Ten
Kendra stared at me, her jaw practically on the floor.
“So…Elliot?”
“Yep.”
“Elliot Keller?”
“That’s the one.”
“Girl! When the heck were you gonna tell me you had a crush on the emo bad boy?” Kendra nudged my arm, her eyes lighting up mid-sentence. “Wait, is he the guy who picked you up from Mason’s party?”
“Yeah.” I bit my lip while using my fork to mindlessly stir my spaghetti. “I just didn’t know how everyone would react. I mean he’s not exactly the star quarterback, ya know?”
“So! He’s fucking hot!” Kendra beamed with enthusiasm. “He’s got like a white-washed Zayn from One Direction thing going on.”
“I cannot believe you just said that,” I mumbled while shaking my head.
Kendra and I were sitting at our usual lunch table, surrounded by the rest of the cheer team, minus the traitor who-shall- not-be-named.
Thankfully, I hadn’t seen them all day. As I looked from one table to the next, the lines between each clique had become a jumbled mess of fucked up alphabet soup especially since Abercrombie and I had announced our fake relationship.
Clarke Taylor and Elliot Keller were dating?
Oh, what an unknowable universe . It was the only thing anyone could talk about, especially after the Homecoming dance last Friday.
I internally cackled at the stunned reaction when the two of us strolled down the hall, hand in hand.
There were even whisperings about our new ship name, ranging all the way from Ellarke to Clariot.
I even heard someone say Clot…which God no.
“Has Meredith talked to him?”
“Aside from Homecoming? Nope.”
“So, you guys are still fighting?”
“Hard to get over the fact that she ditched me for a stupid fucking boy.” And stole the spotlight at Homecoming by proclaiming she was running for Prom Queen.
“Meredith’s just…boy motivated.”
“More like horny.”
“You guys have been friends for years. You have to work this out.”
“I don’t have to do anything. If Meredith wants to fix this, she’ll just have to try harder.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ugh,” she groaned, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You know I’m terrible at choosing sides.”
“Well, if Meredith just apologizes—”
Kendra’s expression fell as she gradually turned her head, as if tracking something in the distance. “Speak of the devil.”
“Hey girlies!”
Meredith shoved Kendra to the side and sat down next to me. I didn’t try to hide the scowl on my face when she clunked her tray onto the table.
I shot a quick glance at Kendra, noting how oddly quiet she had become, only to be met with a flat expression on her face.
The entire mood had shifted. Meredith sure knew how to kill a vibe.
“Where’s Mason?”
“Why?” She smirked. “Am I not enough?”
“I mean if you’re asking for an honest response…”
“Okay, ouch.”
“Well, what did you expect after the stunt you pulled, Mer?”
“I thought you’d be happy I was running for Prom Queen,” she groaned while making a fist with her hands, squeezing until her fingers turned white. “Or is this about Mason’s party?”
“Who says it can’t be both?”
“Oh my God. When are you going to get over this already?”
I cocked my head to the side, my lips parting slightly. “Don’t you have Mason’s ass to kiss or something?”
“Don’t you have Elliot’s reputation to pick up off the floor?”
“Didn’t he help you at Mason’s party when you were literally too drunk to even fucking stand?”
“All he did was schedule an Uber to pick me up and tell Camryn to keep an eye on me. Anyone could’ve done that.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, wait. You’re telling me Elliot made sure you got home safe, and you’re still questioning his reputation?”
“Could be an act.” She shrugged. “Did you know he also failed the twelfth grade last year?”
How could she be so shallow? I let out a slow breath. With every day that passed, I questioned how I was ever friends with her in the first place. None of it felt worth it anymore.
“How about you worry about Mason, and I’ll worry about Elliot.”
Her eyes became thin slits as she looked at me. I had clearly struck a nerve, but I didn’t care. She had no right to say anything about Elliot, especially after how she reacted when I tried to do the same with Mason.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Kendra sighed while taking a bite of her sandwich as she ate in silence. She pursed her lips into a thin line.
I clenched my jaw tightly as I stared at Meredith, who refused to break eye contact.
“You know what?” I stood from my seat as I clutched my tray. “I think I’m going to head back to class early today.”
“Whatever.”
“Can you believe all week, Meredith kept trying to tell me to be careful around you?”
