Chapter 4 The Morning After

MIA

I didn't sleep.

The contract sat on my phone like a bomb I'd already set off. I kept scrolling back to it, reading the same lines over and over.

"The Participant agrees to appear publicly as the Client's romantic partner for a period of six (6) months."

Six months.

One hundred and eighty days of holding hands with a boy who once made me feel like garbage for being poor.

My phone buzzed.

Caleb: Hope you slept well. Team breakfast at 9. I'll pick you up.

I stared at the message.

Mia: I have a car.

Caleb: Reporters know where you live now. We show up together.

Caleb: That's the deal.

He was right. I hated that he was right.

Mia: Fine. 8:45. Don't be late.

Caleb: I'm never late.

Mia: There's a first time for everything.

I put my phone down and looked at myself in the mirror.

Dark circles. Messy hair. The same tired eyes I'd had since Mom got sick.

This was my life now.

Pretending to love a boy I hated so I could afford to keep my mother alive.

Mom was already in the kitchen when I walked out.

She was sitting at the table with a cup of tea she hadn't touched. Her pink beanie sat crooked on her head. She looked smaller in the morning light.

"You're up early," she said.

"Team thing."

"Since when does the team manager go to breakfast?"

I poured myself a glass of water so I didn't have to look at her. "Since now."

"Mia."

I turned around.

Mom had that look. The one that said she knew I was lying but didn't have the energy to fight me on it.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Everything's fine."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I learned from the best."

She almost smiled. Almost.

"I saw you come home late last night. With a truck."

My stomach dropped.

"That was —"

"A boy?" Mom raised an eyebrow. "A boy with a very expensive truck?"

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

I couldn't tell her the truth. Hey Mom, I'm fake dating a hockey player so I can pay for your chemo. No. That would destroy her.

So I did the only thing I could.

I lied.

"It's a new friend," I said. "His name is Caleb. He's on the team."

"A friend."

"Yes."

"A friend who picks you up in a truck at night."

"Mom."

She held up her hands. "I'm not judging. I'm just saying — be careful."

"I'm always careful."

She looked at me for a long second. Then she nodded.

"Okay. Just bring him by sometime. I want to meet this friend."

My chest tightened.

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe sometime."

Caleb's truck pulled up at exactly 8:45.

I hated that he was on time.

He got out when he saw me walking down the steps. Opened the passenger door like some kind of gentleman.

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"My mom raised me right."

"Your mom never met me."

He smiled. It was different from the smirk. Softer. "Get in, Lin."

I got in.

The truck still smelled like him. Something clean and expensive. I didn't belong here.

"Did you eat?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"You said that yesterday. You ate three sandwiches."

"I was hungry yesterday."

"And today?"

I didn't answer.

He reached into the backseat and pulled out a paper bag. Dropped it in my lap.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast. Eat it before we get there. Can't have you passing out on camera."

I opened the bag. A breakfast sandwich. Still warm. Orange juice. A banana.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you being nice?"

He kept his eyes on the road. "Maybe I'm practicing."

"Practicing for what?"

"Being a good fake boyfriend."

I almost laughed. Almost.

"You're going to need more practice."

He glanced at me. That stupid blue eyes thing again.

"Then teach me."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I ate my sandwich and pretended my heart wasn't beating faster.

The team breakfast was at a diner near the rink.

Every player was there. Coaches. Some parents.

And every single one of them turned to look when we walked in together.

Chloe was sitting in the back corner. Her eyes went wide when she saw me next to Caleb. She mouthed "oh my god" so big I could read it from across the room.

I ignored her.

"Over here," Caleb said. He put his hand on my lower back again. Led me to a table near the window.

Everyone was watching.

I sat down. He sat next to me. Closer than he needed to.

"You're doing it again," I whispered.

"Doing what?"

"The hand thing."

He didn't move his hand. "Cameras."

I looked around. No cameras. Just the team.

"Caleb."

"Relax. You're stiff."

"I'm stiff because you're touching me."

"You'll get used to it."

"I really won't."

He finally pulled his hand away. But he was smiling. That soft smile again.

I hated how it looked on him.

Eli sat across from us. He was staring at me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve.

"So," he said. "Mia. You're really dating this idiot?"

"Apparently."

"For how long?"

"Six months," Caleb said before I could answer.

Eli's eyes flicked between us. He knew. He was the only one who knew.

"Six months," Eli repeated. "That's a long time to date someone you can't stand."

I froze.

Caleb's jaw tightened.

But Eli just smiled. "Relax. I'm joking." He stood up. "I'm getting coffee. You two lovebirds want anything?"

We both said no at the same time.

Eli laughed as he walked away.

The table was quiet.

"He's not going to tell anyone," Caleb said.

"I don't care if he does."

"You should. He's the only person who knows the truth."

I looked at him. "The truth?"

"Yeah. That this is fake."

I nodded.

But for some reason, the word fake felt heavier than it did yesterday.