Page 8 of Off The Rush
I stumbled upon the perfect solution. It’s risky, sure, but it just might work. And if it does, it would not only save my career but also give me a chance to finally move on from my toxic past.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I’ll help you with your audition issue, but only if you agree to pretend to be my girlfriend until the Spring show thing.”
“Your girlfriend?” she asks, confusion clouding her beautiful eyes. “Why would you want that?”
“Let’s just say I need a little help fixing my image,” I reply vaguely, not wanting to give away too much information just yet. “If you help me out, I’ll make sure your dean sees us together and believes we’re a couple.”
Emma hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons of my proposal.
“You won’t just help me because it’s your fault?” She asks.
I shrug. “Nope. I need your help in return.”
She looks like she’s about to walk away before, finally, with a sigh, she agrees. “Okay, fine. But we need some ground rules.”
“Deal,” I say, grinning as we shake on it. This is going to work out perfectly.
“You don’t want to know the ground rules?”
“We can come up with them together. Thank you, Emma!” I say sincerely, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I’m going to repair my reputation and keep my place on the team thanks to this girl.
“Let’s just hope this doesn’t come back to bite us,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me.
“Alright,” I said, rubbing my hands together as if to finalize the deal we had just made. “Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow evening? We can sit down and figure out all the rules for this little arrangement.”
“Tomorrow?” Emma asked, her eyes widening ever so slightly as if she didn’t expect me to suggest a date so soon. But time is of the essence, and I need to prove to Coach that I am making an effort to change.
Plus, I don’t hate the idea of spending more time with her.
“Is that okay with you?” I ask, not wanting to push her too far.
Emma hesitates for a moment, biting her lip as she seems to weigh her options. Eventually, she nods in agreement. “Yeah, tomorrow works. Just text me your address and I’ll be there.”
“Great,” I reply, relief washing over me. The sooner we get started on fixing my image, the better.
We exchange numbers and Emma immediately leaves.
“See you tomorrow,” I shout to her retreating back.
Now it’s time to make a full plan on how to do this.
Chapter 4
I stand in front of my mirror, taking a deep breath and trying to quell the nerves churning inside me. Today I’m meeting Alec and discussing the rules for our fake dating arrangement. I have never been in a situation like this before, and the idea of pretending to be with someone makes me uncomfortable. But if it means a spot in the Spring Showcase, I am willing to do whatever it takes.
“Alright, Emma,” I whisper to myself, staring at my reflection. “You can do this. Be stern, be cautious, and don’t let him talk you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”
With another deep breath, I head out the door and begin the short walk to Alec’s house. The sun is shining brightly overhead, making the campus appear even more picturesque than usual. I pass by the familiar row of athlete houses, each one boasting perfectly manicured lawns and impressive architecture. It always amazes me how well-funded the sports teams are at our university.
Finally, I arrive at Alec’s house, which is situated near the end of the row. It looks just like the others – large and imposing, with a sprawling lawn dotted with carefully pruned trees. I hesitate for a moment, but I can’t let my nerves get the best of me; I have a mission to accomplish, and I need to stay focused.
“Okay, Emma,” I murmur, squaring my shoulders and preparing myself for the task ahead. “It’s time to be brave.”
As I walk up to the front door, I think about the rules I want to set – no unexpected touching, no public displays of affection that go beyond hand-holding or a quick peck on the cheek, and absolutely no spending the night together. I can’t deny how cute Alec is but this arrangement is temporary, and I don’t want anything getting confused.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter under my breath as I knock on the door, hoping for the best.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for someone to answer the door. My stomach churns with anxiety, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe this whole fake dating thing is a terrible idea.
