"So how do you want to do this?" Henley said, holding the door of the mall open for Lissette.

"What?" Lissette said, walking past.

"Do you want me to just wait in the food court while you get your dress? Or... do you want me to come with you to the store?"

Lissette's face scrunched up. "No, I absolutely do not want you to come with me to the store."

"Okay, you don't want me to. But do you think I should?"

"Boyfriends going homecoming dress shopping with their girlfriends isn't, like, a thing," Lissette said dryly.

Henley's jaw shifted and irritation sparked in his eyes. "Then I'll just wait. Text me when you're done."

Lissette nodded, beginning to turn around, when Henley blurted out, "Wait."

Furrowing her brows, Lissette faced Henley again, who had his wallet open and was pulling something out. He stuck his hand out towards Lissette, and in it, he was holding a debit card.

Lissette's mouth dropped open. "Um...?"

"You weren't even planning on going to the dance and buying a dress until I made you, so the least I can do is pay for it," Henley shrugged. He wagged the debit card, gesturing for Lissette to take it. She didn't.

"Since when do you care about 'the least you can do?'"

"Hey, I'm a nice person." Pfft.

"I have money."
"I never said you didn't. Just take it," Henley insisted. He swallowed. "Please?"

Lissette faltered, before rolling her eyes and snatching the debit card out of Henley's hand. "Fine. I'm buying shoes and a clutch too though. You've been warned."
"Okay. Just don't get something ugly."

"What, you don't trust my expert fashion taste?"

"Well I do seem to recall you wearing a neon green pair of Crocs every single day of eighth grade."

"Hey," Lissette said sternly, her cheeks flushing a bit at the mention of her middle school misadventures, "it's a well known fact that every kid has a Crocs faze."

"I didn't have a Crocs faze," Henley said smugly.

"Okay, well then you're either an alien or a fucking liar."

"Or, hmm, I'm just better than you?" Henley smirked. "You always forget that, Lissy."
"So you are a liar then," Lissette deduced dryly, her blood boiling a little at the use of her stupid new nickname.

"Well..." Henley said slowly, his cheeks turning crimson. This shocked Lissette – a blushing Henley was an entirely new concept to her, one she had never even thought to imagine. "Maybe there were a few months in fourth grade. But that's way farther back than your own Crocs faze, which means I still win."

"Fine. You clearly know what you're talking about. The whole preppy jock look is really original, Henley," Lissette said sarcastically, eyeing his baby blue polo, creased khakis, and royal blue and cream letterman's jacket.

"Checking me out?" Henley smirked, not so subtly flexing his biceps.

Lissette scoffed. "Bye, Henley."

"See you soon, Lissy."

Lissette saluted with Henley's debit card, then spun on her heel, setting off to the mall's Windsor store. Lissette hated clothing shopping, so she wanted to make this quick, but the idea of making Henley wait forever, bored out of his mind, in the food court was extremely appealing as well.

Lissette began to sort through dresses. She was shopping pretty late in the season for a homecoming dress, so of course the amount of size S dresses were running low, leaving her few options. With only three dresses in her arms, none that she really liked all that much, Lissette was beginning to lose hope. With a sigh, she moved over to the red color coded rack. If there was nothing there, she'd be stuck with some mediocre dress for her junior homecoming. She attempted to console herself. Afterall, she wasn't even planning on attending homecoming. She shouldn't care that much about how much she "loved" her dress, right?

That's when she saw it. At the very end of the rack was the one. Lissette knew it. A rush of giddiness filled Lissette as she quickly snatched the dress, practically skipping over to the dressing rooms. Locking the door to her dressing room behind her, she dumped the other three dresses on the bench, already taking the burgundy red dress off of its hanger.

As soon as she had changed into it, she whirled to look at her reflection in the mirror... wow.

She loved it.

It was pretty simple, a red slip silk dress with spaghetti straps that slid on comfortably, its length about halfway from her knees. Lissette didn't even try on the other dresses — this was it.

Changing back into her own clothes, she picked out a pair of black heels and a matching clutch, then took the items to the cashier, gleefully swiping Henley's debit card.

Walking back to the food court, Lissette took out her phone to let Henley know she was on her way, just to see that she had already received a text from him half an hour ago.

Wet Sock at 5:21 PM:

Forgot to tell you. You should look for a red dress. You look hot in red.

