by Emily Lowry
Abby: *salute emoji* I’ll be around.
There was no point waiting around my house for a blast from Click, so I went to Main Street early, hoping to casually bump into Chase and Jordyn. I was in the stationery store when my phone buzzed.
Click: You’ve received an anonymous message. Open? Y/N
A spike of adrenaline shot through me. So, this was it. The saboteur’s first move to end my fake relationship with Chase. What could they send that would make me instantly dump Chase?
I nervously swiped the message open.
It was a photo of Chase on Main Street. He was walking with Savannah, his hand around her shoulder. He was pulling her close to him, and her beautiful red hair was falling over his arm. Like a picture from a magazine — two perfect people, walking side by side, united by their beauty. The picture gave me a pang of jealousy immediately. Randomly, I noticed in the picture that there was a cloud in the sky that looked exactly like a duck. I wondered if I had focused on the cloud’s strange shape as a coping technique — anything not to think about Chase with her.
The photo was captioned:
He’s lying to you. Thought you should know.
Then, before I could examine the photo further, it vanished.
A lump formed in my throat. Chase and Savannah. I mean, he’d been interested in her the entire time — that’s why we were doing this, wasn’t it? Even if he was actually with her right now, I couldn’t be angry. That was the point of our arrangement.
Maybe I’d just read too much into his actions when he had held me to him on our date, when he’d pulled me close. He was just being a good friend. Just trying to give me the perfect fake boyfriend experience. Wasn’t he? It was what I’d asked for.
Think, Abby, think. Think about the photo. What did you really see?
Chase with Savannah. They were both wearing jackets, and they’d dated in the summer, so the picture was probably recent. While Chase was recognizable in the photo, technically I’d only seen the back of the girl’s head. It might not have been Savannah. But if not, who could it be? That gorgeous red hair was unmistakable.
Was there anything else in the photo that stuck out?
I texted Chase.
Abby: Someone sent me a photo. You and Savannah.
As I waited for a reply, I tilted my head back and looked at the sky.
There was a cloud shaped like a duck. A duck!
Just like in the photo.
Whoever was responsible had taken the picture TODAY.
I took off, running as fast as my stubby legs could carry me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. If I hurried, I could catch Madison, put her indisputably at the scene of the crime. Or I’d see Chase with Savannah and I’d know the photo was real. Or maybe I’d see something else entirely.
My lungs heaved.
My legs felt like they would give out.
I arrived at the top of Main Street after what seemed like an eternity. I collapsed on a bench outside Peak’s to catch my breath.
Once I could breathe again, I looked around, trying to find one of my suspects. The area was busy, but there was no sign of Chase, Savannah, or Madison.
I swore.
“Abby?”
I looked at the couple eating frozen yogurt on the bench across from me. It was Nicholas and Payton. They both had their tablets open, and they were comparing photos from last week’s football game. Evermore’s undefeated season was the sole focus of the Pinnacle right now.
Embarrassed as I was with Payton and Nicholas catching me red faced, sweaty and swearing, I realized that I didn’t care that Payton and Nicholas were here together. They looked good together, in fact. My crush on Nicholas was ancient history, that much was clear to me.
“Have you seen Madison Albright?” I asked between breaths.
Nicholas shook his head.
“I did,” Payton said. “A few minutes ago.”
“Where?!” I practically yelled. “What was she doing?”
“Uhh… she was just walking down Main, on her phone.”
Sweet vindication.
“Talking to someone?”
Payton shook her head. “I think she was taking a photo, maybe a selfie or something.”
Yes.
Yes, yes, yes.
“And Chase?” I asked, my breath slowly returning. “Have you seen Chase?”
“No, sorry, Abby.” Payton shook her head.
“Shouldn’t you… I mean aren’t you…?” Nicholas fumbled.
“Yes.” I cut through his mumbles with the answer to the question I knew he was asking.
I checked my phone.
Chase: From when?
30
Chase
Abby: Meet me at Peak’s.
My heart raced. If the saboteur had sent a photo of me and Savannah to Abby, what did they send to Savannah? The one I was supposedly kissing someone in… could it be photos of me and a different ex the saboteur was circulating? For the millionth time in my life, I cursed Click. The platform was designed to drive gossip and drama, and as the quarterback, I was the center of much of the unwanted attention.
“Verdict?” Jordyn stood beside me. Our parents were fighting again this morning, leaving both of us desperate to get out of the house.
“We need to meet Abby at Peak’s.”
Jordyn smiled. “Even in November, I won’t turn down frozen yogurt.”
She liked Abby. She said I was happy lately.
She was right.
We were at the other end of Main Street when Abby texted, so it took us a good ten minutes to get to Peak’s. When we arrived, Abby was sitting on one of the benches, her phone out. It looked like she was writing notes. I smiled to myself — she was always taking notes. She said it was the key to being a great journalist.
Her eyes flitted to me, then to my sister. “Jordyn.”
“What. Is. Up.” Jordyn gave her a fist bump.
“And what am I? Chopped liver?” I tried to joke, but the words sounded more bitter than I meant.
