Rules Were Meant to Be Broken

Amara stared at their hands like her brain had temporarily stopped processing reality.

Julian Reyes was holding her hand.

Not accidentally.

Not briefly.

Not in a “this can be explained away” kind of way.

Properly.

Intertwined fingers. Warm grip. Steady pressure.

Like it was normal.

Like it wasn’t doing something absolutely illegal to her heartbeat.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she said flatly.

Julian didn’t look away. “Yes.”

That honesty should’ve been illegal too.

Amara tried to pull her hand back.

It didn’t work.

Not because he was holding her too tightly—

but because she stopped halfway.

Which was worse.

“Rule three,” he said casually.

“What?”

“Pretend to enjoy it in public.”

Amara glared at him. “This is not public. This is an empty hallway where you are committing crimes against personal space.”

Julian glanced around. “There are cameras.”

Of course there were.

Amara sighed sharply. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I’m observing,” he corrected.

“That’s worse.”

A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Is it?”

Amara hated that her body had decided his smile was a problem.

A very big problem.

She finally managed to pull her hand away, but the warmth lingered like it refused to leave.

Annoying.

“Listen,” she said, stepping back, regaining control of her voice. “Just because we agreed to fake this doesn’t mean you get to—do that.”

“Hold your hand?”

“Yes.”

Julian tilted his head slightly. “Why?”

Amara hesitated.

Because it felt too real.

Because it made her feel seen in a way she didn’t trust.

Because it made her forget, for a second, that she didn’t do relationships anymore.

Instead she said, “Because it’s weird.”

Julian nodded slowly like he was considering her answer seriously.

“Noted.”

Then, after a pause:

“But necessary.”

“For what?”

“For convincing people.”

Amara narrowed her eyes. “Nobody believes this already.”

Julian leaned back slightly against the railing.

“They will.”

Something in the way he said it made her uncomfortable again.

Like he wasn’t guessing.

Like he was certain.

Before she could question him further, footsteps echoed down the hall.

Ivy appeared first, followed by Noah, both immediately freezing when they saw them.

Ivy’s eyes widened dramatically.

“Oh my God.”

Noah slowly pointed. “You’re holding hands.”

“We were not,” Amara said instantly.

Julian calmly added, “We were.”

Amara turned to him. “Whose side are you on?”

“Reality’s.”

“That’s not helpful.”

Ivy looked delighted beyond human limits. “This is actually happening.”

“It is not happening,” Amara insisted.

Noah leaned closer. “It looks like it’s happening.”

Julian glanced at Amara. “We should probably adjust to the narrative.”

“The narrative is wrong.”

“The narrative is powerful,” Ivy said solemnly.

Amara wanted to disappear.

Julian, meanwhile, looked entirely too calm for someone who had just dragged her into emotional chaos before lunch.

---

By the time they reached class, the hallway had already decided a storyline.

Phones were out.

Whispers followed.

Someone had already titled a post:

“JULIAN REYES FINALLY CHOSE SOMEONE?”

Amara walked faster.

Julian matched her pace easily.

“You’re not affected by this at all?” she asked quietly.

“I am.”

“You don’t look like it.”

“I’ve had practice.”

That answer made her glance at him.

But he wasn’t elaborating.

Of course not.

Julian Reyes seemed like the kind of person who always stopped one sentence before the truth.

They entered the classroom.

And immediately—

Silence shifted again.

People noticed.

Of course they did.

Amara felt it instantly.

Eyes flicking between them.

The earlier hallway moment had already spread.

Great.

She slid into her seat quickly.

Julian sat beside her.

Of course he did.

“You could sit anywhere,” she muttered under her breath.

“I prefer here.”

“Why?”

“Less noise.”

Amara snorted quietly. “You’re sitting next to me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

That made her pause slightly.

Before she could respond, Mrs. Holloway began the lesson.

But Amara couldn’t focus.

Because Julian wasn’t writing.

He was watching her.

Not in a creepy way.

Not openly.

