004 - Rumors Start

Scarlett's POV

My phone woke me at 6 a.m.

Not an alarm. Messages. So many messages the buzzing didn't stop.

I groaned, rolled over, grabbed it.

Seventeen texts from Maya.

Maya: SCARLETT

Maya: WAKE UP

Maya: What is this

Maya: [link]

Maya: HELLO??

Maya: Why is your face all over the Westwood gossip page

I sat up so fast the room spun.

Opened the link.

The Westwood Whisperer. Anonymous school gossip account. Fifty thousand followers.

The post showed a photo. Blurry. Taken from a distance. But clear enough.

Me and Ronan. At the edge of the parking lot. Yesterday after school.

His hand reaching for my face. Tucking hair behind my ear. Me looking up at him like—

Like what?

The caption made my stomach drop.

Ronan Whitmore caught getting cozy with scholarship girl Scarlett Hayes late last night. Sources say they've been secret for weeks. Guess the punch spill wasn't an accident after all. 🔥👀

Late last night.

It wasn't late. It was 4 p.m. Broad daylight.

But the photo looked darker. Shadows made it look like evening. Whoever took it knew what they were doing.

Comments flooded beneath.

No way. She's not his type.

Maybe she's his new project. He likes fixing broken things.

Scholarship girl trying to climb the ladder. Pathetic.

They'd be hot together though.

She's using him. Everyone knows.

He's using her. Everyone knows.

My hands shook.

I scrolled further. Someone had tagged Ronan's account. Someone else had tagged the principal. The post had been up for six hours. Six hours of comments. Six hours of rumors.

Six hours of me sleeping while my life exploded.

My phone rang. Maya.

I answered.

"Tell me it's fake."

"It's—"

"Scarlett Hayes, tell me right now that photo is photoshopped."

I closed my eyes. "It's not photoshopped."

Silence.

"Maya—"

"I'm coming over."

The line went dead.

I stared at the photo again. His hand on my face. My expression soft. Vulnerable.

I looked at him like I trusted him.

I didn't trust him.

But the girl in that photo didn't know that.

Mom called from the kitchen. "Scarlett? Everything okay?"

"Fine!" My voice cracked. "Be right out."

I threw on clothes. Ran downstairs. Mom sat at the table with her coffee, looking better today. Less pale. Less tired.

Thank God she didn't have social media.

"Early for a Saturday." She smiled. "Plans?"

"Study group." Lie. "Maya's picking me up."

"Fun. Tell her hi."

The doorbell rang.

Saved.

I grabbed my bag, kissed Mom's cheek, and escaped.

Maya stood on the porch, phone in hand, face thunderous.

"Get in the car. Now."

Her car was a beat-up Honda she'd saved two years for. I climbed in. She peeled away from the curb.

"Talk."

"There's nothing to—"

"I saw the photo, Scarlett. I saw his hand on your face. I saw you looking at him like he hung the moon." She glanced at me, then back at the road. "You told me nothing was wrong. You lied."

"I didn't lie."

She gripped the wheel. "What did he want?"

I was quiet too long.

"Scarlett."

"He made an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"He'll fix the scholarship thing. Make the cheating investigation disappear. In exchange for—"

I stopped. Couldn't say it out loud.

"In exchange for what?"

Three months. Fake dating. Trust no one.

"I can't tell you."

Maya slammed on the brakes. Pulled into a parking lot. Turned to face me.

"Yes you can. I'm your best friend. The only person at that school who gives a damn about you. You can tell me anything."

"I know."

"So tell me."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

Trust no one. Ronan's voice echoed.

If word got out, the deal was off. And I'd wish I'd taken the cheating investigation.

"I can't." My voice cracked. "Maya, I want to. But I can't. Not yet."

She stared at me. Hurt flickered across her face.

"Fine." She turned back to the wheel. "Then tell me this. Is it true? Are you two together?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

She pulled back onto the road. Silent. The air between us thick with everything I couldn't say.

She dropped me at the library. Didn't ask if I wanted to go there. Just pulled up and waited.

"Maya—"

"Text me later." She didn't look at me. "When you can actually talk."

She drove away.

I stood alone outside the library, phone buzzing again. More notifications. More comments. More eyes on a life I'd spent three years trying to hide.

Inside, I found a corner table. Away from windows. Away from people.

Opened my phone.

