4

Vienne's POV*

I stepped into the school library which had always been a place of sanctuary to me. But today, it felt like a battlefield.

I arrived there at 3:55 pm, Damon’s folded jacket tucked neatly inside my bag. My hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, makeup light but flawless enough to hide the remnants of last night’s hangover. I chose a corner table on the second floor, private enough for a serious conversation.

At exactly 4:02, the door to the stairwell opened. Damon Calloway strolled in, still in his basketball practice gear; dark shorts, a fitted gray hoodie damp and gym bag slung over one broad shoulder. A few strands falling into those piercing green eyes. 

And I frowned at how I was paying so much attention to his appearance. He scanned the room once and spotted me before walking over without hesitation.

He took his seat in the chair across from me, the wood creaking under his weight. Up close, he looked even taller than I remembered from the club. What was I expecting from an athlete?

“You’re early,” he bluntly said, voice low and calm. No greeting, no smile.

I lifted an eyebrow, trying to match his energy. “Or you’re two minutes late. I thought athletes were supposed to be punctual.”

He shrugged, leaning back slightly. “Practice ran long. The coach was on one today.” His green eyes flicked over my face, assessing. “You look better than last night. Less likely to face-plant.”

Heat crept up my neck in slight embarrassment, but I kept my expression steady. “Thanks for the reminder. And thanks for… catching me. I don’t usually drink like that.”

Damon’s mouth twitched into something close to a smile . “Didn’t think you did. Reyes girls shouldn't end up in clubs on a Monday night.”

Ignoring his remark, I reached into my bag and pulled out his jacket, sliding it across the table toward him. “Here. You left this with me. Or rather, I kept it. It smelled better than the club anyway.”

He took the jacket, fingers brushing mine for a split second. The contact sent an unexpected spark up my arm. He didn’t comment on it, just folded the jacket once and set it on the empty chair beside him.

“Thanks,” he said simply. Then he waited, watching me with a raised brow. His eyes were patient but sharp, like he already knew I hadn’t asked him here just to return a jacket. Smart enough.

I took a slow breath. This was it. 

“Look, I’m not going to waste your time with small talk,” I began, leaning forward. My voice stayed even, professional; the same tone I used when presenting group projects. “You saw the photo this morning. Everyone did. Ryan dumped me yesterday in the courtyard for my ex-best friend, Amelia.”

Damon’s expression didn’t change much, but he gave a small nod. “I heard.”

“Yeah. Rough.” I echoed the word he’d used outside the club. “Our photo makes it look like I moved on with you in one night. People are already talking. Ryan and Amelia are definitely riled up.”

He tilted his head slightly. “And that bothers you?”

“It did at first,” I admitted, surprised by my own honesty. “But now… I think it can work in my favor. In *our* favor.”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “Our favor?”

I nodded

“Make it make sense, Reyes.”

“Here’s the deal. Your grades are tanking, everyone knows it. Scholarship’s on the line and I know you can’t afford to lose that ride.”

His jaw tightened just a fraction the first real reaction I’d seen. “You sure did your homework.” It came out sharp.

“I just pay attention,” I said. “I can tutor you, Calloway. Every subject you’re struggling with. Math, English, history, whichever it is, I’ll make sure you pass with grades high enough to keep your scholarship safe. No charge. You'd get into college too.”

He studied me for a long moment, fingers drumming once on the table. “And what do you want in return, Reyes? Nobody offers something like that for free.”

I met his gaze directly. “Let's have a fake date. I want you to be my fake boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air between us. Damon didn’t laugh. He didn’t look shocked. He just watched me.

“Fake boyfriend,” he repeated slowly, tasting the words. “Explain.”

“Public appearances only,” I said quickly, keeping my voice low so no one else in the library could overhear. “We walk the halls together. Sit together at lunch sometimes. Let people see us talking, maybe holding hands if it looks natural. Post a couple of casual photos. Enough to make Ryan jealous ”

“Make Ryan Jealous” he echoed, a hint of dry amusement in his tone. “You want your boyfriend back. You want to use me.”

“Something like that.” I mumbled out hesitatingly. “Please , I can't let Amelia win. Seeing me with someone who doesn’t bow to the elite will drive Ryan crazy. And Amelia… she definitely won't be able to withstand it. It’ll burn her.”

Damon let out a short, low chuckle, the first real sound of amusement I’d heard from him. It was rough and surprisingly warm. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“I have,” I said. “But it’s not just revenge. It’s protection. I refuse to walk these halls as the pathetic dumped girl for the rest of senior year. I want control back. And you… you get straight grades and your future secured. Win-win.”

He leaned forward now, elbows on the table, green eyes locking onto mine. The intensity made my pulse stutter.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, voice dropping lower. “You want me to pretend to date you. Hold your hand in the hallway. Maybe kiss you in front of your ex if the moment calls for it. All so you can save face, make your ex jealous and get him back. And in return, you’ll tutor me until I’m passing everything.”

I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close we were. “Yes. That’s the deal. No real feelings. No complications. It ends whenever one of us wants out or when I get back with Ryan, whichever comes first.”

Damon was quiet for several long seconds. The library clock ticked softly in the background. A few students passed by on the lower level, laughing about something unrelated.

Finally, he spoke. “What if I say no?”

I shrugged, trying to look unbothered even though my stomach twisted. “Then the photo stays a one-night mistake, and I figure something else out. But I think you’ll say yes. You need the grades. I need the image. It’s practical.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, considering. “Practical,” he muttered, almost to himself. Then he looked at me again, that piercing gaze searching my face. “One condition.”

My breath caught. “Name it.”

“No lying to my sister. She’s twelve but smart as hell. If she asks, we tell her the truth or at least enough of it. I won’t fake it around her.”

I blinked, surprised by how quickly he’d thought of that. “Sure. I can cope with that.”

Damon extended his hand across the table. “Then we have an agreement, Reyes.”

I slid my palm into his. His grip was warm, firm, calloused from basketball practices. The handshake lingered a second longer than necessary. When we pulled apart, something electric hummed in the air between us.

He slung his gym bag over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “Tomorrow morning, let's meet at the east entrance before the first bell.”

I nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at my lips for the first time in two days. “Tomorrow. East entrance.”

As he turned to leave, he paused and glanced back. “One more thing, Vienne.”

“Yeah?”

His green eyes held a hint of challenge. “Try not to fall for me for real. This is fake, remember?”

I let out a soft laugh. Isn't he cocky? “Same goes for you, Calloway. Don’t get too comfortable.”

He finally headed down the stairs without another word.

I stayed at the table a moment longer, heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement before my eyes fell on his jacket which he'd forgotten again.