Elliot threw his arms out dramatically, a mocking grin spreading across his face. “Well, hello there, Elliot. How was your day? Oh, it was great, thanks for asking. How about you, Clarke ?”
“I don’t do pleasantries, Abercrombie.”
“I can see that.”
I plopped down in the chair across from him as the two of us sat in the library for another study session.
Mrs. Hawthorne had given us a new assignment—a research essay on The Tell-Tale Heart .
Of course, the first words out of my mouth when I saw Elliot had nothing to do with the gothic short story, but hey, if he could bombard me with a million questions, most of which had nothing to do with school, then I could rant about my life.
Not anything too personal, but general thoughts that consumed my mind.
I wasn’t replacing Jessie, but maybe I could replace Meredith.
“Are you not mad that Meredith was trying to shit on you?”
“Okay, please don’t say it like that.” He chuckled. “And no, I’m not mad. She’s nobody to me, so why would I care?”
“Because she’s being a hypocrite! She got so angry with me when I tried to warn her about Mason, and now, she has the audacity to try and warn me about you.”
Elliot seemed amused. “So, wouldn’t that make you a hypocrite, too?”
“Okay, whose side are you on?”
“Look.” He laughed. “You can eat lunch with me and my friends if you want. Better?”
“Really?”
“What better way to get my friends to like you than to constantly harass them with your presence?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” I rolled my eyes.
“Alright.” He sighed, slapping his hands on his thighs. “Maybe instead of worrying about Meredith, we can focus on ‘us.’ ”
“Us?”
“We need some ground rules for this whole fake dating thing ‘cause I don’t know about you, but I haven’t exactly done this before.”
“Yeah.” I scratched my chin. “I guess you’re right.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Doesn’t seem like you’re the type of person to say that a lot. Can I get that on tape?”
“In your dreams.”
“Worth a shot,” he mumbled. “Anyways, I have an idea.”
He shuffled over to my purse and rummaged through its contents, pulling out random items and throwing each one to the side. My water bottle, my perfume, my Advil, my pencils; everything was scattered on the floor.
“Hey!” I stood up from my chair. “What are you doing?”
“This.” He pulled a copy of The Tell-Tale Heart out of my bag while flashing me his pearly whites.
I stared at him, waiting for an explanation as to why a book about feeling guilty after committing murder was relevant.
He seemed confused by my confusion. Looking down at his hands, he frowned. “Wait…not this.”
He rummaged through my purse again.
“Dude!”
“This!” He held up my journal.
“My journal? What, you wanna snoop through my innermost thoughts again?”
He shook his head while tapping the cover. “You’ve got a foolproof plan here. This is exactly the inspiration we need to create some dating rules.”
Elliot was right… again . But there was no way I would say that out loud after the smug reaction he had the first time.
Couldn’t have his head getting too big. The one thing I still didn’t understand was why he seemed so hellbent on making our fake relationship seem genuine.
Why did he care? I knew what was in it for me, but what was in it for him?
“Why are you even going along with this in the first place? Weren’t you the one who thought the whole fake dating thing was a stupid idea?”
“That was before I saw the bigger picture.”
“Which is?”
“That you need me.”
I scoffed. “Oh, get off your high horse, Prince Charming.”
“But…” He held up his forefinger. “I need you, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You need to escape your toxic friends and still win Prom Queen, and I need to get a ‘B’ in Mrs. Hawthorne’s class, so I can graduate.”
“ Okay , so you’re going to help me campaign, and I’m going to keep tutoring you?”
“No.” Elliot smirked. “I’m going to make you more likable to the normies, and you’re going to do my homework…all of it.”
“I’m perfectly likable already.” I crossed my arms. “And you really think I’m going to do your homework like some nerd?”
“I hold the key to the one group you can’t crack, and you hold the key to my high school diploma. Like it or not, we need each other.”
I frowned at his words. Even though it pained me to admit it, Elliot was right. God, I seem to be thinking that a lot lately. We needed to work together. Besides, this was my genius idea in the first place. I couldn’t expect him to go along with everything without wanting something in return.
“Fine.”
Elliot put my journal on the table. His lips curled into a smile. Flipping to an open page, he started writing.
