5 unexpected quests
By the time the sun starts going down, I've decided two things.
First, the internet is a mistake.
Second, if I see one more slow-motion edit of that kiss, I'm throwing my phone into the street and letting a car make the decision for me.
"I still think you should've liked at least one of them," Jess says, leaning back on her hands like she doesn't have a single responsibility in the world. "Just to confuse people."
"I'm not encouraging this," I reply, digging my spoon into the slightly melted ice cream in my cup. "I'm barely surviving it."
We're sitting on the curb between our houses, the pavement still warm from the Arizona heat, the kind that sticks around even after the sun starts to drop.
It's quiet in that familiar way—cars passing every so often, someone's dog barking down the street, the faint hum of a normal evening trying to exist around the chaos of my life.
Riley sits cross-legged on the grass beside us, scrolling through her phone with way too much focus for someone who claims she's "just observing."
"You're not surviving," she says without looking up. "You're thriving. There's a difference."
"I'm not thriving," I say flatly.
Jess gestures at me with her spoon. "You went viral overnight."
"That's not thriving. That's losing control."
Riley huffs out a quiet laugh. "Control is overrated."
"That sounds like something you say when you've already caused the problem."
She glances up, unbothered. "Or when I know exactly how to fix it."
Jess turns toward her immediately. "That sounded important."
"It wasn't," Riley says, which automatically means it was.
I narrow my eyes slightly. "What did you do?"
"Nothing yet."
"Riley."
She finally looks up, lips curving just enough to be suspicious. "I just think it's interesting that both of you are dealing with the same situation from completely different sides."
"I'm not dealing with anything," I say. "I'm ignoring it."
"Right," Jess says. "Very successfully."
I point my spoon at her. "You're not helping."
She grins. "I'm helping emotionally."
"That's not a thing."
"It should be."
Riley's phone buzzes in her hand, cutting through the conversation. She glances down at it, expression shifting slightly—not surprised, not concerned, just... expectant.
That's never a good sign.
Jess notices it too. "Why do you look like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you just remembered something you forgot to tell us."
Riley tilts her head. "I didn't forget."
I set my ice cream down on the curb. "Riley."
She sighs, like we're the ones making this difficult. "Okay, technically I might've mentioned something earlier."
"Mentioned what?" I ask slowly.
"That he was asking about you."
There's a brief pause where my brain decides it's not going to process that properly.
"...who?" Jess asks, even though she definitely knows.
Riley looks at me. "Caiden."
Jess makes a noise that can't even be classified as a word. "Oh, this just got interesting."
"It's not interesting," I say, even though something in my chest shifts in a way I don't fully appreciate. "It's unnecessary."
"He's trying to figure out who you are," Riley continues, completely ignoring me. "Coach told him to handle it."
"That sounds like a him problem."
"It is," she agrees. "Which is why I fixed it."
I blink. "You what?"
She holds up her phone slightly. "I texted Declan."
Jess's eyes widen. "You didn't."
"I did."
"What did you say?" I ask.
Riley shrugs, like this is casual. "That if they wanted to talk to you, they should come here."
Silence.
Actual silence.
I stare at her. "You told them to come here."
"Yes."
"To my house."
"Well, technically the curb between your house and Jess's," she corrects. "I was being specific."
Jess grabs my arm. "This is the best thing that has ever happened to us."
"This is not happening," I say, pushing myself to my feet like that somehow cancels the situation.
Riley glances at her phone again. "It is."
I cross my arms. "When?"
She looks up at me. "Now."
The sound of a car pulling up at the end of the street feels louder than it should.
Jess turns so fast she almost drops her ice cream. "Oh my God, oh my God, that's them, that has to be them."
"It could be anyone," I say, even though my voice doesn't fully commit to that.
A second later, a car turns onto our street.
Not just any car.
A very recognizable one.
Jess grabs my arm again, fully gripping it this time. "That is not anyone."
Riley doesn't move. Of course she doesn't.
The car slows as it gets closer, music faintly audible through the open windows before it cuts off completely. It pulls up a few feet away from us, parking slightly crooked like whoever's driving didn't care enough to fix it.
The driver's door opens first. Declan steps out, already looking amused.
"That tracks," Jess whispers.
The passenger door opens next. And then—
Caiden.
He steps out like he belongs there, like this is just another normal stop in his day, even though nothing about this is normal.
For a second, neither of us says anything.
Then he looks at me. Not surprised, not confused, just... focused.
"You couldn't just watch the game like a normal person?" he says.
I don't sit back down.
"I could ask you the same thing," I reply. "Staying out of the penalty box isn't that hard."
Declan snorts behind him. "I'm already invested."
Jess leans closer to me, whispering, "Please don't ruin this immediately."
"I'm not ruining anything," I mutter.
Caiden takes a few steps closer, stopping just far enough away that it doesn't feel like he's crowding me, but close enough that I'm very aware of it.
"You realize this is a problem, right?" he says.
I tilt my head slightly. "For who?"
"For both of us."
"That sounds dramatic."
"It's realistic."
I almost smile at that.
Almost.
"You showed up here," I point out. "Seems like you're the one making it a bigger deal."
"Because it is a bigger deal," he says, like that should be obvious. "People think there's something going on."
"There isn't."
"That's not what it looks like."
"That's not my fault."
"It kind of is," he replies.
Jess makes a quiet noise like she's enjoying this way too much.
I glance at her briefly. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"I am," she says. "Your side is just entertaining."
Riley finally stands, brushing her hands off like she's stepping into something she orchestrated on purpose.
"Okay," she says calmly. "We can keep arguing in circles, or we can fix it."
Caiden looks at her. "Fix it how?"
Declan answers before she can. "We lean into it."
There's a pause.
I blink. "Absolutely not."
"It makes sense," he continues, like I didn't just say that. "People already think you're together. If you pretend you are, it stops being a distraction and starts being a story."
Jess lights up immediately. "Oh my God, yes."
I turn to her. "No."
Riley crosses her arms. "He's not wrong."
"Don't encourage him."
"I'm encouraging a solution," she says.
I look back at Caiden.
He hasn't said anything.
Which somehow makes it worse.
"You're not actually considering this," I say.
He exhales slowly, like he doesn't love the idea but also doesn't hate it enough to shut it down.
"It would solve the problem," he says.
I let out a short laugh. "It creates a different one."
"Not really," he replies. "We control it. Public only. No assumptions."
"No feelings," I add automatically.
His gaze flickers slightly. "Obviously."
"I don't even like you."
"That's clear."
Jess is gripping my arm again. "Say yes."
"I'm not saying yes."
Riley raises an eyebrow. "You wanted control, didn't you?"
That lands.
Annoyingly.
I look back at him, weighing it in a way I didn't expect to have to. He watches me the same way, steady, waiting.
"This is fake," I say.
"Yeah."
"Completely."
"Obviously."
"No weird expectations."
"None."
I hesitate for a second. Then—
"Fine."
Jess actually gasps. "Oh my God."
Declan grins. "There it is."
Caiden nods once, like that settles it. "We'll keep it simple."
"Simple," I repeat. "Right."
There's a brief pause where none of us move.
Then I sigh. "We should probably exchange numbers."
"Probably," he agrees.
"Unfortunately."
"Definitely."
Jess leans toward Riley. "This is going to end well."
Riley smiles slightly. "It's definitely going to end."
I glance between all of them, then back at him.
This is a terrible idea. Which, at this point, feels like a theme. Still—
I pick up my ice cream again, like that somehow makes this normal.
"Try not to ruin my life," I say.
He looks at me for a second. "No promises."
Yeah.
That sounds about right.