Lissette nearly dropped her newly purchased dress to the ground. For a moment, Lissette seriously continued doing a 180, running back to Windsor, and returning the dress, but realized that would be ridiculous. Henley's stupid text didn't change the fact that she still loved this dress and there were still no options even close to as good as it. Of course if she had seen Henley's text while she was in Windsor she wouldn't have even stepped foot near the red dresses, but there was no turning back time.

God, Henley wasn't going to let Lissette hear the end of this.

So completely not eager to see Henley and receive the inevitable question of what her dress looked like, Lissette slowed her pace. It only delayed the inevitable, though, as Lissette soon reached the food court. She saw Henley immediately, eating a soft pretzel at a small table of two chairs.

Mentally cursing, Lissette shuffled over to his table, sitting down across from him and awkwardly putting the dress over her lap. Henley straightened when he saw her, his eyes following Lissette's bag. Lissette slid his debit card across the table towards him, which he pocketed in his wallet.

"So?" he said. "What color?" Of course that was his first question.

"Why does it matter?" Lissette sniffed.

"Because I need to know what color tie to get while we're here?"

"It's none of your business."

"Oh my God," Henley said, a wide grin slowly creeping across his face, "you totally got a red dress!"

"I didn't see your text until after I bought it," Lissette snapped quickly.

Henley was laughing so hard now that he was on the verge of tipping out of his chair. "I can't believe you actually got a red one! I sent that text because I knew it'd mess with your head and it totally did! But wow!" Henley wheezed. "You must hate yourself right now!"

"I told you! It was already way too late by the time I saw your text!" Lissette defended herself.

"Bullshit. You so wanted to impress me," Henley said proudly, smirking.

"You know me so well, Henley. Truly," Lissette said dryly.

"I want to see it."

"What?"

"The dress?"

Lissette sighed, but relented, sliding the dress out of the bag just slightly so that he could see the burgundy color and silk fabric. Henley simply nodded in approval, but he was still smiling. Then, to Lissette's confusion, he pushed an uneaten soft pretzel sitting on a napkin across the table towards Lissette, which she proceeded to eye warily.

"What is that?" she questioned.

"Um... a pretzel?" Henley tilted his head to the side.

"No shit. But why?"

"This mall trip is supposed to be one of our 'dates.' The whole point of this is to make it clear we're dating, which means pictures. I was planning on posting you on my Instagram story, or maybe Snapchat. So just pose and attempt to look like someone I would actually ever consider going out with," Henley explained like it was obvious.

"Okay..." Lissette said slowly. Not really sure what Henley meant by "pose," Lissette held the pretzel up by her face and forced a smile. Henley raised his phone to take a picture, before faltering.

"No."

"No?" Lissette blinked.

"First of all, you look fucking awkward. I don't know what you're trying to do with the pretzel but it's not working. Second of all, that's the worst fake smile I've ever seen. You look like you're in pain. You look like I'm holding you at gunpoint," Henley said matter of factly.

"Well that's what I feel like."

"We're supposed to be dating. As difficult as this might be for you, at some point, you're going to have to eventually act like you enjoy being around me, which honestly should be easy. I'm a delight. I'm the one putting up with you," Henley shrugged. "Now, smile... better."

Lissette forced a smile again, only this time she was annoyed and offended, and Henley cringed.

"Jesus, Lissette, that's even worse," Henley muttered. "Shit, um... why don't you pretend to take a bite?"

Lissette rolled her eyes, but relented and raised the pretzel to her mouth, awkwardly opening her mouth and biting down.

Henley's face fell. "What is that?"

"Huh?" Lissette frowned, lowering the pretzel and growing increasingly irritated.

"Why are you pushing your teeth and chin out like that? I've seen you eat and I know it does not look like that," Henley said, lips curling into a sneer. Lissette couldn't believe he had the audacity to be annoyed right now.

"That's what you told me to do!" Lissette cried, wincing at how shrill her voice had become.

"I told you to take a bite, not show me your best horse impression!" Henley scoffed, jerking his head to the side as if he couldn't stand to look at Lissette. He sighed, drooped his head, and then turned back to look Lissette in the eye. "Okay, look, this is my last resort. You're not allowed to hold anything I say next against me, alright? Absolute confidentiality."

"What?"

"Just listen," Henley said.

Lissette sneered.

