Chapter 10 #3
Jadea shoots me a look, not appreciating my cynicism.
“This is the perfect place. One, it reminds people who you are and that we’re in season.
Two, it tells people that Daniel came to visit you, and he cares about your success.
Three, it’s not too obviously romantic or staged.
We’ll take a picture under the sign announcing our game Sunday.
” There’s a tall electric sign looming above us, flashing our scarlet colors and advertising our next game.
It is pretty amazing to see our team’s name in lights, I have to admit.
Daniel’s nodding like this is all perfectly normal. “What will the caption say? How long have we been dating? We can’t have just started dating now, people would be suspicious.”
Jadea falls silent at his good point.
“We could have met at Stanford,” I offer tentatively. “It would make sense that you would know Jadea and me.” I shift a bit from foot to foot. “People at school saw us together.”
Daniel is giving me a searing, pained look as if he knew this was the future I imagined for us. I look away. Jadea crinkles up her face. “No, a mysterious relationship of five years is too difficult to explain.” It does sound pretty unrealistic; I have to admit. Maybe that’s why it never happened.
Daniel rubs his chin. “Maybe we met at Stanford, but reconnected recently? Maybe six months ago? We could be celebrating our anniversary, and that’s why we’re posting now. It’s a reasonable time frame to keep it to ourselves.”
“Good.” Jadea nods her approval. “We could say we all met again at the ESPYs. That was a little over six months ago. You were presenting, and Annie was my date. You could have reconnected then.” I want to laugh and admit that when Daniel walked past our group at the ESPYs, I casually sprinted to the bathroom to avoid him. Instead, I just nod.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “How should we do this?”
Jadea immediately whips out her phone and works on the scale, making sure Daniel and I are visible with the glittering sign in the background.
She insists he take his hat off, and I resist the urge to help him fix his curls.
I adjust the sundress I’m wearing, decorated with a print of tiny multicolored daisies.
My red hair tumbles in fresh curls down my back.
The day is clear and bright above us, the sky a beautiful blue.
It would be such a strange reality if this were true.
If Daniel and I had reconnected and were celebrating our love.
Instead, I feel unsure and awkward at his side.
Jadea is a few paces from us, phone in hand. She flaps her free hand at us. “Well, don’t just stand there! Pose!”
I try to put an arm around Daniel, but it feels stiff. He gives me an incredulous look. “We can do better than that! I’ll pick you up.”
“Pick me up?” I nearly laugh. “We’re both too big for that. I am six feet tall. And so are you.”
“Are you questioning my masculine strength? I’m wounded.” He lays a hand on his chest, eyes sparkling.
I scoff. “If anyone is picking anyone up, it will be me. I’m the professional athlete.”
He laughs then, bright and shining. I can’t look away. “That would be amazing.”
I’m stunned into silence. “Really?” I can’t imagine most men would enjoy their girlfriend, fake, ex, or otherwise, picking them up. However, Daniel seems genuinely delighted.
“Now, don’t back down so quickly, Annie. Do you doubt your feminine ferocity?” I start giggling then, too, at the alliteration, and he spreads his arms as though ready to be cradled.
I crack my knuckles, warming up to this picture more and more. “Let’s do it.”
I may have spoken a little too quickly, because while I am a badass professional athlete who lifts weights and works out several hours a day, I don’t usually lift a six-foot-tall man.
I almost lift him too quickly, arms under his knees and back.
I stumble back a step at the momentum. He quickly wraps his arms around my neck, his warmth suffusing through my chest. I adjust and then we’re standing still, my arms straining, but holding him securely enough.
Daniel’s delight continues. “I want you to carry me around everywhere. You’ll never get away from me now that you offer this kind of service.”
I’m giggling still, looking down at Daniel’s grinning face.
All that love and joy he brought to my life senior year; it’s still protected in a glass bubble in my chest. I know it’s there in my memories, but I never let those feelings out.
Every moment we’re together, the glass bubble cracks. Those feelings flood my veins.
“Guys!” Jadea is calling to us. “I think we got it.”
The moment shatters, and I hurriedly put Daniel down. This is just business. He’s helping me out because he feels guilty. That’s all. We don’t love each other anymore.
