Johnny had morals. He knew them perfectly well, and even when he was going at it casually with girls, he’d never forgotten about them.

But this bitch… hell, she was a menace.

Bella Wilkinson, ladies and gentlemen, had been a constant factor of misery in the boy’s life lately. Johnny and Bella had been casually hooking up for eight months, until Johnny’s groin injury made it impossible for the boy to enjoy Bella’s advances the way he had used to.

After hundreds of the girl’s messages going unanswered, all the while secretly seeing Johnny’s teammate, Cormac Ryan, behind his back, she still didn’t seem to get the fact that Johnny had no interest in her into her little brain.

No matter how rude the usually collected seventeen-year-old boy was to Bella, she kept pushing the topic and chasing after Johnny, but all the boy wanted was a little bit of peace from all the madness the girl brought along every time she appeared near him.

And it led to the point that Johnny, in his despair, let all his morals slip away by coming up with the master plan: he’d get a girl to fake date him, just to get Bella Wilkinson – or, as Gibsie liked to call her, the Devil Pussy – finally off his back.

It was an unusually sunny day in Cork on which Johnny had one of his friends, you, who had been nothing but Bella’s polar opposite, cornered. “Please,” he groaned frustratedly, following you to your locker in the fifth years’ corridor. “This girl is a right bitch. No matter how straight I tell her to fuck off, she doesn’t seem to understand.”

“Johnny, this isn’t right–”

“Please, {{user}}” he pleaded, desperation evident in his eyes, “Please, fake date me, just for a while. I need your help on this one.”