As the bell rang for the final period of the school day, Harper blinked wearily, her vision blurred from another restless night. Her fingers lazily gathered her frizzy, ratted curls into a messy ponytail—there was no effort, no vanity, just survival. She stood before the cracked mirror in the girls' bathroom, taking in her reflection: swollen, puffy eyes framed by dark smudges, cheeks blotchy from days of crying. A ghost of herself.
It had been a week since she broke up with Josie, and it felt like her world had crumbled beneath her feet. Every night had ended in sobs muffled into a pillow, every morning greeted with an ache in her chest. Jackson and Aura were growing restless—sharing a room with Harper had meant sleepless nights for them too, the air heavy with heartbreak.
She yanked a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and dabbed at the mascara-stained skin beneath her eyes, sighing sharply through her nose as she forced herself to look at the damage. No amount of blotting could erase what she felt inside.
Dragging herself out of the bathroom, she made her way toward the field for PE.
She dropped onto the bleachers, her limbs aching with grief, and began unlacing her boots to change into her sneakers.
"Hey, you. Was wondering where you disappeared to." came a familiar voice.
Harper looked up, eyes meeting Blake's. A small smile tugged at her lips as she returned to tying her laces. Blake raised an eyebrow, concern washing over his features as he took in her appearance.
"What happened to you? You look—like you've been dragged through a few bushes and back."
"Like a mess?" she offered with a half-hearted smirk.
"I was gonna say like you haven't slept in a week... but yeah, that too."
Harper gave a soft, humorless chuckle. "That's because I haven't."
Blake sat down beside her. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
She hesitated, her fingers stilling on her laces. After a moment, she looked up at him—his face open, kind, patient. She exhaled shakily and spilled everything: the breakup with Josie, her manipulative grandmother, her spineless mother, the threat of conversion camp. Blake listened quietly, his expression darkening with sympathy.
"Oh, Harper..." he murmured, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry. You don't deserve that—none of it. That's beyond cruel. What are you going to do?"
Harper shrugged, forcing a bitter laugh. "I dunno... maybe join the boys' soccer team, get a fake boyfriend, convince them I'm 'normal' for a while. Anything to get them off my back."
Blake blinked. "Wait, what?"
Their eyes locked, and something flickered in Harper's mind—a spark of wild, desperate inspiration. She jumped up suddenly, grabbing Blake's hands with an intensity that made him jump slightly. His eyes widened in alarm.
"Blake..." she said slowly, pulling his hands to her chest, placing them over her heart. "You. You can be my boyfriend. Congratulations!"
Blake blinked rapidly. "Wait—what? Harper, I'm gay. I told you that."
She rolled her eyes. "I know, dumbass. I mean fake. Just for a few weeks. Just enough to make my family back off."
Blake hesitated. "And what's in it for me?"
Harper grinned, slipping seamlessly into her persuasive charm. "Well... if you're seen with me, you'll get in with the popular crowd. My older sister is queen bee here—popularity runs in the family. The guys will think you're cool, maybe even invite you to try out for sports. And you'll get to skip the whole 'new kid loner' stage. Come on, Blake... please. I wouldn't ask if it didn't matter."
Blake gave her a look—half amused, half wary. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the desperate hope on Harper's face. Then, slowly, he guided his hands to her shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.
"Okay..." he said at last, voice soft. "But only for a few weeks."
Harper squealed with joy, beaming as she threw her arms around him and peppered his cheek with rapid kisses. Blake laughed, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection, his face flushing with color.
"You're the best!" she grinned, pulling away and pointing at him dramatically as she began walking backward across the field. "I have practice now, but I'll see you later! Bye, boyfriend!"
Blake shook his head with a smile, watching her go. He had a feeling life at this new school was about to get a lot more interesting.
The days blurred into a careful dance of appearances. Harper and Blake moved through school like actors on a stage, their "relationship" a script they were both learning to improvise.
At school:
Harper walked beside Blake through crowded hallways, their arms casually brushing, drawing sideways glances from curious classmates. They exchanged inside jokes that only they understood—pretending to be more than friends, but secretly just two kids trying to survive.
In the cafeteria, Blake slipped Harper a folded note beneath her tray: "You owe me a snowball fight." Harper smiled, the heaviness in her chest momentarily lifting.
On the field:
Blake cheered the loudest as Harper kicked the ball in gym, teammates shooting them knowing looks. They shared a high-five that lingered just long enough to send sparks up Harper's arm.
After school:
They walked home together, their conversations shifting from forced to easy. Blake talked about his favorite music and his weird family traditions. Harper shared bits of her world—what she loved about old movies, how she hated running but loved the wind in her face.
Christmas Break: Maintaining the Illusion
Harper sat on her bedroom floor, surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbons. Carefully, she sealed a Christmas card, its cover adorned with a cheesy cartoon reindeer, and tucked a small gift inside: a knitted scarf she'd stayed up late finishing.
Across town, Blake chuckled as he read Harper's card, the words carefully crafted to sound like a real boyfriend's. He wrapped a box containing a vintage band poster — something he knew Harper would adore — and added a note: "For my favourite 'girlfriend' — hang in there. xx"
When Harper returned home for the holidays, she presented the gifts to her family with a practiced smile. Blake's scarf made its way around her neck, a quiet shield against their scrutiny.
Back at Blake's house, he hung Harper's poster in his room, a private reminder that beneath the fake, a genuine friendship was taking root.
Back to School: A New Year
As the school year resumed, Harper and Blake's fake relationship grew more convincing — and complicated. They shared whispered plans for a Valentine's Day "date," and Blake teased that he'd need a real kiss to keep up the act.
But in moments alone, they simply laughed, friends who found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of their lives.