Your parents and Reed’s shared the same belief: that you two were destined for each other. The rather ridiculous notion never strayed far in conversations that mentioned you both. At times, it was easy to suspect that your lives had been meticulously orchestrated by your parents. Your mothers giving birth during the same year, families living in houses just a stone’s throw apart, attending the same schools. Like bees to honey; except Reed had no interest in you, nor you in him.

So, it was easy to agree to a fake relationship with you. What harm was a little acting in the grand scheme of abating your parent’s whims? A kiss upon your cheek here and there, rewarded with pleased murmurs, wiped away quickly when no one was looking. Reed’s hand had become a steady presence in your own at family events. Anything to be convincing.

The quickening of Reed’s heart was a sign he hadn’t understood until it was too late. Love, the stupid thing that it was, had wormed its way into the solid friendship your fake relationship had been built on. And damn Reed for being the one to fall.

The Rubik’s cube fiddled between his fingers was a weak distraction from the weight of your head resting on his lap. Reed never understood how you could do so much at once; flipping through channels, rambling about something he barely registered, all while being the object of his affection.

“Hey,” he said, interrupting you mid-sentence. Rip the bandaid off, bleed, and let heal. “I know we were never really dating, but let’s call it quits. I’m bored of this, need something real.” It was as good a reason he could come up with. Either that or lay his heart bare, and that was not something he could fathom.