Twenty-two
It wasn’t easy, and I knew it wouldn’t be. But it was worth it.
Stepping out of the janitor’s closet after my fake relationship with Elliot had been exposed, I knew nothing would be the same— I wasn’t the same. Elliot’s fingers interlaced with mine as we were thrust back into the spotlight and assaulted with question after question.
Are you guys actually dating?
We all know that you guys are faking. Why are you still pretending?
Why are you so obsessed with Prom Queen?
Did you really do all of Elliot’s work?
People we’d never even spoken to before were suddenly approaching us.
Gossip had a way of spreading like a plague, infecting every clique, jumping from one person to the next.
I had wanted everyone to know my name—guess I got my wish, just not in the way I had imagined.
With each accusation and question, my heart sank lower.
When I stammered, struggling to find the right words, Elliot had no trouble shutting them down and telling them to mind their own damn business.
His confidence was infectious, and after a while, I found the courage to do the same.
Do you even like him? Why do you care? Aren’t you guys tired of lying?
We aren’t lying. Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.
What’s going on between you two? Why are you so invested in our lives?
Shouldn’t you be focused on yours? Is this why you broke up with Ryan?
No, I broke up with Ryan because he thought it was okay to put his dick in another girl.
Why did you do Elliot’s assignments? Can you even do basic math?
I can solve for the eigenvalues of a 3x3 matrix… can you?
With every response, the person I had always been inside began to surface.
The thoughts I used to keep locked away, too afraid to say out loud, now spilled from my lips without hesitation.
No more overanalyzing, no more filtering my words to maintain the illusion of a picture-perfect, happy-go-lucky, high-maintenance, bubbly blonde.
I could finally be…me.
If they judged me, I judged them back. Probably not the best method to live by, but way better than cowering in humiliation like I’d done before.
This is high school. People are going to talk, no matter what—so let’s give them something to fucking talk about.
“I have an idea.” I smirked at Elliot.
He arched an eyebrow. “Should I be scared?”
“Maybe.”
I grinned mischievously, crossing my arms as I playfully bumped my hip against his.
A low groan escaped his lips, but I just laughed, tugging him down the hall, paying no mind to the dozens of eyes following us.
Our pace quickened as I shoved open the front door of the school, the wind smacking us in the face.
We jumped onto his motorcycle, which, surprisingly, wasn’t half as terrifying as it had been the first time, and sped down the road.
The sun poured down on us. It was unexpected, but for the first time in a while, I actually looked up.
Instead of fixating on the pavement, I let my gaze drift to the endless blue sky above.
Clouds stretched across it, some big and fluffy, others wispy and delicate.
At one point, I could’ve sworn I saw a smiley face.
Sunlight soaked into my skin, filling me with energy, like a solar panel recharging after a day in the shade.
Everything felt... peaceful . It was definitely a hell of a lot better than looking down at my damn shoes.
I rested my head against the back of Elliot’s shoulder as he weaved through traffic, the world blurring past us until we finally reached the Summerville Mall.
He yanked off his helmet and turned to me just as I pried mine off, my hair tumbling out in a wild mess.
“So, why are we here?”
“Shopping.”
“Well, no shit.”
“ Prom shopping.”
“Prom is a month and a half away.”
“We aren’t gonna wear these to Prom,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. “We’re using them to campaign for Prom.”
“Huh?”
Without another word, I pulled Elliot’s arm again, leading him toward the mall entrance. Its chipping paint and faded bricks offered a lackluster welcome, but my face still wore a smile as we walked inside.
With only one floor and a total of twelve stores, the Summerville Mall wasn’t exactly impressive, but it was better than nothing.
Light streamed through the skylights, illuminating the blossoming plants and whimsical paintings that decorated the space.
A newly installed fountain sat at the center, adding a little more personality as I watched several kids throw handfuls of coins into the water, landing with a thunk .
As Elliot and I wandered from store to store, a small boutique caught my eye.
The mannequins, frozen in exaggerated poses, wore stunning ball gowns that drew me in, pulling me toward the store like a magnet.
Without hesitation, I grabbed a basket and filled it with a crapload of dresses before slipping into one of the available fitting rooms. One by one, I tried them on—each outfit more disappointing than the last. New flash : Just because something looked good on a mannequin doesn’t mean it would look good on an actual person.
