The Contract

003

Mira didn't sleep.

She lay in her dorm room, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Sebastian had said. You're not replaceable. You're terrifying. He broke your armor. The worst part was how seen she felt. How exposed.

At 6am, she gave up on rest and opened her laptop. The campus gossip page was still dissecting her breakdown. Someone had commented: "Finally, proof she's human." Someone else: "Kessler was there too. Saw them talking after she left Ethan's. What's that about?"

Mira closed the laptop.

She spent the morning editing debate briefs. The words blurred. Her mind kept drifting to his gray eyes and sharp smile, and the way his hand had felt wrapped around hers. No real feelings. She had said that. She had meant it.

So why was she already counting hours until midnight?

***

The library at midnight was a different world.

Fluorescent lights hummed. The air smelled of old paper and desperation. Mira arrived at 11:47 because she was incapable of being late. She wore black jeans and a sweater, deliberately casual. She had considered armor (blazer, heels, the full ice queen uniform) and decided against it. This was a negotiation. She needed him to underestimate her.

Study room 3B was glass-walled and cold. She sat at the table, pulled out a notebook, and wrote:

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

1. Public appearances only. No alone time outside of planning.

2. No kissing unless necessary for the performance.

3. No real feelings.

4. No asking about the scandal.

5. Ends after scholarship decision.

She stared at rule four. No asking about the scandal. She wanted to know. Desperately. But asking meant caring, and caring meant vulnerability, and vulnerability was the one thing she couldn't afford.

The door opened at 11:58.

Sebastian walked in carrying two coffees and a worn leather folder. He had changed into a dark sweater that somehow made his shoulders look broader. His hair was still messy. He looked like he hadn't slept either.

"You're early," he said.

"You're late."

"I'm exactly two minutes early." He set one coffee in front of her. Black, no sugar. Her order. She hadn't told him. "Drink. You look like you've been staring at a wall for eighteen hours."

Mira wrapped her hands around the cup. The warmth seeped into her fingers. "How did you know how I take my coffee?"

"I pay attention." He sat across from her, close enough that their knees almost touched under the small table. "Nationals, freshman year. You ordered coffee between rounds. Black, no sugar. You said sugar makes you sloppy."

Mira had forgotten that. She had forgotten he was even there.

"You were watching me freshman year?"

"Everyone was watching you. You won." He shrugged, but something flickered across his face. "Also, you stepped on my foot in the hallway and didn't apologize. I decided to memorize your coffee order so I could hold it against you someday."

"That's unhinged."

"That's strategy." He pulled out a pen. "Show me your rules."

Mira slid the notebook across the table. Sebastian read silently. His expression didn't change until rule four.

"No asking about the scandal," he read out loud. His voice was flat. "That's convenient for you."

"It's convenient for both of us. I don't want to know your secrets. Secrets mean intimacy. Intimacy means feelings." She paused. "And I don't want you asking about my family."

He looked up. "Deal."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." He wrote something on his own paper. "I have additions."

He slid the notebook back. Below her rules, in messy handwriting:

6. No falling asleep in the same location.

7. No telling anyone it's fake.

8. If either person develops feelings, they must admit it immediately so the arrangement can end cleanly.

Mira's chest tightened at rule eight. Admit it immediately. As if feelings were a court filing. As if you could just say them.

"Agreed," she said. "But I want to add a ninth."

"Go ahead."

She wrote: 9. This is a transaction. Nothing more.

Sebastian stared at the words for a long moment. Then he signed his name at the bottom of the page. Sebastian Kessler. His handwriting was messy.

Mira signed beneath him. Mira Chen. Neat and Perfect.

They sat in silence. The coffee was cooling. The fluorescent lights buzzed.

"So," Sebastian said. "First public appearance. Tomorrow. Coffee shop at 9am. Ethan and Jenna have a routine... they sit in the corner booth, share a muffin, pretend they're happy. We walk in together. I put my arm around you. You smile like you're imagining my death."

"That's your strategy? Make them jealous?"

"Jealousy is the first step. Next step: they start fighting. Third step: Jenna realizes Ethan is garbage. Fourth step: Ethan tries to win you back. Fifth step: you enjoy watching him fail." He leaned back. "It's a five-step plan. Very organized."

Mira almost smiled. Almost. "You've thought about this a lot."

"I've thought about ruining Ethan Wright since he spread that rumor about me last year." Sebastian's jaw tightened. "He told everyone I sabotaged the team because I was jealous of your success. He didn't even know the truth. He just wanted to see me suffer."

"He's good at that."

"He's a cockroach in human form." Sebastian met her eyes. "Which is why we're going to make him watch while you move on to someone who doesn't need to tear you down to feel tall."

The way he said it—someone who doesn't need to tear you down—made Mira's stomach flip. She looked away.

"We need a backstory," she said. "How did we start dating? People will ask."

Sebastian thought for a moment. "We say we've been secretly hooking up for months. That's why we're so competitive on stage, tension from the night before."

"That's disgusting."

"It's believable." He grinned. "No one will question it. We argue like an old married couple anyway."

"We argue because you're infuriating."

"And you're obsessed with winning." He leaned forward. His knee brushed hers under the table. Neither of them moved. "See? Chemistry. We're naturals."

Mira's skin was burning again. She pulled back, stood up, gathered her notebook. "9am. Coffee shop. Don't be late."

"I'm never late."

"You were almost late tonight."

"I was exactly two minutes early." He stood too, suddenly close. The study room was small. He was taller than her by six inches. She had to tilt her chin up to hold his gaze. "One more thing, Chen."

"What?"

"Ethan's going to confront us. Probably tomorrow. He's going to call you names. Say you moved on too fast. Say I'm using you." Sebastian's voice dropped. "When he does, I need you to let me handle it. Don't defend yourself. Don't argue. Just stand there and let me be the bad guy."

"Why?"

"Because you've spent your whole life fighting everyone's battles alone. And I'm offering to fight this one for you." He held her gaze. "That's what this is. A transaction, sure. But also, temporarily, someone in your corner."

Mira's throat closed. She wanted to say something cutting, to put distance between them. But the words wouldn't come.

Instead, she whispered, "9am."

Then she walked out of the study room, down the library stairs, into the freezing night.

Her coffee was still warm in her hands.

She hadn't meant to take it with her.