"Prom queen...?" Astrid assesses with a slow nod which is then followed by a furrow of her brow. "I mean, you'll probably get it, so...what?"

It's summer - the last day of it, too, and simultaneously my only opportunity to get my friends on board with my incredible idea. We sit in the booth of a well-known restaurant. I glance at the boy across from me, his borderline navy eyes glinting with intrigue in the low light. He, Truth, is my target. Beside him is Hudson, and he seems just as confused as Astrid.

"I mean of course I will, but not without a full-proof plan." I stab at my food, admiring the soft jazz playing, biting the smile at my lips away. "I assume you're wondering what I have in this folder; it's a contract." A manila folder has sat on the table for the duration of the dinner, gathering curiosity with its presence. I look at all three of them, trying to gauge their reactions. Nothing. Nothing yet.

"Contract?" Astrid first. Doable.

"What?" Truth. Hm. He doesn't sound enthused.

"Cut the mysterious bullshit and get to the point, Freya," Hudson says with an exasperated sigh. An expected reaction.

Truth looks over at Hudson. "She's invited us to one of the most expensive restaurants in town - I'm sure it's not without reason."

Hudson scoffs. "Her dad's expensive restaurant."

"I know, but-"

"No, he's right. That's an important detail," Astrid adds with a nod of her head, her dark blue hair curtaining her eyes from me. "And we can all afford it anyways."

I take in a deep breath, looking away to crush my anger. I need to be nice for this proposal, after all. I slide my manila folder forward until it hits the tips of Truth's fingers, effectively stopping the baseless discussion as their attention is redirected there. "Yes, a contract. To win prom queen, I need fame, popularity, likability, et cetera. Aside from our fame, I need to connect with the student body." I look at them and smile. I have to put on a show.

"Okay?" Astrid finishes her plate. "Open it, Truth."

He opens the folder and unveils my lovely little plan. Operation: Prom is typed in bold, followed by The PR Relationship Plan. Truth lets out a breathy laugh, barely going through the rules listed within the document as he scans to the bottom to see where he is to sign.

I watch his eyes scour the table for something, which is filled with nothing but plates, utensils, and our drinks.

Our waitress seemingly sneaks over to place the check down, as if unwilling to disturb the peace, but based on Hudson's pointed brows, I've already achieved that. I place my card down with a bit of hesitation, but not about paying. Hudson is capable of ruining the balance of the whole friend group. I didn't consider that thoroughly.

"'Public displays of affection required,'" Hudson reads aloud. He steals the page from Truth and twists his face in pure dismay. "Freya, this is ridiculous."

"Why Truth? Why not Hudson?" Astrid asks.

I withhold my chuckle and glance at Truth who, expectedly, is still looking for something. If I'm not mistaken, that something is a pen, and he is ready to sign. He was ready to sign once he saw the word 'Relationship'. Astrid knows why I chose Truth. She's just trying to challenge me.

"Oh, I figured Hudson wouldn't want the attention of prom king unless you do, Hudson?" I tilt my head, my braids swaying to my right, my eyes hiding all of the words I truly mean.

He quickly declines. "No, Freya, I don't want to date my friend. Not even for fake."

I pout, handing Truth a pen in the process. "Since you've barely read this, Truth, I'll sum it up for you. The contract states that we have to participate in relationship activities publicly. Posting each other, kissing, whatever needed. Until I win prom queen."

He wordlessly slides the paper back to me, a neat, cursive, Truth Wilder planted on the signature line. Astrid tilts the paper to her for a better look, and I smile as I've succeeded in phase one of the plan.

"Boys are so easy," I remark as Astrid hands me the document.

"Then why a contract?" Hudson counters, a brow raising. He must not like this idea.

I will admit, the idea of me dating within the friend group is weird, which is why I'm not. It's all fake. It's just for prom queen.

However, the answer to his question is so painfully simple that I can look past his overwhelming sass. "Security. Even if Truth and I fall out, the relationship remains."

"We won't be doing that," Truth responds quickly. Then, as if to clear his name, he adds, "I want you to win prom queen too."

"I'm sure you do," Astrid mumbles, a smirk on the edge of her lips.

The boys let Astrid's comment mingle in the air, a tinge of red blooming from Truth's ears. It's Hudson's last straw as he nudges Truth to let him out of the booth, leaving money on the table to tip the waiter.

His exit, and I hate to admit it, wasn't expected and is a true sign of his anger. I know why he's angry. I even understand it, but that won't stop my plan, nor will it erase Truth's signature. In fact, Truth's eagerness is part of the problem.

With the space created on Truth's side of the booth, a new air of awkwardness replaces it.