I leaned closer to him, trying to peek over his shoulder. When I read what he wrote, I couldn’t help but laugh. Totally- not-real relationship rules . It only took about ten minutes of brainstorming until we finally had a fully compiled list.
Elliot stuck his tongue out while reading over everything we had written, humming in approval. My eyes scanned the page as I combed through each rule, triple-checking for any gaps or inconsistencies. Seemed pretty solid to me.
“Okay, so now that we have rules, we need to create a backstory,” I stated matter-of-factly. “How did we meet?”
“Easy. We just use the real story. We met in AP Lit.”
“Yeah, but why would I talk to you?”
“Because I sat next to you.”
I shook my head. “No offense, but I wouldn’t talk to you unless I was forced to.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t.” He rolled his eyes. “Your fragile ego wouldn’t let you.”
“I’m just being realistic, Elliot. There has to be a reason.”
“Fine. We were assigned to be project partners.”
“Good. Yeah, okay. That works,” I said while shaking my leg.
“Cool.”
“And when did you ask me out?”
Elliot’s eyes drifted toward the wall behind me.
I turned around to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing there.
Just a plain, ashen-colored wall. The muted tint made the room seem empty, with nothing else to show besides the overflowing abundance of books stacked to the ceiling.
We both sat in silence, trying to think of plausible scenarios while staring at nothing in particular.
“After Mason’s party,” Elliot suggested with a shrug. “You thanked me for driving you home with a kiss. Then, I asked you to Homecoming and you said yes.”
“That’s actually pretty good.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t picture you as the romantic type.”
“My mom likes rom-coms. It’s the only thing she ever watches, and we only have one TV so…”
“Oh.”
“Don’t need your pity, Princess.”
“No, that’s not—I wasn’t…I’m not trying to be an asshole, Elliot.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Look. I’m sorry. I just like to plan things out. I want this whole fake dating thing to work out, ya know? Gotta make it seem believable.”
“Why do you care so much? About your reputation and Prom.”
“What does it matter?”
“If you want us to be believable, we need to know each other. Like actually. Not just some lies that we make up. Tell me something real.”
It felt wrong to talk to someone who wasn’t Jessie, but if I really wanted this lie to seem real, maybe admitting the true thing about myself wouldn’t kill me. I sucked in a deep breath. Just think of it like you’re talking to a therapist.
“It matters because I used to be bullied.”
The pressure building in my chest was lifted as soon as the words left my mouth.
For the first time, my answer wasn’t the rehearsed spew of word vomit that consisted of my desire to be the most popular girl in school, but rather a half-truth.
Still, though, there was so much more behind my response than he would ever know.
“You were bullied?”
“At my old school. My only real friend was my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“I did. She died five years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “Don’t need your pity either, Abercrombie.”
Elliot pursed his lips. He scratched the back of his neck and let out a sigh. “My dad left us a few years ago. My sister’s been taking it pretty rough. Ever since then, my mom has been working two jobs just to keep the lights on.”
We sat in silence, neither of us knowing how to move forward.
I looked down at my lap, wondering how we had gone from writing essays about The Tell-Tale Heart to making rules about fake dating to talking about the intimate details of our home lives.
Maybe Elliot and I weren’t so different at all. We were both dealing with pain that was so different yet so similar. I slowly lifted my head until our eyes connected again. The room was eerily quiet.
Elliot broke the tension, speaking softly. “Can I do something without you punching me?”
I let out a small laugh. “Depends.”
“I’m willing to risk it. Stand up.”
“Okay.” I eyed his movements as he rose to his feet. I pushed my chair backward and did the same. “Are you going to explain why, or do you want me to—”
Elliot wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me in a tight hug.
I melted into his embrace. I didn’t think twice before I threw my arms over his shoulders and hugged him back.
He nuzzled his chin into the nape of my neck and stroked my hair.
I moaned at the sensation.
“Whoa. Don’t orgasm.”
“Shut up.” I laughed while shoving him away. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“We should finish working on our essays, anyway.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Actually, there’s one more thing we need to talk about first.”
“Okay.” I placed my hands on my hips. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Your plan to win Prom Queen…that stupid name’s gotta go.”
I raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And what genius name do you have in mind?”
“The Prom Queen Project.”
Damn…that was actually perfect.