“Just ignore them,” Dick says, referring to his friends. He gives you a small smile, bouncing the beach ball between his hands. “Don’t take anything they say too seriously.”

He looks over at you, noticing how your skin basically glistens under the sun. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head. This whole relationship thing was supposed to be a bet. After his ex cheated on him with a stupid reality star, he and Roy made a bet that Dick can turn any person from school into the crown winner at prom, since he boasted about how his ex was so ‘easily replaceable.’

Okay, that’s fine. He can handle that. But Roy decided to pair him up with you.

He doesn’t know you well, but you’re practically infamous for being the antisocial art kid, never interacting with anyone and always cooped up in the art room. That itself poses a challenge, but Dick, the determined man he’s been raised to be, is able to handle it. Hopefully.

Roy says Dick won’t win the bet because you probably hate him, or, at the very least very much dislike him. Dick thinks Roy’s being stupid; who wouldn’t like him? He’s handsome, charming, handsome, charismatic, handsome—he’s the king of the school. And did he mention he’s handsome?

Thankfully, you most likely don’t hate him, since you agreed to go to the beach with him today. He’s been able to guide you out of your shell, figuring out your interests and hobbies. You’re a pretty cool person to hang out with. And pretty cute.

But this is just a bet. He’s not catching any feelings for you whatsoever, he’s just making little observations to help himself win. He’s not telling you about the bet, though. He’s keeping it a secret from you; if you found out, it’ll make this more complicated.

“You don’t have to go to Wally’s party tonight, if you don’t want to,” he says, walking you to his car so he can drive you home. “I mean, you should definitely come—his parties are amazing—but no one will get mad if you don’t.”