If you know, you know . Some dresses were too revealing, others too casual, and one made me look like I was ready for a corporate interview.
Then, finally, on my seventh dress, I gazed at my reflection, a smile spreading across my face.
This was the one . Stepping out of the fitting room, I turned to Elliot.
He glanced up from his phone, did a double-take, and his jaw practically hit the floor.
“Wow,” he whispered. “You look… wow .”
“Thanks,” I blushed, prying my eyes away from his as I looked down at my figure. Pulling my lip between my teeth, I asked, “So, I should get it, then?”
“In every color,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing a soft kiss on my forehead.
“So, it was a good idea to come here?”
“Best. Plan. Ever.”
“ Eh . I think our fake dating plan was pretty solid until everyone found out.”
“Jesus.” He sighed, his eyes sparkling as they connected with mine. “How the hell did we think we could fake a relationship and not fall for each other?”
I shrugged. “We thought we hated each other.”
“Yeah, well, love and hate are closely related.”
Love .
There it was again—that word. He hadn’t said it outright, but it was clear what he meant. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. Neither was I. But I did love him. And when the time was right, I’d have to find the courage to tell him.
“Now, we just have to get you a suit.” I smirked, pulling away from him as I headed back into the dressing room.
A Princess .
That’s exactly how I felt as Elliot and I stepped into school on Monday.
My rose-colored gown trailed gracefully behind me, the fitted bodice hugging my waist before cascading into a voluminous, shimmering skirt.
The sparkly tulle caught the light from every angle, making the dress glisten as I walked down the hallway.
My loose curls bounced just below my shoulders, framing my face as I walked arm-in-arm with Elliot.
I could feel the weight of every gaze, each pair of eyes locking onto us. A creeping sense of fear tightened my chest. The rhythmic clinking of my heels against the tile grew unbearably loud, my own breathing suddenly too noticeable.
Then, Elliot’s hand squeezed mine.
I looked up, meeting the steady reassurance of his deep blue eyes.
I felt grounded instantly. He gave me a playful wink before turning his gaze forward again.
Biting my lip, I couldn’t help but admire him—his perfectly tailored suit, the jacket sleeves cuffed just enough to reveal a hint of his tattoos.
His strides were smooth, his slacks fitting like they had been made just for him.
But the best part? His tie—a soft cherry blossom pink that matched my dress.
I may have felt like a Princess, but he looked like a Prince.
I dug inside my bag, pulled out a stack of papers, and handed half to Elliot.
Together, we walked through the school, taping them to the walls one by one until none were left.
By the time we reached my locker, forty-five sheets decorated the hallway. Soft snicking pulled me from my unfolding fairytale, and from the corner of my eye, I caught Meredith, Mason, and Ryan huddled in the corner, whispering to each other. I scowled as I yanked on the handle of my locker door.
“You okay?” Elliot asked, resting his shoulder against the wall beside me.
“Yeah.” I frowned. “It just still gets to me, ya know? The stares and the whispers.”
“I thought you were used to it.”
“Not this. It’s different now.”
“ Fuck ,” he groaned.
“Wha—” I started to ask before the sound of Ryan’s voice cut me off.
“You know, we all know, right?”
I spun around to find the three people I least wanted to see staring back at me, judgment heavy in their eyes.
At the front of the group stood Ryan, a smug grin stretching across his face.
His gaze flicked from me to Elliot, then back again.
Amusement danced in his eyes. Folding my arms over my chest, I raised an eyebrow, meeting his stare all while refusing to avert my gaze like I had done so many times before.
“Know what?” I asked, feigning stupidity.
“That your relationship is fake. You should stop trying so hard. It’s embarrassing.”
Elliot growled as he took a step forward, but before he could speak, I pressed my hand against his chest. I matched Ryan’s expression, staring at him with a sickly-sweet smile playing on my lips.
“My relationship with Elliot is more real than the one I had with you.” I scoffed. “And if you wanna talk about embarrassing, then let’s talk about how I rejected your ass multiple times and you still came crawling like the desperate little boy you are.”