Abby ignored my question and addressed Jordyn directly. “You two were together all morning?”
“We were bored. Had to get out of the house,” Jordyn said. “And I must say, my morning just got a lot more interesting. I hear Click is throwing a tantrum?”
Abby filled us in. Someone had sent her a picture of me with Savannah. Judging from the photo, they took the picture today. Which was impossible — I hadn’t seen Savannah since the Costume Crawl. Even at school she tried to avoid me. Payton, the football reporter, spotted Madison in the area. Was my ex-girlfriend stalking me? I didn’t like the idea, but I couldn’t deny the possibility that Madison would use Click to destroy my life. It was very much a Madi move. She didn’t want me anymore, but she sure didn’t want anyone else to have me either.
After Abby finished, Jordyn spoke.
“Well. I can tell you I was with Chase the whole morning. Haven’t seen Savannah other than the Costume Crawl. She kinda bailed on Chase in a hurry without giving him any chance to explain himself.”
There she goes again, I thought. Being just a little overprotective and accusing people of bailing on me. I guess our overprotective twin relationship truly went both ways.
“Did Chase put his arm around you today?” Abby asked.
I thought about it and answered before Jordyn did. “Once. I gave her like a half-hug after she complained that I wouldn’t let her eat frozen yogurt for breakfast.”
Jordyn gasped, pretending to be offended. “Pretty sure you have that backwards, Mr. Have You Tried The Birthday Cake With Peanut Butter Cups?”
Abby laughed. The sound was light and musical, and it filled me with warmth.
“So most likely scenario — Photoshop?”
I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. Faking pictures of me was low, even for Madison. “So, what now? Should I go talk to Madison?”
Jordyn cracked her knuckles. “Let me.”
“I want her disciplined, n
ot dead.”
“Dead is a type of discipline.”
Abby smirked at our banter. “What we need is proof. It seems like there’s a ninety percent chance that it involves Madison, but we can’t do anything until we know for sure. We need to catch her in the act.”
“How?” I looked at Abby, like she would have an answer prepared, but she shrugged.
“Great question.”
Jordyn glanced between Abby and I, seeming to read something. She stretched dramatically. She was not a natural actress. “And while you two try to figure that out, I will go for a wander. Catch you later.”
“Bye.” Abby smiled and waited for her to leave. “Does she know the truth about us now? Did you tell her?”
Good question. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell Jordyn the truth, especially with how psyched she was about me being with Abby. She loved her, and I mean, it made sense. Abby was great.
I shook my head. “No. I told her someone was sabotaging my relationships, and I told her you knew that too, and believed me, not the saboteur. She thinks this is for real with us. And she likes you for standing up for me, believing in me. I still haven’t told anyone the truth… have you?”
Abby shook her head, and I smiled, holding out my hand for her to take it. I felt glad. Somehow, I didn’t like the thought of anyone knowing this was fake. If nobody knew, it made it easier to pretend…
“So, I guess we’re still fake dating?” Abby brought me back to reality, away from any pretense I had just been imagining. “I mean, we need to look like we argued, but stayed together, so the saboteur strikes again. This will be the first time they didn’t get the job done in one go. They’re gonna be maaaaaad!”
We were on the right track, one step closer to catching the saboteur. So why did I feel so sad about it?
I spent the next hour strolling down Main Street with Abby. We dipped in and out of stores, grabbed some snacks, and plotted different ways to catch Madison. It would be challenging. Abby was convinced that Madison was laying the groundwork for something larger. If she wanted Abby to break up with me, she’d need to send more than a photo of me with Savannah.
However, we couldn’t act like nothing happened, either. We decided we had to create some artificial distance between us so that Madison would believe we were falling for her tricks. We wanted to encourage her, to hopefully draw her out so we could catch her in the act.
I walked Abby back to her car.
When we arrived at her vehicle, she stopped for a second, pausing with her hand on the door handle.
“It would’ve been okay,” she said.
“Huh?”
“If it had been you and Savannah in the pic, if it was taken today. Like for real.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” she said. “Find out who is sabotaging your relationships so you could date Savannah? But if you were with Savannah already without finding out, that would just be a bonus. Get her back in advance. We can still work on catching the saboteur in the meantime.”
She was right. That was the point. And it was my fault that I’d taken things more seriously than that. “And so you can write the social feature and make Nicholas like you.”
“Right,” she agreed, looking away. What wasn’t she telling me?
“So, I guess, as long as we are still dating and you still have an article to write… what’s next on your checklist?”
“Christmas Crush invite.”
“Still want it big and in public?”
“Don’t really care,” Abby said. “Just want to make sure someone invites me to a dance before I’m old, withered, and surrounded by cats.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, laughing.
She got in her car, and I watched her drive away.
I was left scratching my head. She said it wouldn’t bother her if I was with Savannah.
I was an idiot for even thinking for a second we might be something more than what we were.
When I got home, I planned to sit down, stare in the mirror, and tell myself again that for Abby, this was all Strictly Business. She liked intellectual guys; not dumb jocks like me. That’s what I was to her: A pawn. Friends or not underneath it all, she was just using our fake relationship for access to social climbing.