"Alright, let's see. Um, when I was a young, I would chew meat and keep it in my mouth for, like, twenty minutes without swallowing it. I would just suck the juice out of it until my mom pried it out. I would have kept it in my mouth longer if she didn't interfere" Henley began.

Lissette's mouth dropped open. "What are you doing?"

Henley's face was quickly turning tomato red, the second time Lissette had seen him blush in a very short span of time. This was some sort of alternate dimension. Nevertheless, he continued, "When I was six years old, still on training wheels, I was riding my bike down the street going behind a slow car. I was waiting for it to turn off the street when I totally ran straight into it. The car was, in fact, not moving. It was parked. My mom took me to the optometrist and that's how I figured out I need glasses."

Lissette smirked a little, catching on to what was happening, but she was more surprised at the glasses part. "Glasses?" she raised an eyebrow, studying his dark eyes.

"Yup. I have vision for shit, I just wear contacts most of the time."

Hm.

"Okay, uh, in second grade I stuffed a rock up my nostril and had to go to the ER to have it removed. When I was five years old, my grandma took me to the circus and got me a slushie. I was messing around and thought it'd be a good idea to stab the straw through the bottom of the styrofoam cup, putting a hole in it and getting slushie all over me. I started to cry... well, like sob, just screaming bloody murder, and everyone else was quietly watching the tightrope walker. Then, all of the sudden, a spotlight shined on me. Everyone was all concerned and — oh my God — they stopped the show, Lissette. They probably thought someone was being stabbed the way I was screaming. And I just kept on crying," Henley took a deep breath before pushing forward, running a hand through his hair.

"When I was thirteen-years-old and pimply I had the fattest crush on Inez Tolkien. I went to her house to ask her out. I had liked her for so long, and her mom told me she was sick. A few days later, I was checking, more like stalking, her Twitter, which I was too nervous to openly follow, but I still liked her so much I would look at it almost every day. And her most recent Tweet was on the day I went to her house. The Tweet said 'a guy came to my house to ask me out and my mom had to cover for me,'" Henley said. He paused, lips quirking into a smile, and said, "My Crocs faze may have lasted for a couple of years."

Lissette couldn't help it anymore. She threw her head back and cackled, a musical sound resonating from her chest. Perfect Henley wasn't perfect. He was actually a real human being embarrassing things happened to. Who would have guessed?

Lissette kept on laughing, unceasing, and looked back at Henley. He was grinning, genuinely grinning, tapping away on his phone screen at an astounding pace. It wasn't often Lissette got to see his authentic smile replacing his usual smirk. She wasn't used to the full force of it... and those dimples.

It was probably several minutes later when Lissette finally stopped laughing, but she and Henley both still had wide grins on their faces. Henley set his phone down contentedly. "There," he said, chipper.

"I applaud your bravery for sharing that with me, Henley," Lissette said, lightly kicking him in the shin underneath the table. "And your totally misplaced trust believing that I won't share that with anyone else."

"No," Henley gasped dramatically.

"Sorry, sorry. Please don't post an unflattering picture of me now," Lissette pleaded.

"Too late. I'm going to post the one of you looking like you've never used your teeth before," Henley smirked.

Lissette moaned in horror, sinking into her chair.

They sat in an uncharacteristically comfortable silence for a while after that, before Lissette decided she should eat the pretzel Henley got for her. So she did, breaking off bits of it.

"Oh, now you decide to bite normally?" Henley said.

Lissette flipped him off and kept on eating.

"Well," he said, standing up once Lissette finished her pretzel, "I want to go get my tie while we're here. We just need to run into Macy's."

"Boring."

"I literally had to wait in the food court alone for forty-five minutes while you got your dress, Lissette."

"I'd rather sit in the food court alone for forty-five hours than tie shop."

Henley looked doubtful, reaching to pick up his phone and causing its screen to light up. It was then that Lissette's attention was brought to just how many notifications he had. It had to be dozens upon dozens, and more were coming in by the second.

"Someone's popular," Lissette remarked.

"Huh? Oh," Henley said, glancing down and just noticing it. He turned his phone screen up. "I haven't checked my phone in a hot minute. One sec." Lissette watched as he unlocked his phone and began to scroll. At first, she was amused, but when she looked at Henley, she realized his face was slowly growing more and more horrified.

"What?" Lissette said, an edge to her voice. "What is it?"

Henley waited a few moments to reply, slowly lowering his phone and then making eye contact with Lissette. "We are so fucked."