“You think I still want you? Sweetheart, you’re yesterday’s leftovers.”
Elliot cut in with a smirk. “Then, what does that make you? I heard all about you cheating on Clarke. Sounds like you’re the one who’s rotten, dude.”
“Wasn’t talking to you, freak.”
“And yet, I responded anyway.”
Ryan flared his nostrils, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. Mason reached out, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to pull him back, but Ryan yanked away, shaking off his grip.
Mason latched onto his arm, tugging him back again. “He’s not worth it, man. Neither of them are.”
“Back off,” Ryan snarled, shoving his hand away. He loomed closer to Elliot, locking eyes with him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Always, in Ryan’s shadow.” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Do as I say and not as I do. Isn’t that right, Mason?”
Meredith shot me a sharp look. “You’d know that better than anyone, huh?”
“Maybe that’s why I left.”
“No, that’s why you should come back. Hanging out with these… people …can’t you see what it’s doing to your reputation?” she pleaded. “You wanna win Prom Queen? I can help you. These…costumes…aren’t it.”
“And why would I ever trust you again?”
“You can’t trust him , Clarke! Why do you think I took that page from your diary? Open your eyes! Everyone knows what a joke he is. He’s the one you shouldn’t trust. Stop fooling yourself—you don’t belong with them.”
It was her .
Meredith was the one who ripped open my diary and revealed my secrets for the entire school to see. How much had she read? It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the fact that she betrayed me. Again.
“It was you?” I whispered. “You did this?”
“You left your bag open in the locker room. I saw that journal you always carry around and wondered what was inside.”
A familiar sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Elliot and Ryan were still locked in a silent standoff, while Mason glowered at us in silence. And Meredith…well, she was running her mouth without a care, just like every other damn day.
My lip twitched. “Meredith,” I muttered flatly, my voice devoid of emotion as I stared right through her. “I’m sorry…I don’t know how it took me so long to realize…”
“It’s oka—”
“That you’re the fakest person in the room.”
Her face fell, the smirk falling off her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but it wasn’t her voice that I heard next.
We all jumped apart as Mrs. Hawthorne rounded the corner. “Ms. Taylor, Mr. Keller—in my classroom. Now,” she said pointedly.
I fantasized about wiping the smug grin off Meredith’s face as she shifted her weight to one side, folding her arms across her chest. My jaw tightened, and I shot a glare at the three of them. Ryan arched a brow and took a subtle step back, distancing himself from Elliot.
Grinding my teeth, I pivoted on my heels.
Elliot trailed closely behind me as we fell into step, following Mrs. Hawthorne’s lead.
We walked in tense silence until we reached her classroom.
She held the door open, then clicked it shut behind us.
Elliot’s shoulders slumped, his eyes laced with worry as he stared blankly ahead.
Without thinking, I slipped my hand into his, gripping it tightly as we both stared forward, bracing for whatever came next.
Mrs. Hawthorne scanned us as she adjusted the frame of her glasses, her eyes peeking over the rim.
It was the outfits . She was totally staring at our outfits.
“I’ve seen the notes on the walls about you two. How you helped him cheat in class.” She nodded as her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s a good thing after twenty-two years of teaching, I learned not to listen to every bit of gossip that spreads through these halls.”
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as Elliot’s fingers coiled around mine.
“You…you don’t believe what everyone’s saying?”
“No matter how much you two make me want to pull my hair out.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of her desk. “With the way you both look at each other, you can’t fake that. And Mr. Keller, your test scores speak for themselves. She can’t help you cheat on those…trust me, I would’ve noticed.”
“So, wait…” I paused. “Then, why are we here?”
“Because the teachers elected me to be the one to punish you.”
“Punish?” Elliot questioned, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t—I need to graduate. I thought you said—”
“I said I don’t listen to gossip; I never said the rest of the teachers didn’t.”
“So, what’s gonna happen to us?” I asked, tugging at the ends of my hair.
“You will both take a mock exam to prove your academic standing wasn’t forged through cheating,” she explained simply. Her thin lips curled upward. “And I signed you both up to volunteer at the local Summerville Library every Friday until the end of the school year.”
No, going to Ryan’s party, then. Bummer.