Chapter One — Lila’s POV

If there’s one thing I regret about TikTok, it’s how a thirty-second video can ruin your entire life.

Case in point: me, Lila Bennett—straight-A student, aspiring journalist, certified nobody—currently sitting on my bed at midnight with greasy hair in a messy bun, ranting into my front camera about the one person I swore I’d never talk about.

Jason Cole.

Yes, that Jason Cole. The walking stereotype of every high school rom-com: quarterback, straight white teeth, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and an ego so inflated it probably has its own zip code. He’s also the reason I never volunteer to answer questions in history class. Because Jason Cole has mastered the art of leaning over my desk, whispering, “What’s number three?” while flashing me that stupid grin teachers fall for every time.

So, naturally, when my best friend texted, “Lila, you should totally expose him on TikTok for stealing your pens again,” I did what any normal, sleep-deprived teenager would do.

I pulled out my phone and started recording.

“Jason Cole?” I said, smirking at the camera. “Yeah, sure. He’s basically my boyfriend. He steals my pens, cheats off my history homework, and drives me insane. Honestly, the full boyfriend experience.”

I snorted at my own sarcasm, tossed my pen dramatically over my shoulder, and hit post. Only my close friends were supposed to see it. A harmless inside joke. A tiny vent into the void.

Or so I thought.

By the time I woke up the next morning, my phone was a funeral procession of notifications.

🔔 1,000 new likes

🔔 2,300 comments

🔔 17 new followers

And worst of all,tag after tag after tag: @JasonColeOfficial.

My stomach dropped. “Oh no. Oh no no no no.”

Apparently, one of my so-called “close friends” had screen-recorded the video and sent it to someone else, who sent it to someone else, and now—well—now the entire school thought I was claiming Jason Cole as my boyfriend.

I walked into the cafeteria that morning, clutching my tray like a riot shield. Whispers exploded as soon as I crossed the threshold.

“Is that her?”

“That’s the girl in the TikTok!”

“Jason’s girlfriend!”

I wanted to melt into the tile floor.

And then, like a scene ripped out of a movie I never auditioned for, Jason Cole himself stood up from his table. His friends were already laughing, their phones out, filming like this was premium entertainment. Jason brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, locked his annoyingly blue gaze on me, and… waved.

“Lila, babe!” he shouted, loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear. “Save me a seat after school!”

I froze. My tray wobbled. Somewhere behind me, someone gasped.

Phones clicked. Cameras flashed.

I swear my soul left my body, packed a suitcase, and booked a one-way flight to Mars.

After lunch, I cornered Jason at his locker. Or at least I tried to corner him, but you can’t exactly intimidate someone when you barely reach their shoulder and they smell like expensive cologne.

“What the heck was that?” I hissed.

Jason shut his locker with deliberate slowness, leaning against it like he was posing for a teen drama poster. “What was what?”

“You know what!” I jabbed my finger at him. “The cafeteria. The shouting. The babe.” I practically choked on the word.

He smirked, and I hated—hated—how good he looked doing it. “Oh, that? Just playing along.”

“Playing along?” I repeated, stunned. “You turned a private joke into a full-on performance!”

“Correction.” Jason pointed at me with a lazy grin. “You turned it into a viral TikTok. I’m just capitalizing on it.”

“Capita—?!” I sputtered. “You can’t just—this isn’t—ugh!” Words failed me. English failed me. My entire vocabulary abandoned ship.

Jason chuckled, clearly enjoying my meltdown. Then he leaned closer, dropping his voice so only I could hear. “Relax, Bennett. I’m doing you a favor.”

“A favor?!”

He nodded. “See, my friends made a bet with me. Said I couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month. If I win, I get front-row tickets to the Battle of the Bands concert next month.”

I blinked. “And this has… what, exactly, to do with me?”

“You’re my girlfriend now.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “At least, according to the internet. So why not make it official?”

I nearly swallowed my own tongue. “You want me to pretend date you?!”

Jason shrugged. “It’s mutually beneficial. You get to, I don’t know, boost your social standing or whatever, and I get to win my bet. Win-win.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again. Like a malfunctioning goldfish. “I don’t want to boost my social standing. I want to survive junior year without being turned into a meme!”

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Too late for that, babe.”

I groaned and slapped my forehead.

And just when I thought my day couldn’t get worse, a voice cut through the hallway noise.

“Lila?”

I turned. Standing a few lockers down was Alex Rivera. Smart, sweet, ridiculously nice Alex Rivera—my very real, very inconvenient crush. He was staring at Jason’s arm draped casually around my shoulders, his expression unreadable.

Oh. No.

Jason, of course, tightened his hold, smirking like he’d just won the Super Bowl. “Hey, Rivera. Don’t mind us. Just hanging with my girlfriend.”

My cheeks burned. My heart raced.

And in that moment, I realized two things:

firstly,I was officially trapped in the most ridiculous fake relationship in history and secondly, I might actually be doomed.