"I'll...try to talk to him. See you guys later," Astrid says, leaving her share for the tip as she exits.

I looked over to Truth who was seemingly already taking me in. He has always been one to stare, but tonight, there is something so mischievous in his eyes. Too mischievous. He just smiles and stands, placing money down for the tip.

But instead of leaving, he extends his hand to me and I take it gingerly. With this, it's already decided that he'll be taking me home.

"I have an idea to start senior year," I mutter as we exit the restaurant.

Outside, I immediately identify the scent of petrichor. Above us is a midnight blue sky and sparkling stars, but before me is the glisten of wet asphalt and dewy air.

"Oh?" he whispers, leading me to his car.

I nod and take his hand, snapping an ambiguous picture of our hands interlocked, the wet ground twinkling in the background. I show him and await his response, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. I post it on my story with a heart emoji.

He chuckles and shakes his head, opening the car door for me. When he sits in the driver seat he turns to face me. "Are you not confident that the crown is already yours?" His tone is soft and sincere. Almost fragile.

I ponder my response for a second, reminding myself that the calm personality displayed in the restaurant is no longer required. I got what I wanted - his signature. However, that doesn't change the content of my reply, just the tone of it.

"I think the beloved Mira might eye it too." The sarcasm that escapes my lips only feels right. It's freeing.

He nods and looks away, starting the car. "You have a plan for that, don't you?" I can't help but think he doesn't seem as excited as I am.

"Considering I've designated her as an enemy, yes. I have contingency plans for a lot of scenarios, Truth."

"Even Hudson?"

I cross my arms. No, not Hudson. How could I have anticipated an angry Hudson? I know he's mainly interested in looking good at prom, not prom king. Besides, he would never agree to any romantic exchange with me of all people, especially not for prom.

"Unfortunately, the idea of Hudson being this upset went completely over my head," I bitterly reply, looking out the window. "I mean, what's he so upset about anyways?"

"I have a few ideas."

I look at him from the corner of my eye, pissed at his weirdly ambiguous response. I might be confused, but I'm not taking Hudson's feelings lightly. He's my friend and school starts tomorrow, so how could I?

"What ideas?"

"Boy ideas."

"That doesn't apply to this situation - we're all friends. This affects all of us."

"You'd be surprised how it might, Freya. Those contingency plans might need tweaking if you disagree."

Before I can even reply, we pull up to my house, and the sight of my living room lights being on startles me. Both my parents like to go to bed pretty early, for the most part. It's only 9 PM, and I can tell they're both pretty active.

I sigh and shake my head. "I know what I'm doing, Truth."

"I'm not doubting you," he assures. "I just...I want you happy, and I know you're already frustrated with Hudson. Everything will be fine, I'll handle that. You...get some sleep. Goodnight."

He offers me a cute smile, but I fear for the rest of the school year. With the blossoming of new beginnings comes the haunting of potential madness. Granted, a bit dramatic, but regardless, realistic. The idea of our friendship mocking something more is dangerous, given how Truth is. A boyish smile can turn into something devilish if you look too long.

"Goodnight."

-

I shuffle in my sleep, my eyes jutting open at sounds I can't quite identify. Then, I hear it. The whiny slur of her speech, the staggering, heavy thuds of her steps, the struggle to get up the stairs. Then a loud thump, merely muted by me pressing the pillow to my ears, my eyes lining with tears at the rim. I want nothing more than to sleep.

After a moment of silence, my father exits their bedroom to acknowledge the commotion, and with all of my sleepy strength, I press the pillow onto my ear even harder, my brows furrowing as I attempt to sleep again.

My mother, Jackie Hilton, is a renowned model and gold-digger, but she moonlights as an alcoholic. Soon, the tabloids will catch on, but until then, she will have her drinks. My father, Marcus Hilton, is a famous chef with multiple food chains and Michelin Stars, as well as a few cooking shows under his name.

As soon as I begin drifting off to sleep, a bark startles me.

I sit up at that, knowing exactly what has been done. I don't know how at this hour of the night, but my mom has bought a dog. Frustrated, I turn over in my bed to reach my phone, finally checking the notifications from my story and my friends.

For one, the soft launch was well-received and my story has reached a new peak of viewers. That could prove to be troublesome, considering my real launch is to be tomorrow when Truth and I walk the halls together. So many opinions have already been formed, and I can't help but feel some unease at that.

Nonetheless, Truth sent a message when he got home. People have already suspected the hand I hold to be him, but there are also other guesses of the mystery hand, which I find a bit laughable. They'll find out in due time, and then the real fun begins.