"Henley!" Lissette practically shrieked. "You need to learn how to apply context! What the hell is going on?!"

Henley sighed, flipping his phone screen to face Lissette.

A full-body cringe rippled through her.

There, on his phone, might have been the most awkward picture Lissette had ever seen, taken when she and Henley had kissed in the hallway that morning. They were both stiff as planks, eyes open as their lips puckered and barely even made contact. They looked like they both believed the other to have a disease. They looked like sixth graders sharing their first kiss. They looked like they hated each other.

"Oh my God," Lissette practically gagged. "Why do you have that awful picture?"

"Thompson... people are sending this picture around. Everyone is. Shit. People are saying stuff about us. Not good stuff," he was anxiously running a hand through his hair, mussing it.

"'Stuff?'" Lissette repeated shrilly, Henley's panic amping her own nerves. "What kind of stuff?"

"They're calling us fucking awkward, obviously. They're saying you're just an experiment, that we look like two emotionless robots trying to figure out what kissing is, that we look like two cardboard cutouts propped up next to each other, that we're too stiff to ever actually last, that I'm really just She's-All-That-ing you," Henley rambled. He had never seemed so unorderly and out of sorts.

Lissette's expression fell as she processed. "Okay, this sounds like way more of an insult towards me than you."

"You don't understand. This picture being sent around, making people say this stuff, is doing the exact opposite of both of our goals through this whole fake dating thing. People are saying we're not going to last, which makes my unavailability seem only temporary and that I'll soon be single again. Not to mention, no one, especially Aaron, will take you seriously and believe that you've actually moved on when your relationship looks like this," Henley said, shoving the picture back in Lissette's face. She jerked away, as if she was blinded by it.

"Okay. I see your point."

"We're so fucked."

"We've covered that." Lissette didn't know why she wasn't panicking more. It was very in character for her to panic. Very. And she was worried, of course, especially after Henley raised all of those points. But maybe it was just because she wasn't surprised. Deep down, she had expected this. She always knew there was a fat chance people would actually buy her's and Henley's act when they despised each other in reality.

"We have to make up for this," Henley said.
That got Lissette's attention. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We have to make up for this. We have to prove to everyone that we actually do have chemistry and we actually like each other. No one can have a doubt about our relationship or everything will be ruined," Henley said. Lissette had never seen him look this serious before.

She was stunned.

"Okay," she said slowly, "and how do you propose we accomplish that?"

Henley thought for a moment, before looking up, enlightenment flashing across his face. "Cory's throwing a huge party this Saturday. Nothing makes teenagers more hormonal than parties. I say we go there... and put on a show."

"Oh no," Lissette moaned in dread, already picturing what this entailed. A show.

"I suppose you have a better idea then? Tell me how you think we should recover from that horrendous picture. Lay down your brilliant ideas on how we affirm to everyone that we really are capable of being into each other without being awkward," Henley sneered.

Lissette scowled. "I..." her voice trailed off. Of course he was right, she just didn't want to admit it.

"That's what I thought," Henley said.

"Okay, well, just... brief me on what you mean by putting on a show."

"Are you seriously that clueless, Thompson?" Henley sighed. No, Lissette wasn't, but she had to hear it for her own two ears, no matter how awful. "We go there. We make out. Like, actually make out. We act like a super lovey-dovey, typical couple. Touchy. That..." Henley coughed, "Um, that kind of stuff." He was shifting back and forth now and Lissette was pleased to see how uncomfortable this was making him. She was uncomfortable too. Beyond uncomfortable. But if she had to suffer to make Henley suffer, then so be it.

"If that's fine with you," Henley added quickly. His voice actually sounded genuine, all the snarkiness having left, if just for a moment.

Did Lissette even have a choice? "I guess it's our only option," Lissette relented. "But that counts as our second date of the week."

"Right," Henley said. There was a long, incredibly uncomfortable – surprise surprise – silence, before Henley added, "Don't forget about the football game this Friday. You have to come."

"Don't remind me," Lissette groaned. She hated high school football games. In the few that she had been to, they had been so overcrowded, especially with sweaty, loud underclassmen. Plus, there were too many chants to memorize.

"See, that response tells me exactly that I do need to remind you," Henley shook his head.

Lissette scowled.

Another long silence.

Finally, Henley cleared his throat. "Let's go get my tie," he said. "Remember: Friday, football game. Saturday, party."