Chapter 5 Latte

MIA

The hallway parted like the Red Sea when I walked through the next morning and I knew it wasn't because I was scary but It was because I was dating Caleb Kessler now, and everyone had an opinion about it. The girls who had never looked at me twice were whispering behind me, and the guys who had never noticed me were suddenly staring at my chest like I'd grown a second head.

Then Brianna stepped out from nowhere. She is the Cheerleader, she has the perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect sneer, and three of her friends flanking her like bodyguards who'd been waiting for this moment all week.

"So it's true," she said. "You're really dating him."

"That's what the internet says," I said.

"The internet says a lot of things. Like how you're only doing it for money.

I smiled, and I made sure it wasn't a nice smile. "Then the internet is right."

She blinked. She hadn't expected honesty. Her friends exchanged glances, and one of them tried to act like one of her minion.

"You're not even going to deny it?" Brianna asked.

"No. I need the money and He needs a girlfriend. We're helping each other." I leaned in a little closer, like I was telling her a secret. "Why do you care, Brianna? You had your chance with him but He picked me."

Her face twisted, the mask cracking just enough for me to see the anger underneath. "He's not picking you but he's paying you. There's a difference."

"Is there?" I held her gaze for a second too long, then stepped around her and kept walking.

Chloe feels so proud, she said I gave her a taste of her medicine. her footsteps quick to match mine. "That was cold," she said.

"She started it."

"She's going to make your life hell."

"She already has. I've been handling her since freshman year." I opened my locker, and the combination stuck for a second before it finally turned. "Nothing new."

Chloe leaned against the locker next to mine, arms crossed. "So what's the plan for today? More fake dating?"

"Coffee after school. Some place with good lighting for photos."

"Romantic."

"It's a transaction, Chloe. Not a date."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Tell that to your face."

"What about my face?"

"You're blushing."

I wasn't blushing. The hallway was crowded and hot, that was all. Too many people packed into too small a space.

The coffee shop that afternoon was one of those places with exposed brick and fairy lights, the kind of place where people went to be seen on Instagram. There was a line out the door, every table full.

Caleb was already there when I walked in. He is sitting in a corner booth with two drinks on the table. He stood up when he saw me, because his agent had probably told him to, and I slid into the booth across from him.

"You're early," I said.

"You're on time for once."

"Don't get used to it."

He pushed a cup toward me. "Vanilla latte, extra shot. You look tired."

"You look like you haven't slept," I said.

"Touché."

A girl at the next table was openly taking photos of us with her phone, not even trying to hide it. I pretended not to notice.

"Your dad," I said. "Today at three. What's his angle?"

Caleb stirred his coffee with a little spoon, watching it swirl but not drinking it. "He wants to scare you, See if you'll crack."

"Will I?"

"You didn't crack at dinner."

"That's because I don't care what he thinks of me."

"You should. He can destroy you." He said it flat, as matter-of-fact, like he was telling me the weather. "He has lawyers, money and people who owe him favors. He's not bluffing."

I took a sip of my latte. It was good. He'd remembered how I liked it, and that bothered me more than it should have. "Then I won't give him a reason to destroy me."

Caleb's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, and his face looked like he is pissed off.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." He put the phone face down. "My dad. He is Confirming for today."

"Are you coming with me?"

"I offered. You said no."

"Because I need to prove I'm not scared of him."

"Are you?"

I thought about Richard Kessler in his expensive suit, his cold eyes and his thumb tapping the wine glass over and over. A man who treated people like chess pieces, and probably hadn't been told no in twenty years.

"Terrified," I said. "But he doesn't need to know that."

Caleb smiled. "You're something else, Mia."

"So I've been told."

The girl from the next table approached us with her phone in her hand and a nervous smile on her face. "Sorry to interrupt," she said. "Can I get a photo? I'm a huge fan, Caleb."

He looked at me, and I nodded. This was what we were supposed to do. This was the job.

She held up her phone, and Caleb put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him and smiled like I meant it.

The camera flashed.

"Thanks!" she said. "You guys are so cute together."

She walked away, and Caleb's arm stayed around me for a beat too long. His fingers were warm on my shoulder.

"You can let go now," I said.

"I know," he said.

But he didn't.

And I didn't tell him to again.