It's just acting

Lila’s POV

The bathroom mirror fogged slightly from the running sink as I washed my hands between classes. 

Cold water stung my fingers, but it did nothing to cool the low hum under my skin that had been there since the lamppost last night. 

Every time I blinked, I felt Jax’s mouth on mine again — slow, deliberate, too convincing for something that was supposed to stay pretend.

Get it together. It’s just acting.

I dried my hands and pushed the door open, stepping back into the busy hallway. The noise hit me first: lockers slamming, laughter bouncing off the walls, footsteps rushing in every direction. 

I kept my head down, weaving toward my next class, when a pair of designer boots planted themselves directly in my path.

I stopped short, nearly colliding with a cloud of vanilla perfume and perfect curls.

Sienna Vale — queen bee of the senior class, head of the cheer squad, and the girl who usually orbited Jax like she owned the spotlight. 

Her glossy lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Two of her friends flanked her like bodyguards, arms crossed, phones out but not really looking at the screens.

“Lila,” Sienna drawled, voice sugar-sweet and sharp at the edges. “Funny running into you here. Or maybe not so funny anymore.”

My stomach tightened. I adjusted my bag strap, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I need to get to class.”

She didn’t move. Instead she tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. “Word travels fast around here. Especially when the hockey captain suddenly decides to play house with the girl who used to be invisible.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I hated how easily my body betrayed me. Around us, a few students slowed their steps, pretending not to eavesdrop while clearly hanging on every word.

Sienna stepped closer, her voice dropping to something almost intimate. “Look, I’m going to do you a favor because I almost feel bad for you. Jax doesn’t do relationships. He does distractions. And right now? You’re the shiny new distraction.”

I swallowed, the taste of metal on my tongue. “That’s not really your business.”

Her laugh was light, but it carried an edge. “Oh, honey. Everything about Jax is my business. I’ve watched him cycle through girls who actually belong in his world. Girls who can keep up with the parties, the games, the attention. You?” She gestured at me with one manicured hand — my plain sweater, my glasses, the practical boots dusted with yesterday’s snow. “You’re cute in a quiet way, but this little act won’t last. He’ll get bored. He always does. And when he drops you, the same people who are suddenly smiling at you today will go right back to making your life hell. Maybe worse.”

The words landed like tiny needles. I wanted to snap back, to tell her she didn’t know anything about us — about the old friendship, about the way his hand had felt steady on my back, about the kiss that still made my pulse race. 

But the hallway noise pressed in, and doubt crept higher, whispering that she might be right.

Sienna leaned in even closer, her perfume wrapping around me. “Do yourself a favor. End it before he does. Walk away while you still have some dignity left. Because when Jax is done playing hero, he won’t look back. And you’ll be the one picking up the pieces alone.”

Her friends smirked behind her. One of them whispered something that made the other giggle.

I stood straighter, forcing my voice to stay even. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she’d expected tears or stammering. When I didn’t give her either, she stepped aside with exaggerated grace. “Your funeral, nerd.”

I walked past them without another word, shoulders tight, heart hammering against my ribs. The rest of the hallway felt longer, every glance heavier. 

By the time I reached my classroom, my hands were shaking slightly as I slid into my seat.

The teacher started talking, but my mind stayed stuck on Sienna’s words. Distraction. He always does. Picking up the pieces alone. They mixed with the memory of Jax’s thumb tracing slow circles on my skin, the way he’d looked at me under the lamppost like the snow and the crowd didn’t exist.

She’s wrong. This is different.

But was it? The fake dating had an expiration date built in. Protection for now. Nothing promised beyond that. And Jax… he’d already pulled away once before when popularity called. What stopped him from doing it again?

My phone buzzed quietly in my pocket. I glanced down under the desk.

Jax: Quad after this period? Snow’s letting up.

I stared at the message, thumb hovering. Part of me wanted to say yes immediately, to feel his presence chase away the doubt Sienna had planted. 

Another part — the cautious, bruised part — wanted to run back to the library and hide like I used to.

I typed back quickly before I could overthink.

Lila: Okay.

The reply came almost instantly.

Jax: Can’t stop thinking about last night.

My breath caught. Heat flooded my face again. I locked the screen and pressed the phone to my chest for a second, eyes closing.

The rest of the class passed in a haze. When the bell rang, I gathered my things slowly, nerves buzzing. The hallway outside felt different now — less hostile, but charged with new whispers. A few people nodded at me. Someone even smiled. The change was dizzying.

Jax was waiting near the quad entrance, hands in his jacket pockets, snowflakes melting in his dark hair. When he saw me, his whole face softened in a way that made my stomach flip.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just reached out and took my hand, lacing our fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Warmth spread up my arm, chasing away the lingering chill from Sienna’s warning.

“Rough morning?” he asked, voice low as we started walking toward our usual bench.

I hesitated, then decided on partial truth. “Ran into someone who had opinions about us.”

His grip tightened slightly. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I looked up at him, searching his face. The blue eyes that used to make me feel safe now carried layers I couldn’t fully read. “Just… reminding me this might not end well.”

Jax stopped walking, turning to face me fully. Students moved around us, but he didn’t seem to care. His free hand came up, brushing a stray hair from my forehead with gentle fingers. The touch was soft, almost tender.

“It ends when we say it ends,” he murmured. “Not when someone else decides.”

The words should have reassured me. Instead they tangled with Sienna’s prediction, creating a knot in my chest that pulled tighter.

We reached the bench. Snow had mostly melted, leaving the wood damp. We sat close, knees touching, his thumb still drawing those slow patterns on the back of my hand.

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to lean into the warmth and pretend the queen bee’s warning was just jealous noise.

But deep down, a small voice kept whispering: What if she’s right? What if I’m already too deep, and the fall is coming faster than I can brace for?

Jax leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my temple. “Whatever they said, ignore it. I’ve got you.”

I nodded, but inside my thoughts spun faster.

This fake love was supposed to protect me.

So why did it suddenly feel like the most dangerous thing I’d ever let in?