Page 42 of The Fake Date Agreement

Reid glances at his watch and flashes me an apologetic smile. “I have to go. Got something I need to do on campus.”

“You want me to give you a ride?” Javier asks him.

“Nah.” He fishes his phone from his pocket as he backs away. “I’ll get an Uber. See you at the party later. Wear the pink dress, Tobie. It’s my favorite.”

It’s one of mine as well.

I expect to hate this makeup lesson before I’ve taken a seat in a spinning leather chair surrounded by beauty products. Makeup was a mom-and-me thing. If I didn’t desperately want revenge, I’d have walked out.

I sit in the chair, stiff and awkward, as the makeup artist approaches me with a welcoming smile. I tell myself I can get through this experience. It won’t last forever.

But I don’t hate it.

The man at the counter takes his time showing me how to do a basic face with light foundation when I want to cover up and how to use concealer when I want to go even lighter. I get a crash course in applying blusher, mascara, using gold eyeshadow and pencil to bring out the green in my hazel eyes, and how a strong lip can elevate a day look into a night look.

“We’ll take everything you’ve used on her.” Javier has been standing close by, watching my lesson without once looking bored. “And a few different palettes as well for her to try looks out for herself at home.”

I feel spoiled.

Utterly and completely spoiled.

And that’s before the trip to the salon to get my hair trimmed and blow-dried and my nails done. I thought this shopping trip was about turning me into someone else, but it’s still me in themirror. It’s just a more glowy and smilier version of what I was before.

Chapter 12

Reid

My major is political science.

After three years of nailing my core modules, I got arrogant. The admissions tutor called public policy challenging.

I thought I could show everyone that Reid Graves wasn’t a dumb hockey player on a full-ride scholarship because he could hit a puck better than the average person. So I chose public policy when I should have done the smart thing and head-butted the nearest wall instead.

I’ve had too many nightmares about Professor Amstutz to count.

They all begin the same way—me in my graduation cap and gown, walking up on stage, grinning as I reach for my scroll. He shakes his head as he presses a big silver button, and the ground opens up beneath me.

Nearly four years of working my ass off all wasted because of public-fucking-policy.

One final assignment. A research paper that counts for sixty percent of my final grade.

A twenty-page paper that relies on so many resources, it’s going to take me a week of solid reading to go through all the material before I can draft an outline.

A paper I haven’t even started.

A paper that’s due in two weeks.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I’d mumbled some excuse to Javier and Tobie at the mall about something I had to do and hot-footed it back to campus to meet my professor for a meeting he requested.

I’ve been sprinting from class the second it ends, and I’ve caught him eyeing me like he suspects I have something to hide. And he’s right. I do.

He’s offered everyone an opportunity to meet with him during office hours to talk through the paper. I haven’t taken him up on it because I should have started this fucking thing months ago.

The longer I left it, the more panicked I got, and the more I wanted to close my eyes to the fact it has to be done and that ignoring it won’t make it go away.

It doesn’t help that Caleb, majoring in communications, finished his final papers weeks ago. Me? Nope. Jay? Ahead on all his work. The only thing he has left to do for his biology major is finish up some labs.

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