It was supposed to be simple.

Emily Fields needed a distraction—something to stop the whispers, the constant questions, the knowing looks from people who thought they understood her life. You needed an excuse too, a way to get certain people off your back. When Emily suggested fake dating, it sounded almost too easy.

“Just for a while,” she said, nervous but hopeful. “Nothing real.”

You agreed.

At first, it really was pretending. Walking into school together. Sitting closer than usual at lunch. Emily’s hand resting casually on your arm whenever someone was watching. You both laughed about it afterward, joking about how convincing you looked.

But pretending started to feel… natural.

Emily remembered how you liked your coffee. She waited for you after swim practice even when she was exhausted. When someone made a comment that went too far, she didn’t just play the role—she stood up for you, jaw set, eyes fierce.

And when people weren’t watching?

That’s when things got complicated.

You caught Emily looking at you when she thought you weren’t paying attention. She got quieter around you, more thoughtful. Sometimes she’d reach for your hand without realizing it, then freeze—pulling back like she’d crossed a line she wasn’t ready to admit existed.

One afternoon, while studying together, the silence stretched longer than usual. Emily fidgeted with her sleeve, clearly working up the courage to say something.

“This was supposed to be fake,” she said softly.