Chapter 16
Wade
The time before students arrive is my favorite part of the day.
Hallways sit quiet except for the distant hum of copy machines and the occasional squeak of sneakers against freshly waxed floors. Classroom lights flicker on one by one while teachers shuffle around, carrying coffee cups and stacks of papers they were supposed to grade over the weekend but didn’t.
For about thirty glorious minutes, Autumn Ridge High belongs to the adults.
I walk through the front office, giving a small wave to Mrs. Albany as she aggressively bangs against a three-hole punch.
“Morning, Mrs. Albany.”
“Mr. Stevenson,” she says without glancing up. “Looks like you had an eventful weekend.”
You know word got out when it even reached the realms of Mrs. Albany.
I smile big. “Yes, I would say it was a great weekend.”
“People need hobbies,” she mutters, and I’m not exactly sure if that comment is directed toward the rumors about Ari and me or if it’s directed at Ari and me. I continue toward my office, pretending I’m unbothered.
I am bothered.
Just selectively bothered.
Because honestly, I’m less concerned about embarrassing viral videos and more concerned about the eighteen-year-old girl currently trying to seduce me into a prison sentence. So, to me, whatever scandal I caused this weekend will be well worth it.
I step into my office, flip on the lights, and wake up my computer.
The second my email loads, my good mood dies.
Subject: Professional Conduct Concerns
From: Jonathan Jex, School Superintendent
Fantastic.
I open the email while slowly lowering into my seat and begin reading.
Wade,
I love how Mr. Jex doesn’t even give me the respect of calling me Mr. Stevenson.
By now, I’ve become aware of several videos and rumors circulating regarding inappropriate public behavior between yourself and a faculty member during Friday evening’s football game.
As principal, maintaining professionalism with staff and students is imperative.
I would like to schedule a phone call later today to discuss expectations moving forward…
I stop reading there.
“Inappropriate public behavior?” I mutter. “That feels dramatic.”
Though, admittedly, Ari falling into my lap in front of the student section probably wasn’t ideal optics for a principal already fighting for credibility.
I lean back in my chair with a long sigh.
This is exactly the kind of thing my dad mentioned yesterday.
One weird moment.
One misstep in front of everyone.
Proof that Wade Stevenson is too immature to run a school.
Anxiety crawls up my spine before I can stop it.
I picture school board meetings, parents demanding professionalism, Jex using phrases like “poor judgment.” But worst of all, I picture my dad’s disappointment about how I failed his school, his faculty, and most importantly him.
That’s where the real anxiety lies.
Then another image bulldozes through all of it: Ashtyn Ellis hiding in my office last Friday afternoon. And suddenly, the football game feels like the least concerning thing happening in my life.
I can smooth this over with Jonathan Jex.
Honestly, if the town wants to obsess over Ari accidentally straddling me on aluminum bleachers instead of the actual student-boundary issue, I should probably count my blessings. Maybe their misplaced focus and this distraction is the best thing that could happen to me. I should lean into that.
I pull out my phone.
Wade
Lunch duty today. Cafeteria. Noon.
You should come sit with me in a very public and convincing way.
She answers almost immediately.
Ari
You realize helping me create moments in front of Ashtyn will make you lose our bet spectacularly, right?
I grin as I type.
Wade
I’m not worried about it.
Her response takes longer this time. Probably because she’s trying to think of something devastating to say.
Ari
You should be, based on how my mother treated you after church yesterday. This fake-dating competition is shaping up to be a slam dunk for me.
Barb Langford did snub me after church yesterday, but it was worth it, especially because every time Ari laughed in church, she leaned into me a little more without even realizing it.
It wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t for the fake-dating bet.
It was because she wanted to. That feels big.
But it also feels like something I shouldn’t like as much as I did.
Wade
Don’t get cocky. We’ve yet to see you in action, and honestly, my expectations for your fake-girlfriend performance are pretty low.
Ari
We’ll see.
Competitive Ari has officially entered the arena.
And I’m here for it.
There’s a light tap on my door. I look up from my phone to see Mrs. Baker standing in the doorway to my office. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” I put my phone down and stand, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Come in.”
“This is silly,” she says as she shuffles to the seat in front of my desk. “Especially since I’ve been teaching for so many years.”
“There’s nothing you could say that I would consider silly. I’m here to help.”
“That’s what I was hoping to get. A little help or advice.” Her lips lift a little. “I’ve just noticed how much the students love you, and it’s not because you’re young and cool. They really respect and revere you. I see how they let you into their lives. It’s incredible.”
For one split second, Mr. Jex and my dad and all the other people who believe I can’t do this job disappear, and I sit in the kind words Mrs. Baker just said about me. It’s probably one of the best professional compliments I’ve ever received.
Mrs. Baker sighs as she continues. “I’ve never been able to build a relationship with students the way you do. I was hoping you could give me some tips and tricks, places to start.”
“Thanks for saying all that.” I smile. “I’d love to help you and pass along any advice I have. For starters, students need to know you care, and the fact that you came to me shows me that you already do care.”
Mrs. Baker nods as I sit back into my chair, telling her all the things I do to try to make a difference in these teenagers’ lives.