Daniel, Jadea, and I find a table at the stadium’s outdoor bar.
Over drinks and some greasy bar food, we decide on the picture.
The sign looks great, bright and enthusiastic, but Daniel and I look even better.
I can’t stop staring at it. My arms under his knees and wrapped around his shoulders.
My face angled down a little bit and laughing at Daniel.
He’s staring, expression content and soft. We look like a couple.
We create a shared post on Instagram with the simple caption, “Six months,” and a heart emoji.
As soon as the post goes live, I begin to sweat.
This is no longer a theoretical scheme cooked up by Jadea, but an act I will have to keep up for at least the next two weeks.
After that, Daniel and I will have to decide when to reveal our subsequent “break-up”.
Daniel gets a call when we’re planning and steps away.
It’s Friday, and we have a day game on Sunday.
Daniel will film the game and then fly to New York to film his late-night show that evening.
I know most of the package is pre-made and researched weeks in advance, but he still has to prep for his monologue and other live elements of the show.
I wonder more and more how he transitioned from track star to YouTuber to host of an Emmy-award winning show.
And in between all that, he abandoned his girlfriend.
Was that a necessary part of the process?
Daniel returns to the table. “I’m sorry, but I need to go meet with my writers on Zoom. The meeting starts at one, which I now realize is in twenty minutes.”
He’s about to exchange goodbyes when Jadea interrupts. “Wait! What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Are you asking me out, too?” he says dryly. I smother a snicker, and Jadea shoots us a reprimanding glare.
“You just posted a six-month anniversary post, but it was really only one cute picture. It would make sense that you’d go on a date, too. A grand one to celebrate your anniversary. You can post about it on social media.”
“A date?” I squeak out nervously. When we were in college, our dates usually involved pizza and watching bad movies. Or sports, obviously. An actual, real-world date sounds seriously intimidating.
“I have some really great ideas.” Daniel smiles. “I’ll plan it and pick you up tomorrow?”
He says it too casually, like he already has a dream scenario in his head. I narrow my eyes at him. “No, I’ll plan it.” I don’t want him to have all the control. Fake dating an ex is already anxiety-inducing enough without adding the surprise element.
Jadea rubs her hands together in anticipation. “Why don’t you both plan half of the date and surprise each other? Make it big so it looks good on your socials.”
I nod slowly. “Sure.”
Daniel reaches out his hand, shaking mine. I’m shocked at the frisson of electricity that goes through my body. Our eyes lock. “Game on, Annie.” Before I can say a word, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. Face on fire, Jadea and I wave as he quickly heads to his taxi.
Jadea gives me side eye. “Are you sure you don’t want to date him for real?”
I groan into my hands in response.
What a beautiful mess I’ve created.
*
I’m lying in bed later that night, racking my brain for great date ideas. A small part of me wants to torture Daniel and take him paintballing or laser-tagging with pre-teens, but I figure Jadea wants something more romantic for our so-called anniversary.
Tired and restless, I open the anniversary post on my phone.
It already has over three thousand likes on my page, more than any of my other posts.
When I flip to Daniel’s page, I see that he has over 150,000 likes, which makes sense considering our follower ratio.
I’m tempted to click on the comment section, but I want to bask in the purity of the picture and not have it potentially ruined.
I scroll through my Instagram and click on Jadea’s most recent story.
I’m surprised to see it’s a video of Daniel and me.
We’re standing in front of the sign, bickering about the pose.
You can hear Daniel’s delight at me picking him up and my overt giggling at his reaction.
You watch us stumble and then steady ourselves, laughing even more.
Jadea put a caption on it: Thanks @ESPYs for reuniting these Stanford lovebirds. Happy 6 months!
It’s almost too convincing. My heart feels like it might beat out of my rib cage. Why am I holding on to this fantasy? Daniel left and didn’t look back. I should do the same.
For the second time this week, I throw my phone onto my nightstand and try to quiet my mind.
*
The next morning, my phone buzzes endlessly. I finally have to turn off the vibrate feature and go fully mute. There are comments on our Instagram post that make my heart sing when I eventually give in and look at the notifications.
@CandaceParker: You two are a thing? Shut up [fire emoji] [heart emoji].