Nothing more.
31
Chase
With November came the first snowfall of the season. Football practice was a nightmare. The ball was tougher to hold, hits hurt a little more, and my arms were numb from the cold. We were gearing up for playoffs, and practice forced me to spend most of my time away from Abby. We were still officially fake-dating — the saboteur was yet to strike again. I was glad they were taking their time, whoever they were. I didn’t want to think about breaking up with Abby.
I mean, not that it would be a real break up, but still.
I thought about telling Abby the truth, that I was over Savannah. I mean, Savannah wasn’t even mad at me anymore. I didn’t really care if I got my explanation or not about who had sabotaged us. But somehow, every time I thought about telling Abby... I couldn’t. It would make things weird for her, and put our weird pact on a new, uneven playing field. Abby still needed me to get her social feature written, and I didn’t want to screw that up by blurting out the truth.
The Pinnacle’s office was near the back of the Fine Arts Building. Both the office and everyone inside smelled of strong coffee. Abby wasn’t there. Before arriving, I’d confirmed with Izzy that she was busy.
Which made this the perfect time to launch Operation Christmas Crush Invite — the next thing on the list.
Aside from Abby, the only person I knew who worked on the Pinnacle staff was Payton. She’d interviewed me a few times when writing articles on the football team, and she was always at the same parties I went to. When I arrived, she was working at a table in the corner, adjusting the layout of the next edition with a geeky-looking guy I assumed was the lead editor.
Was this Nicholas Applebee? My competition?
My expression darkened as I sized the nerdy guy up.
“Hey, Payton, can I steal you for a second?” I asked, trying to keep my tone sweeter than my thoughts.
She smiled and practically skipped away from the table. “What’s up?”
“You know how I’m dating Abby, right?”
“You’re all over Click. It’s almost disgusting.”
“It’s not the best,” I agreed. “Look, anyway, I want to ask her to the Christmas Crush. And I know that she wants it to be personal.”
Payton held up her hand. “If you’re thinking about asking her through a written ad in the Pinnacle, know we have a strict no-asking-people-out policy. It gets super awkward. It’s almost as bad as a public proposal.”
“I had something different in mind.” I reached into my backpack, pulled out a string of Christmas lights, and explained my plan.
Payton eyed me curiously. She looked impressed. “What do you need from me?”
“This.” I pulled out a piece of paper. It was a fake article I’d written announcing Abby’s acceptance of my Christmas Crush invite. It wasn’t very good — writing was Abby’s thing, not mine. But I had thought long and hard about what I should do, and this was it. Abby would love the gesture.
“I need to make this look like the front page of a newspaper. And that’s where you come in.” I looked at Payton hopefully as she took the piece of paper from me and skimmed it.
“Chase, this is legit cute. You must really like her.”
“It’s no big deal,” I lied. When I agreed to the fake relationship with Abby, one of her terms was that she wanted a big Christmas Crush invite. The problem with most invites, I decided, was that they were temporary. Someone decorated your car, you said yes, and then took the decorations down. I wanted to create the fake newspaper article because Abby would then have a souvenir. Something to remember this by. She was sentimental, she loved grand gestures. This had to wor
k.
“Can you do it?”
“Would’ve been easier if you sent an email,” Payton said. “Then I wouldn’t have to decipher your chicken scratch. But yes, I can do it. But you owe me, Chase. You owe me big.”
32
Abby
I read the text again.
Chase: Meet me at the football field at 5:30?
I paced through the Pinnacle office, a cup of decaf in my hand. Chase and I had talked little this week. Between my work on the social feature, other editorial tasks, and the monthly call from mom, I simply didn’t have time. I still felt a twinge of jealousy whenever I thought about the picture of him with Savannah. Even though the picture was fake, I remembered the way he looked at her during the Costume Crawl. It was a stark reminder that he was only in this so he could prove Madison was the saboteur and then have his life return to normal. It made me sad and angry. Even though he had done nothing wrong — he was just living up to our pact. But even a wonderful fake boyfriend was still a fake.
And yet, it was tough to imagine that he was faking everything. I’d fallen asleep with my head on his chest at the Jones Family Drive-In. I’d felt him running his hand over my arm. We’d held hands when no one was around. He’d planned spectacular dates for me — above and beyond what even a real boyfriend would do. Was that all fake?
I didn’t know. I’d never had an actual boyfriend.
I didn’t want to think about it. A fake relationship dissolved into pieces if you thought about it too hard. That’s why I’d been trying to ignore reality. That’s why I’d been doing the same thing mom did when something wasn’t perfect — burying myself in my work.
At 5:25, I threw on my jacket and wrapped my scarf around my neck. The sun had already set. The sky was dark. A handful of students scurried through the quad, snow swirling around them. Ice crunched beneath my boots as I walked to the football field, the wind nipping at my cheeks.
Chase sat alone on the creaking metal bleachers, looking gorgeous in his parka and dark hat. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly hot?