Ari
FOURTH period is weirdly peaceful.
Twenty-four students sit bent over quizzes while the soft scratch of pencils fills the room.
Somebody keeps sniffing like they’re getting over a cold.
One kid in the back taps his shoe against the desk leg in a rhythm that’s slowly driving me insane, but overall, I’d consider this a win, compared to the full-court press about Wade that I’ve been getting at the beginning of every period all day long.
I don’t blame the kids for wanting answers, but the quiz is a nice reprieve from all the nosiness. I sit behind my desk with my phone hidden beside a stack of quizzes waiting to be graded.
Ari
Happy birthday, Reese! I hope you’re doing something fun today to celebrate. Wish we could be with you, but I guess we’ll see you this weekend.
Liv
Yeah, Reese, it’s too bad you’re not in Autumn Ridge with Ari and me. Or maybe I should say be grateful that you’re not here yet.
After years of living away, I can’t believe the three of us moved home at the same time.
Actually, I don’t know if I’d say Liv moved home.
More like a scary stalker forced her here.
And Reese has some messy family drama dragging her back to Autumn Ridge too.
We’re all kind of disasters at the moment, but at least we have each other.
Liv and Reese have been my best friends since we were kids. They say three’s a crowd, but not with us. We share everything with each other, which naturally means they already know about Wade, the football game, my mom’s pressures, and how that led to the fake-dating scheme.
I have years of experience proving I can trust them with my secrets.
Unlike the rest of the people in this town, they actually know how to keep one.
Reese
Sadly, I’m not doing anything fun for my birthday. Just finalizing everything for my big move back to Autumn Ridge later this week.
Liv
You should at least get a maple donut bar to celebrate turning twenty-seven.
Ari
Are you nervous you’re going to run into Dom once you get here? I’ve already seen him a few times at church. It’s inevitable in a small town like this.
Reese
I’m absolutely dreading it. Things will be so uncomfortable between us.
A smile pulls at my mouth. Only Reese Berkeley could describe her traumatic college dating experience as “uncomfortable,” as if she’s talking about something as ordinary as the weather.
My phone buzzes again.
Liv
Okay, but I want to know from Ari how bad school has been today after your little bleacher scandal?
I sigh.
Ari
Humiliating.
I mean, I can handle a lot from my parents, my peers, from this town, but from my students, it feels rough.
Reese
DETAILS.
Ari
First period, somebody asked if I’m going to every football game now “for principal/teacher bonding purposes.”
Liv
STOP.
Ari
Second period, a sophomore asked if Mr. Stevenson caught my butt on purpose because “his reflexes were kinda insane.”
Reese
Honestly, valid question.
Ari
Third period, one of the boys pretended to fall into another kid’s lap and yelled “relationship hard launch.”
Liv
Teenagers are next level.
“Eyes on your own paper,” I warn Duke when I catch him staring at his neighbor’s desk instead of his own quiz. He startles and whips his eyes back instantly.
My phone lights up again.
Reese
What about Ashtyn? She’s in your class, right?
Ari
That’s the weird part. She didn’t act jealous. She acted calm.
Reese
Yeah, a calm demeanor totally feels worse.
Ari
And get this. She walked into first period late, looked directly at me, then apologized for being tardy because she was “caught up talking to Mr. Stevenson.”
Liv
Oh, she’s playing games.
Ari
Then she asked if I was planning on attending more football games this season since “school spirit is clearly important to me.”
Reese
Yeah, okay, that’s terrifying. Like she’s testing boundaries just to see if you’ll stop her.
And that’s exactly why this whole thing feels more complicated than I originally thought.
Ashtyn doesn’t seem heartbroken. She seems competitive.
I know, because I’m competitive—the whole it-takes-one-to-know-one mentality.
I know from experience that competitive people don’t quit.
They strategize. So Wade’s right. I might have my work cut out for me with her.
Liv
So what’s next for the fake-dating bet?
Ari
Apparently, I’m eating lunch with Wade in the cafeteria today in front of the entire school.
Reese
Public cafeteria lunch is bold.
Ari
Tell me about it!
Liv
Don’t make it weird.
Reese
Yes. Important advice. You’re both teachers at the school. Act normal. Do just enough to sell it.
Liv
Exactly. No theatrics.
Reese
No more sitting in his lap.
I have to stifle my laugh so the students don’t know I’m texting during class. My eyes glance to the clock. Five minutes before the bell rings.
A few students are already finishing their quizzes and slumping in their chairs with the dramatic exhaustion only teenagers can achieve after fifteen multiple-choice questions.
Ari
I have to go collect quizzes before class is over.
Liv
Good luck on your lunch date.
Reese
When I get to Autumn Ridge later this week, we should all go out so I can hear all the updates.
I give a thumbs-up then lock my phone and slide it face down beside the papers, glancing at the clock again.
Lunch with Wade Stevenson in front of half the student body in five minutes feels a little daunting, but I’m going to take my friends’ advice.
No theatrics.
I’m going to do just enough to sell it in front of Ashtyn.
But even with my plan in place, I can’t deny my nerves.
I remind myself there’s nothing to be nervous about.
This is all fake.