The post had exploded. Six thousand comments now. Someone had made a poll: Real couple or PR stunt?

PR stunt. Someone was closer to the truth than they knew.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

Check outside.

I looked up.

Through the library window, a black car sat at the curb. Tinted windows. Engine running.

Another buzz.

Get in.

I should ignore it. Should stay hidden. Should text Maya and beg her to come back.

Instead, I walked outside.

The back door opened. Ronan sat inside, phone in hand, face unreadable.

"Get in."

"People will see."

"People already saw." He nodded at my phone. "The damage is done. Now get in."

I climbed in. The door closed. The car pulled away.

He looked at me. Dark circles under his eyes. Jaw tight.

"You didn't text back."

"I didn't know what to say."

"Say 'I saw the post.' Say 'what do we do.' Say anything." Frustration bled through his voice. "I've been waiting all night."

"You've been waiting? I woke up to seventeen texts from my best friend and a photo of us on a gossip page with fifty thousand likes."

"Sixty-three thousand now."

I wanted to throw his phone out the window.

"This is your fault."

"I know."

The admission stopped me.

"What?"

"I know it's my fault." He ran a hand through his hair. "Someone's watching. Someone's always watching. I should have been more careful."

"You think?"

He looked at me. Really looked. "Are you okay?"

The question caught me off guard.

"What?"

"Your face is all over the internet. People are saying terrible things about you. Your best friend probably thinks you've been lying to her." He paused. "Are you okay?"

No one had asked me that all morning.

"I don't know."

He nodded like that made sense.

"The car will circle for a while. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About what happens next." He leaned forward. "The rumors are out. We can't control that. But we can control how we respond."

"What do you mean?"

"Monday morning. We walk in together. Hold hands. Look like a couple." He held my gaze. "We give them what they want. Confirm the rumors. Then they get bored and move on."

"You want to confirm we're together?"

"I want to control the narrative." His voice dropped. "Right now, people are guessing. Making up stories. If we stay silent, they'll fill the gaps with worse lies. If we give them a simple truth, they lose interest."

"A simple truth."

"That we're dating. That's it. No details. No explanations. Just two people together."

Two people together.

Fake together.

"And if someone asks how long?"

"Say it's new. Say we wanted to keep it private. Say whatever feels right." He paused. "Just don't say it's fake."

I thought about Maya's face. The hurt in her eyes.

"My best friend hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She's worried." He said it like he knew. Like he understood worry. "Tell her as much as you can without breaking the deal. She'll come around."

"You don't know that."

"I know people." His voice went quiet. "I know who stays and who leaves. She'll stay."

I wanted to believe him.

The car circled the block again. The library passed outside the window.

"Monday morning," I said. "We walk in together."

"Yes."

"What do I wear?"

Something shifted in his expression. Almost a smile.

"Something that says 'I'm with him by choice, not accident.'"

"And if people ask why you picked me?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"Tell them the truth."

"What truth?"

"That I've been watching you for three years." His eyes held mine. "That you're the only person at that school who's real. That I got tired of pretending you weren't the most interesting person in every room."

The words landed somewhere deep.

"That's not the truth. That's just the story."

"Is it?" He leaned closer. Close enough that I felt the heat from his body. "You think I offered this deal to anyone else? You think I'd risk my reputation, my family's name, for just anyone?"

"I don't know what to think."

"Good." His voice dropped. "Then stop thinking. Just trust me."

Trust no one. Including him.

But in this moment, with his eyes on mine and the city passing outside, I almost wanted to.

Almost.

The car pulled back to the library.

"Monday morning," he said. "I'll pick you up. Seven thirty."

"I don't want anyone seeing a car at my house."

"Then I'll meet you at the corner." He handed me a phone. New. Still in box. "Take this. Private line. Only I have the number. Text me if anything changes."

I stared at the phone.

"This is insane."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it keeps being true."

He almost smiled. Actually almost smiled.

"Monday, Scarlett. We survive this together."

I got out of the car. Watched it drive away.

My phone buzzed. Maya.

Maya: I'm sorry for freaking out. Just worried. You ok?

I typed back.

Me: Not really. But I will be. Can we talk tomorrow?

Maya: Always. Love you.

Me: Love you too.

I slipped the new phone into my bag. Looked at the old one. The gossip post had hit eighty thousand likes.

Monday morning, everything changed.