Call It a Favour (HIATUS)

02. The Contract

02. The Contract

"I didn't even know people had fake relationships," Georgie said from the couch.

She had her feet kicked up on the coffee table and a bowl of cereal resting on her chest. Her hair was in what she told me were goddess braids, a bright gold against her brown skin. She tossed her hair over the edge of the couch and leaned back, slurping her cereal from a spoon.

I was probably supposed to keep the whole fake-relationship thing a secret, but how could I hide something like this from Georgie? She'd be too suspicious anyway.

Not everyone knew I disliked Corey Bishop, but Georgie knew. In fact, she hated him too. She never explicitly gave her reasons, but I had a feeling it was only because I hated him. She was a good friend like that.

"Me neither," I replied, stepping into the living room. "You're going to choke like that."

She ignored me, taking another big bite of cereal before adding, "Why do you guys have to meet up so early?"

It was only seven in the morning, but that was considered early for her. My calculus classes ran at eight every morning, so I was used to it.

"Their practice session starts in an hour," I explained. "We need to meet up before anyone sees us. You know, lay out the ground rules."

"What, like no sex?"

"Georgie!"

"What's the point of a boyfriend then?"

"It's a fake boyfriend," I reminded her. "And stop being so shallow!"

"I'm just saying! Fake, schmake. It should still come with the benefits," she said. "And, I mean, have you seen that man?"

She had a point. For all of his terrible personality, he made up for it in unbearable attractiveness. It was probably a rule; to play rugby you must look like a model in your spare time.

He was tall and muscular, like Dylan was, but God, his face. His hair. His broad-shoulderness. Was I drooling?

Dylan had never voiced it in our relationship, but I had a feeling he thought he was out of my league.

It was the little things. Him asking me to wear my hair down. Him asking me to not talk about exams around his friends.

Maybe that was why he dumped me—he thought he was too out of my league.

He was probably right. Especially in high school, when I was more preoccupied with acing physics than my appearance.

I couldn't wait for him to see me and Corey together.

"I've seen him," I said, rolling my eyes. "And I've heard him. Too much of him."

"Well, get ready to hear some more," she said, her mouth full of cereal. "You're going to be late. Is that what you're wearing?"

I looked down at my sweatpants and tank top. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It's just not exactly what you used to wear to Dylan's practices."

"I only ever dressed nice for his practice because he didn't like me wearing trackies," I said, gathering my phone and keys. "Besides, I was dumped and I'm repeating Physics 1A. 1A. I'm grieving. Let me grieve."

"Okay," Georgie said. "Just remember, Dylan might see you two together for the first time today."

I groaned. She gave me a pointed look.

With my free hand, I took my ponytail out and mussed my hair up a bit. There. That should be good enough. Hopefully, if we did bump into him, he'd be busy gaping at Corey rather than me.