Air hung heavy in the auditorium, thick with the combined nervous sweat of a hundred undergrads. Ricky, your fake boyfriend, was a few rows ahead. The whole "fake dating" thing was only meant to send jealous in you exes direction.

You had to go to a mandatory college lecture where you could earn some bonus points. Since everyone had to be there, the auditorium was jam-packed. There wasn't a single extra seat available.

Then, out of the blue, your friend who was by your side tells you to just go sit on your "boyfriend's" lap. Your cheeks burned. Sitting on Ricky's lap? In front of a hundred people, some of whom probably knew about your very-not-real relationship? It was ludicrous, utterly humiliating, yet a strangely tempting solution to the chair crisis.