Page 41 of Play Fake
But I push it down, turning back to the next set of notes. Because this is what I came here to do: help her. Nothing else.
And if it makes her life a little easier, then it’s worth every second.
14
SOPHIE
The last thing I expect after a five-mile run and a rushed shower on a Monday morning is to see my parents waiting for me in the middle of the quad.
But there they are.
Bill and Trisha Prescott.
My mom is polished within an inch of her life in a blazer and pearls that screamboard meeting,not campus visit.And my dad, arms crossed, has his jaw set like he’s about to interrogate a suspect instead of his daughter.
I stop dead in my tracks, gym bag sliding off my shoulder. “What—what are you doing here?”
“We needed to talk,” Mom says smoothly, already stepping closer. “And since you’ve been so hard to pin down, we thought we’d surprise you.”
Every muscle in my body tightens. Claire warned me this would happen, and I know that tone. I know what’s coming before my dad even opens his mouth.
“It’s about Zach.”
The name hits like a punch.
I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not having this or any conversation about him.”
“Sophie—”
“He cheated on me,” I snap, louder than I mean to. A couple of students glance our way, curious. My face burns. “Publicly. Multiple times. I refuse to let anyone disrespect me that way and won’t be marrying someone just because of how you think his last name looks next to mine on paper. End of story.”
Mom’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes are sharp. “End of story foryou, maybe. But you can’t just walk away from what his family brings to the table. Do you know how many people would kill for those connections?”
My chest squeezes tight, heartbeat pounding in my ears. I want to scream, to run, but the words tumble out before I can stop them.
“I don’t care about his family. I don’t care about appearances. I’m not going back.”
“Then what?” Dad demands, his voice low but cutting. “You’re just going to throw everything away? Be alone?”
And that’s when I panic.
“I’m not alone,” I blurt, pulse racing. “I’m…I’m seeing someone.”
The silence between us is sharp enough to cut glass. My mom tilts her head, lips curling. “Please. I know a lie when I see one, especially coming from you.”
My throat goes dry. My mind blanks—until I see him.
Beck. Crossing the quad like he owns it, backpack slung over one shoulder, sure as always.
And in that instant, the lie forms so easily it almost feels true.
“Actually, there he is.” I say, nodding my head in his direction. “We have class together, and he plays for the football team.”
Mom’s eyes sharpen as she follows my gaze. “That’syour boyfriend?”
“Yes.” The word leaves my mouth before I can think twice. “That’s Beck. My boyfriend.”
Her brows lift, unimpressed. “Funny, I haven’t heard a word about him. If it’s serious, shouldn’t you have told us sooner?”
