Chapter Six

Cole’s POV

“You did what?” I snapped, the words coming out sharper than intended.

Tyler sat sprawled across the couch, completely unbothered, eating popcorn like he was watching a live show. He shrugged.

“I gave a girl your number.”

“No. No. Who exactly did you give it to?”

“Relax, man. Try to be chill about it.”

“Chill? Sure.”

Except nothing about this was remotely chill.

Ever since the night of the festival, call it algorithm, or coincidence stacked on coincidence, or something less random, but a certain red-haired girl had been appearing in my space far more often than made sense. Tyler, of course, had filled in the blanks where I didn’t ask, her name, and an unnecessary number of reminders about the kiss.

Every time I saw Riley, she was trying to get away from me. Now she wanted my number? That didn’t align. There was missing information somewhere in this equation, and I didn’t like working with incomplete variables.

My phone rang.

“Ouu, that must be her,” Tyler said, jumping up before I could react. He grabbed my phone and answered it, putting it on speaker almost immediately.

I exhaled, already irritated.

“Hello…. Hello? Hello?” Her voice filled the room. Clear. Slightly breathless. Tyler looked at me expectantly, like he was waiting for a performance. I stayed quiet. The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. Then the call dropped.

“What the hell was that, man?” Tyler asked, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Why were you silent?”

“I didn’t approve any of that situation.”

“Still, aren’t you curious to know why she called?”

“No.”

A lie. I don’t like gaps. I don’t like questions without answers. But I like unnecessary complications even less. I took my phone from him, grabbed my bag, and headed toward the door.

“Where are you off to, man?” Tyler called after me, already halfway back to his phone.

“The lab.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of the lab?”

“Do you ever get tired of theatre?”

He paused.

“Valid point.”

---

The walk to campus usually takes twenty minutes. I barely registered five. The rest of the time, my thoughts kept circling back to her. Unproductive. Why did she suddenly want to reach out?

The kiss.

I should have filed that away and moved on.

Instead, it lingered, too clear, too detailed. The deliberate way she leaned in, like she had already decided the outcome before it happened. The contrast between that moment and the version of her I’d seen on stage, controlled, precise, intentional.

And then off stage, erratic, unpredictable. The inconsistency bothered me more than anything else. So did the fact that I remembered it at all. My body’s reaction to that moment was another variable I chose not to examine too closely.

Irrelevant. My focus needed to be elsewhere. The photo. Every time I got one version taken down, another surfaced. The replication wasn’t random, it was fast, coordinated, persistent.

I hate attention. Especially when I didn’t authorize it.

I hadn’t been able to reach Ethan since the incident. As much as I wanted to pin everything on him, the pattern didn’t match. He may have sparked the initial situation, but he didn’t have the precision or discipline to maintain something like this.

He wasn’t the source. My thoughts cut short when I heard my name. I stopped. Turned. And there she was. Running toward me.

Riley.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.

She stopped in front of me, slightly out of breath, trying to compose herself.

“Hi… My name is…. Riley.” Pause, trying to catch her breath, then,

“I don’t know if you can remember, but I’m the girl who kissed you on the night of the festival. I’m not saying that I remember because the kiss was memorable or something. Or that a lot of random girls kiss you and run off.”

She stopped. Probably realization.

“I’m sorry, but I need your help.”

I said nothing. Just watched. There was something almost impressive about how quickly she moved from confidence to chaos.

---

I don’t know why I followed her to the café. That wasn’t entirely true. Curiosity is still curiosity, even when it’s inconvenient. We sat across from each other. The café smelled faintly of roasted coffee and sugar, the low hum of conversation settling into the background.

I ordered an iced black coffee. She ordered a milkshake. Predictable.

“Firstly, I want to apologize again, for uhhh.. using you as a prop that night.”

Her fingers curled around a strand of her hair, twisting it as she avoided eye contact.

“I know this is totally bizarre but I kinda need a favour.”

I raised a brow, but remained silent.

“So, my mom came across a video, one that showed me kissing you, and now she thinks you’re my boyfriend. And she’s coming here on Saturday so she can meet you.”

She rushed through it. I stayed still. Processing. That… explained the urgency. I pinched the bridge of my nose, already regretting several decisions—mainly not stopping Tyler before this started.

She shifted slightly, watching me, waiting for a response that didn’t come fast enough.

“In essence, I need you to be my boyfriend. Fake boyfriend actually. Sit with me through one lunch with my mom. I would do whatever you want in return.”

There it was. A proposal. Messy. High-risk. I exhaled slowly. There was a flicker of something, hesitation, maybe, but it passed just as quickly.

“No.”

Her expression shifted, just slightly. I stood, paid for both drinks without looking back, and left. It was the right decision. Logically. Even if something about it didn’t sit entirely clean.

---

My advisor called before I reached the lab. She doesn’t call unless it matters. So I turned around. Her office was lined with files, stacked in controlled disorder. The faint smell of paper and ink lingered in the air.

“Cole, sit.” I did.

“Cole, you do know your application to Aethera is in the final stage right?”

I nodded.

“I came across a photo recently.”

She turned her phone toward me. The same image. Still circulating.

“Cole, you realize they have strong policies against these kinds of scandals. You have to fix this, if you do not want your application rejected and your hard work going down the drain.”

That shifted things. This wasn’t just noise anymore. It was risk. Direct, measurable risk.

---

I ended up at the café I usually used when I needed a public system. I had barely set up when…

“Hi.”

I looked up. Riley. Again. How…

“No.”

I packed up immediately and left. Next location. Library. Less ideal. Still workable. Two minutes. That’s how long it took her to find me again.

“Seriously, hear me out, please.”

“Go away.”

My patience was thinning faster than I liked. She followed again. Everywhere I went. First avoidance, now persistence. No clear pattern. Unstable variables are the hardest to manage. By the time I got home, the day had produced nothing useful.

---

Tyler was already heading out.

“Somebody looks grumpy,” he said, amused. And then it clicked. Of course. He laughed when I glared at him, immune to my coldness.

No denial.

“You should have given her a listening ear at least,” he added, this time more serious.

“Who says I didn’t?”

“It’s just one lunch.”

“It’s inefficient.”

“To you, isn’t everything?”

He moved toward the door, then paused.

“There’s nothing to lose really. Plus you’ve got that situation blowing up. If you’re publicly seen with her, it helps shut down the narrative and gives you some control back.”

That was… annoyingly reasonable.

“If you think she’s so pretty and hot, why not date her yourself?”

“I’m not the one with a situation that puts my career at risk.”

He grinned again, unable to stay serious for long. Then he left.

---

I spent the night running through alternatives. Every possible route. None were efficient. None were fast. None gave me control over how this played out. This did. Barely.

When Riley called again, I answered. And agreed to meet. I stared at my phone after the call ended. I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this.