Chapter 5 The Deal

The envelope sat on my kitchen table for three days.

I didn't open it again. I already knew what was inside. Cash. More cash than I had ever seen in one place. Enough to cover the rent. Enough to get my mom to a doctor. Enough to make me feel sick every time I looked at it.

My mom noticed it on the second day. She didn't ask where it came from. She just looked at me with tired eyes and said, "Be careful, baby."

I didn't know how to tell her that careful wasn't an option anymore.

---

The diner cut her hours on Wednesday.

She came home early again. Sat in the dark kitchen. Didn't turn on the lights. I found her there at nine o'clock, still in her uniform, staring at nothing.

"They said business was slow," she said. "But I think someone called. Made complaints."

My blood went cold.

"Who would call?"

"I don't know." She looked at me. "Maya. Is there something you're not telling me?"

I wanted to tell her everything. About Sabrina. About Liam. About the jersey and the video and the stairwell. About the envelope on the table.

"I've been having a hard time at school," I said. "Some girls. They're not nice."

Her face softened. "Bullies?"

"Yeah."

"They're everywhere, baby. You just gotta keep your head down."

Keep your head down. That's what I'd been doing my whole life. It hadn't worked yet.

---

I texted Liam that night.

We need to talk.

He replied in three seconds.

Tomorrow. Art room. After school.

No emojis. No punctuation. Just the facts.

I stared at my phone for a long time. Then I put it down and stared at the rabbit on my ceiling instead.

---

The art room smelled like clay and turpentine.

Noa had already left for the day. The sun was going down. The windows were orange and gold. Liam was already there when I walked in, sitting on a stool, spinning a pencil between his fingers.

He looked up when I came in. Didn't smile. Didn't speak.

I sat across from him. The stool was cold. My hands were cold. Everything was cold.

"My mom got her hours cut," I said.

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"Sabrina's been bragging about it. She called the diner herself. Posed as a customer."

I closed my eyes. Breathed.

"When does your dad need an answer about the girlfriend thing?"

"End of the week."

"And the money? The rent? The doctor?"

"The offer still stands."

I opened my eyes. Looked at him. Really looked. The scar on his chin. The dark circles under his eyes that matched mine. The way his shoulders were slumped like he was carrying something heavy.

"No feelings," I said.

"No feelings."

"No real dates."

"None."

"I'm not going to fall for you."

His mouth twitched. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"And when this is over. When the scholarship interview happens. We go back to being strangers."

"If that's what you want."

"It's what I need."

He nodded. Slow. Serious.

"Do you have any more questions?"

One.

"Why me?"

He was quiet for a long time. The sun went down another inch. The room got darker.

"Because you're the only real person in that whole school," he said finally. "Everyone else is pretending. You're not."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

I thought about my mom in the dark kitchen. About the rabbit on my ceiling. About the envelope on the table.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes to the deal. Yes to the fake dating. Yes to all of it."

He didn't smile. Didn't celebrate. Just nodded again.

"The game is on Friday. Wear the jersey. Sit in the front row. When we win, I'll come find you."

"And then what?"

"And then we start."

---

He left first. Walked out of the art room without looking back. His footsteps echoed down the hallway until they faded into nothing.

I stayed on the stool for a long time. The room got dark. The windows went black.

I had said yes.

There was no turning back now.