Chapter 27
tino
Lilah was barely conscious when we drove back to school the next morning. We had to get up ridiculously early to get back in time, so I practically had to drag her out of bed. Even then, the only way I got her moving was with the promise of buying her four coffees from Tim Horton’s on the drive.
The drive itself passed in a blur of dark roads and too-loud radio static, Lilah slumped in the passenger seat clutching her first coffee like it was life support.
By the time we pulled into the school parking lot, she was coherent enough to complain about existing.
She leaned her head against me as we walked inside, the building already buzzing with that specific kind of weekday chaos that made it feel like we’d never left at all.
Lockers slamming, people yelling across hallways, teachers herding everyone forward like cats.
It felt surreal, slipping back into routine after the weekend—after everything—but I didn’t have time to sit with that feeling.
Everything on campus seemed completely normal, with the frost covering the grass and leaves, students shuffling around half-asleep with steaming coffee cups in their hands, and teachers who looked way too perky for eight in the morning.
There was just one thing missing—anyone watching us.
I looked around as Lilah and I walked out of breakfast together, slipping easily back into our usual fake dating routine at school. Except that now, it didn’t feel fake at all. I waited for the stares that I’d learned to expect at school, but this morning, there was nothing.
No double takes. No whispers. No subtle “are-they-holding-hands” stares from freshmen.
It was strange how quickly I’d gotten used to it to the point of not being stared at feeling weird.
While we stood by her locker, I glanced at Lilah to see if she’d noticed, but her attention was elsewhere as she tried to jam her notebook into her bag, muttering something about her pen exploding, while her most recent coffee cup was balancing precariously from her free hand at the same time.
“Here,” I said, reaching to take her cup before she spilled it.
She blinked, startled. “What? Oh—thanks.”
“You’re going to ruin your notes by spilling this everywhere one of these days.”
She shrugged. “Eh. They’re basically illegible anyway. Can’t make them any worse.” She took a large gulp of her coffee and sighed. “It is way too cold out today. This is the only thing keeping me going.”
“You could’ve worn a real coat,” I said, looking over her outfit.
She was wearing her uniform, of course, but unlike most of the girls we walked past, she wasn’t wearing tights underneath the skirt.
On top, she had on the blouse and sweater, but instead of a coat, all she was wearing was a jean jacket.
It had been cold enough for our breath to steam up the air outside, yet she was dressed like it was only early autumn.
She gave me a sideways glare. “This is a real coat.”
“It’s denim.”
“Lined denim,” she corrected.
“Not the defense you think it is.”
She made a show of sipping her coffee. “You’re just jealous because I have more style than you. I’d be happy to give you tips if you need them.”
“No thanks. I saw the bedazzled shorts you forced Poppy into for gym class. I’m not sure I’m ready to pull those off yet.”
“Well, obviously—you’d look ridiculous in them,” she said, rolling her eyes. A smile toyed at her lips as she added, “I would get you a bedazzled headband instead.”
I snorted and bumped my shoulder into hers as we started down the hallway toward her classroom.
Usually, we couldn’t walk ten feet without someone nudging their friend or whispering.
Ever since the day that photo of us in the costume store was leaked, we hadn’t gone more than ten minutes without someone making a comment or at least looking in our direction, but now…
A group of freshmen brushed past us, laughing about something, and didn’t even glance our way. A few of Lilah’s classmates walked by and waved—friendly, normal, no lingering looks or knowing smiles.
For the first time since this all began, we were invisible.
Lilah looked at me, a frown twisting up her pretty face. “Okay, is it just me, or…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but I didn’t need her to. “Nope.”
We stopped a couple feet from her English classroom door, where I usually kissed her goodbye every morning.
Lilah looked around in confusion, clearly waiting for somebody to notice that we were standing here.
But nobody did. The hall buzzed with normal conversations—homework, parties, our upcoming hockey game—but nothing about Lilah and me.
Lilah’s eyes flicked toward a group of girls passing by—girls who had definitely squealed over our “relationship” just last week—and her lips parted as they walked by without so much as a glance in our direction.
She turned back to me. “Huh.”
“What?”
“They didn’t even—” she gestured vaguely, “—stare. Or whisper. Or anything.”
“Guess the novelty wore off.”
“Yeah.” She looked weirdly thrown off by that. “That was fast.”
“News cycle is brutal,” I said, trying to sound casual. “One week you’re campus royalty, the next week you’re just another couple arguing about coffee stains.”
She gave a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. For whatever reason, she seemed upset about this. Upset that the plan worked exactly as she’d wanted it to. Had she somehow forgotten the endgame of her own plan?
“Guess we did it,” I said.
“Did what?”
“What we set out to do. People stopped caring.”
She stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to process that. “Huh.”
“Wasn’t that the goal?” I asked.
“Yeah, I just—” she shrugged and fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup. “I guess I expected it to last longer.”
“Going to miss having your time in the spotlight?” I asked.
I already knew the answer would be a resounding no—Lilah had no interest in fame and had only done this as a means to an end—so I was surprised when she turned and looked at me like a wounded animal.
She didn’t say the words outright, but it was written all over her face.
For whatever reason, Lilah Turner didn’t want this to end. A small spark of hope flamed up in my chest.
“Let’s go for coffee,” I blurted out.
Lilah’s browns pinched as she glanced at the classroom then at me again. “What, now? I have a test and—”
“No, after school.” I shoved my hands in my pants pockets so I wouldn’t fidget nervously.
“We were supposed to have a date anyway, right? So let’s go for coffee and…
” My instinct was to say that we could talk about this but I wasn’t sure how she would take that.
I didn’t want her to think that this was supposed to be the end.
I stayed silent for too long, but Lilah let me off the hook.
“The carnival is tonight,” she said. “You know, the one you suggested we go to together? Meet me there and we’ll talk.”
The bell rang before I could respond, but I nodded. I had no idea what I was going to say to her at the carnival. No clue how I was going to broach the subject. All I knew for sure right now was that our fake relationship was coming to an end—but I wasn’t willing to give Lilah Turner up just yet.