes sense.”
He was chuckling, literally dragging me through the hall.
The first person I saw was Jenny, standing beside the office with her cheerleading squad. I quickly looked away, following the first rule in how-to-live-life-under-the-radar. Brett was oblivious, towing me behind him as he moved through the halls. A personal human shield. It took me a minute to stop staring at my feet and realize we were standing in front of my locker. I grabbed my books in record speed and made a dash for English class. At this point, Brett probably thought I was insane, which, for the record, may be partially true.
Class wasn’t as bad as I expected. We made it in time, so no glaring today. Brett tried to sit at the empty desk beside mine, but it turns out not even his charms were exempt from the horror of assigned seating. Brett lasted a whole two minutes before Miss Copper yelled for him to return to his seat. The class laughed, and it felt a little easier to breathe after that. Aside from Jenny turning to stare at me every once in a while, there were no disturbances. No one commented on yesterday’s conversation. No one grilled me about Brett. It was just another day in English class.
Talk about anticlimactic.
The first half of the day was smooth sailing, until lunch came around. I used to sit in the cafeteria with Jenny, just the two of us. We’d each buy something different to eat and share it. For sophomore and junior year, I ate with Cassie. After she graduated, I started eating outside alone. There were a few dozen picnic tables scattered across the yard. You had to get there pretty early to grab a good spot, which was why I opted to bring a lunch instead of waiting in the cafeteria line. There was one table hidden under a tree that was my favorite. I was planning on eating there today until Brett texted, saying he saved me a spot inside.
I mean, my expectations weren’t even that high. I figured he saved the two of us a table, probably in the corner so we could talk this all over without someone hearing. Instead, I walked into the cafeteria to find him sitting smack in the center. It was the jock table, lined with every member of the football team. The cheerleading squad sat at the next table over. Jenny et al.
I lasted all of one second before dashing toward the exit doors. I mean, come on! Did Brett really expect me to sit with his teammates, listen to them debate football game plays and talk about how we supposedly started dating in the summer? Maintaining the facade of our relationship was not worth that level of torture.
I took a seat at my usual table, pulled out my sandwich and book, and started to read. I wasn’t even through the first page when Brett texted.
Where are you? it read.
Outside, I typed back.
. . . Why?
I shut my phone off and returned to my book.
A minute later, a shadow loomed over me.