Just… occasionally.

Like she was a thought he couldn’t finish.

At one point, she turned slightly. “Can you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

Julian blinked once. “Like what?”

“Like I’m—” she struggled, annoyed at herself. “I don’t know. Like I’m interesting.”

“You are.”

The answer came immediately.

Too immediately.

Amara froze.

“That was not the correct response,” she said.

Julian’s lips twitched. “What is the correct response?”

“‘No I’m not,’” she said flatly.

“That would be dishonest.”

“Try it anyway.”

He leaned slightly closer.

“No.”

Amara stared at him.

“You’re very difficult to negotiate with,” she muttered.

“I’m not negotiating.”

“That’s worse.”

Julian looked away then, briefly, like something in her expression had made him reconsider teasing her.

A rare moment.

But it didn’t last.

Because at lunch, everything exploded again.

---

Someone had edited a video.

Of their hand-holding.

With slow music.

Of course.

Ivy showed Amara the screen like it was sacred content.

“This is cinema.”

Amara wanted to evaporate.

Julian, on the other hand, watched it with mild curiosity.

No embarrassment.

No panic.

Just analysis.

“That’s exaggerated,” Amara said.

“It’s edited,” Julian agreed.

“Why are you so calm?”

He looked at her. “Should I be panicking?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because people think this is real.”

Julian paused.

Then said, quietly:

“Maybe that’s the point.”

Amara stiffened slightly. “It’s not real.”

“I know.”

Something in his tone made her hesitate.

Because he said it too smoothly.

Too controlled.

Like he was reminding himself more than her.

Before she could push further, another group of girls passed.

One of them laughed.

“She looks so basic next to him.”

Amara felt it instantly.

That old sting.

That reflex.

That shrinking feeling she hated.

Her fingers tightened under the table.

Julian noticed.

Of course he did.

Without a word, he pushed his drink toward her.

Then said quietly:

“Don’t listen.”

Amara exhaled sharply. “I’m not listening.”

“You are,” he replied calmly.

That made her pause.

Because he wasn’t accusing her.

Just observing.

Like it was a fact.

Not a flaw.

That hit differently than it should’ve.

She looked away quickly.

Too quickly.

---

After school, Amara tried to escape.

She really did.

But Julian followed her again.

Not immediately.

Not forcefully.

Just… always ending up near her.

“You’re stalking me now?” she asked without turning.

“I’m walking in the same direction.”

“You changed direction.”

“So did you.”

Amara stopped walking.

He stopped too.

The air between them felt different again.

Less chaotic.

More focused.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she said quietly.

“Doing what?”

“Making this feel real.”

Julian didn’t answer immediately.

And that silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

Finally, he stepped closer.

Not too close.

But close enough that she had to look up slightly.

“I told you,” he said softly. “I don’t like noise.”

Amara frowned. “So?”

“You’re the only thing that’s quieting it.”

That sentence landed wrong.

Or right.

She couldn’t tell.

But her chest tightened anyway.

“That’s not a good reason,” she said.

“It’s the only one I have.”

That honesty again.

Always catching her off guard.

Amara swallowed.

“This fake dating thing,” she said slowly, “it’s going to end badly.”

Julian studied her for a long moment.

Then nodded.

“Probably.”

“Then why are we doing it?”

A pause.

Longer this time.

Then, softly:

“Because for once… I want people to see you the way I do.”

Amara stopped breathing for a second.

And she hated that.

She really did.

Because nothing about that sentence was fake.

Nothing about the way he said it felt rehearsed.

And that was exactly the problem.

Before she could respond—

Julian’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at it.

And something in his expression shifted.

Not fear.

Not surprise.

Something sharper.

Quieter.

Like recognition.

Amara noticed instantly. “What is it?”

Julian looked at her.

Then, very calmly, slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Nothing.”

But his eyes didn’t match the word.

And for the first time since this fake relationship started—

Amara realized something unsettling.

Julian Reyes wasn’t just playing along.

He was hiding something.

From her.