005

Harper's POV

"Fake date you?”

I repeated it back to him slowly, maybe I had misheard, maybe those three words hadn't just come out of Ashton Reid's mouth with that insufferable smirk on his face.

He nodded once, he looked unbothered. Like he had just offered me something I should be grateful for.

I stared at him for long. Then I laughed.

A real and genuine one, the kind that came from somewhere deep in my stomach because I genuinely could not believe what I was hearing.

"I'm sorry," I managed, pressing a hand to my chest. "You want me to fake date you?"

"It's a practical solution," he said, as if this was a business meeting.

"A practical—" I laughed again, shaking my head. "Ashton, you are possibly the most arrogant person I have ever met in my entire life. And I once sat next to a guy in philosophy class who argued with the professor for forty minutes about why his own opinion was more valid than the course material."

Annoyance flickered across his face.

"This isn't arrogance," he said. "It's an offer."

"It's delusional," I corrected, already pulling my bag higher on my shoulder. "You think I'm going to pretend to date you? After everything? After you told your entire hockey team I threw myself at you? After Sienna's petition? After the videos?" I tilted my head at him. "And you thought what, I'd just say yes and be grateful?"

"I thought you'd be smart enough to consider it."

"I am smart enough," I said flatly. "That's exactly why the answer is no."

I turned and walked away. This time, I didn't look back.

I made it exactly four steps before I heard him behind me.

"You're going to regret this."

"I already regret most things that involve you," I called back without turning around. "What's one more?"

He didn't follow me after that.

I kept walking, I kept my chin up, I didn't let myself feel anything until I turned the corner and the humanities building disappeared behind me.

Then I exhaled so hard it physically hurt.

I walked into my biology class and noticed it immediately. The way heads turned. The way conversations dropped just low enough that I could tell they were about me but not low enough to hear what was being said. Someone had printed one of the edited photos, the ones Sienna's friends had posted with those captions and taped it to the seat I always sat in.

I stood in the doorway for a second, looking at it.

The girl beside that seat was already watching me, waiting to see what I'd do.

I peeled the photo off, folded it in half without looking at it, and sat down.

Nobody said anything. But I felt every single eye in that room on the back of my neck for the entire lecture, and by the time I packed up my things to leave, my hands were shaking in a way I couldn't explain away.

I had barely made it out the door when I heard her voice.

"Oh wow. She actually survived a whole class without crying."

Sienna was leaning against the wall just outside the lecture hall with two of her friends flanking her like they had coordinated their arrival. She had that particular look on her face, the sweet one, the one that was designed to make whatever she said next sound almost accidental.

"I'm not doing this," I muttered and kept walking.

"I'm just saying," Sienna continued, loud enough for the students still filtering out behind me to hear, "for someone who claims the night meant nothing, she's been looking pretty shaken up about it."

"And the petition has over three hundred signatures now, by the way. In case you were curious."

That made me slow down despite myself.

"Three hundred people think you shouldn't be allowed near the hockey rink," she said, her voice almost cheerful. "Which, honestly? Is valid. Nobody wants someone that desperate around athletes. It's embarrassing for everyone."

I turned around then because I was tired, because my hands were already shaking, because I had peeled a photo off my seat this morning and sat through an entire lecture feeling like I was on display and I was done being quiet about it.

"You don't even know me," I said.

Sienna blinked, like she hadn't expected actual words.

"You've never spoken to me. You don't know anything about me. You just decided I was a threat to something you wanted and now you're here with your three hundred signatures and your edited photos like that means something." My voice was steady, which surprised me. "It doesn't. It just means you have a lot of free time and very little to actually worry about."

The two girls beside her exchanged a look.

Sienna's sweet expression didn't waver, but her eyes had turned much colder. "Cute," she said. "But confidence doesn't really suit you, Harper. It just looks like you're trying too hard."

"And desperation doesn't suit you," I shot back. "But here we are."

I turned and walked, and for about four seconds, I felt good about that.

Then Sienna's voice sounded from behind me, much louder now, aimed at the small crowd that had gathered.

"Check the group chat, by the way! Someone screen recorded her little speech just now. Honestly it'll be funnier the second time."

Laughter erupted behind me.

I didn't stop walking but something inside me cracked. I ducked around the side of the building, into the narrow path between the humanities block and the library wall, and leaned back against the brick and just stood there.

My throat was tight. My eyes burned.

I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and breathed.

I was not going to cry on campus again. I had done that twice already and both times ended up in a video. I was not giving anyone a third one.

"You handled that worse than I expected."

I spun around so fast my bag swung off my shoulder.

Ashton was standing at the end of the narrow path with his hands in his jacket pockets, watching me with an expression I couldn't read.

"Were you following me?" I demanded.

"I was cutting through," he said simply. "You happened to be here."

"How convenient." I rolled my eyes.

"Mm." He tilted his head toward the direction I'd come from. "Three hundred signatures."

"Is it that bad?”

"And that was just this week." He stepped forward, unhurried. "Wait until she gets the sorority houses involved. They'll triple it by Friday."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to hear it." He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I couldn't pretend I wasn't listening. "You stood up to her just now and it was impressive, really.  But it doesn't protect you on this campus. Ashton Reid does."

I looked at him, and I wanted so badly to say something cutting, something that would make him walk away and leave me alone for good.

But he kept going.

"I'm not going to keep offering," he said. "That's not something I do. I offered, and you laughed at me, which, for the record, nobody does." His voice made it clear that wasn't entirely a complaint.

“But I'm here now. And Sienna is out there. And by tonight there'll be a new video of you looking cornered against a wall and it'll have a hundred comments before you even know it's been posted."

I hated that he was right.

I hated it so much I couldn't even argue with it.

"Why do you even care?" I asked, because I genuinely needed to understand. "What do you actually get out of this?"

He looked at me for a moment. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," I said. "It matters a lot actually."

He was quiet for just long enough that I thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Last chance, Harper," he said instead, his voice quieter now, stripped of the smirk. "Walk out of this path with me, or walk out alone and see how long you last."