We stepped out of the lobby of the hotel, both of us unlinking our hands immediately, letting out groans and sounds of protest. "You can't do that," she said. 

"Do what?" I asked in confusion. 

"You can't kiss me," she shook her head. 

"I didn't!" I argued. 

"I'm talking about what you said, bellboy, shut up and listen. Whatever happens, do not kiss me," she said. 

I rolled my eyes, "You realize if we're trying to make people believe that we're dating and in love, we're gonna have to kiss, right?" I explained slowly like she was a child. 

"That's not true, we could... hold hands, or- or hug, or kiss on the cheek," she shrugged. 

"Oliver, what couple our age doesn't show PDA?" I asked. 

She whined, running her fingers through her hair. "Bellboy, I'm not kissing you," she shook her head at me. 

"Olive, you're gonna have to, suck it up, deal with it. It's not like I'm very fond of you, I'm not dying to kiss you either," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. 

She chuckled, "No, you just think I'm pretty," she teased, turning to face me. 

I took a step closer to her but she didn't even stumble back. "You're a-" 

"Bitch, I know," she nodded, pushing me back. We stood there, watching cars come in, drop people off, and drive off, or the valet would take them to park. 

"Olive," I sighed but she ignored me like I expected her to. "Oliver," I groaned. Nothing. "Olivia." She turned to face me. "What do we do?" I huffed. 

"I don't know," she sighed, mumbling curses under her breath. We both fell into silence and while I was looking around, I turned to the entrance and saw Justin and Annabella in there. "God, are they like following us?" she groaned. I looked at her then at them. I'd give it ten seconds until they saw us. 

We have to do something rather than standing so far from each other, making it very obvious just by our body language that we had been arguing. 

"Seriously, what is it with them? Is it like- what are you doing?" she asked, looking at me weirdly when I took a step closer and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer. 

"Do you trust me?" 

"Absolutely not," she shook her head. 

"Do you know me?" 

"I like to think so." 

"Good, then you know I'll act like this never happened," I said.

"What never-" She froze. I kissed her and she froze. Last I checked, kissing isn't a one-way route, but I would give her a minute to react. When she was still frozen, I tightened my grip on her waist and pulled her closer. She seemed to snap her out of her the confused daze she was in and she kissed me back and- whoa. 

I think it's safe to say, I did not expect Olivia Carrington to kiss like that. Considering the last time we kissed was in the ninth grade, I didn't know how she kissed. I do remember Justin talking about her being a good kisser when he first started going out with her but that memory didn't hold any significance in my mind. 

She pulled away moments later, grinning up at me, "I think they left, thanks for the freaking warning," she said through gritted teeth. We both took one look inside and saw that they weren't there. 

"I had to do something, they were watching. And if we weren't kissing at the least, then why did we leave the reception hall to 'get a minute to ourselves?'" I asked while following her inside. 

"You're the one who told them we were leaving to be alone, you tell me," she threw a glance at me over her shoulder as we entered the reception hall. It's almost midnight now and I think the party is supposed to be ending soon. 

I grabbed her clutch out of her hand and pulled her phone out, noticing the tampon she brought. "Period?" I smirked. 

"You never know, thanks for going through my purse, by the way," she glared at me, snatching it back. 

I took it back and took out her phone and then mine and sent her a text with the address of the cafe near my house. "Meet me tomorrow at 11. We'll talk about what to do on Monday," I said, giving her phone back to her after it dinged with my text. 

"Where are you going?" she asked in confusion. 

"Leaving," I said, nodding over at my parents who were saying goodbye to their friends and Mr. Thomas. "11 o'clock tomorrow, don't be late because-" 

She kissed me. She kissed me. What the fuck, why is she kissing me? She broke away and I looked down at her, utterly confused. "Bye," she said. 

I looked behind her, noticing Annabelle sitting at a table. "Bye," I said, pecking her cheek. 

After that, she went off just as my parents came over. "Ready to leave?" my dad asked. I nodded in response. We left after that and headed for our car. While my dad went to ask the valet to bring in our car and we waited, the doors opened behind us. 

I looked down to my right, seeing Olivia. "I thought I got rid of you for tonight," I said, without turning to look at her. 

"And I thought you'll be in the lowest circle of hell," she replied.

"You wish," I scoffed. 

"You bet I do," she replied, "Don't kiss me again," she mumbled. 

I looked at her, "You know I'm gonna have to." 

"Olivia!" She looked to the front where her parents were, filing into their car. 

They even got a faster valet. 

"I'll kill you," she said before walking off. 

"I'll wait!" I called out. She turned around, flipping me off when her parents weren't looking before getting into the car. Her car drove past me, her eyes meeting mine in the window before she was out of sight. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

That's the not so subtle way of my head telling me: Get her out of your mind. 

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

I was sitting at the cafe, it's 10:56 and I'm suddenly really tempted to throw my coffee on her when she walks in and doesn't look as disheveled as I feel because of last night. 

She got an iced tea before sitting with me. "What?" she asked, stabbing her cup with the straw. 

"We can't do this at school the way we did last night. We need to get it together," I said, leaning forward, sliding my coffee from one hand to the other. 

"Okay, Sherlock, tell me what to do," she scoffed, sipping her iced tea, peering up at me through her lashes. 

"It's not believable and I'm not the one who dates, you do. So, you tell me what to do. And anyway, this was your idea," I shrugged. 

"I used you as a ploy for the moment, I didn't think we'd have to make it part of our daily lives. If I would have known that I would have to spend every day with you, I would have introduced Mr. Thomas as my boyfriend," she spoke sarcastically. 

I rolled my eyes, "Look, the point is, we're going to have to keep doing this for a while and if we don't want to get humiliated in front of anyone or everyone, we need to get better at this and make it as believable as we can." 

"How do you make a relationship believable? A relationship is a relationship. We have a relationship of enemies, they have a relationship of an old married couple in love," she said, pointing at the table behind mine, "They have a relationship probably of girlfriend and boyfriend," she said, looking at the couple leaving the cafe. "Do the two of us, sitting here, look like any of those?" 

I stayed silent. 

"Exactly. If we're gonna act like we're in love, we have to look the part. And that's the problem because we can't stand each other." 

"I thought we decided to push the hate aside while we're at this," I groaned. 

"We did. But clearly, we can't. It's weird. We don't know anything about each other, you're not giving me much to pretend to like," she shrugged. 

"Neither are you," I retorted. 

"So, you start, make the first move. I'll follow. You're gonna have to tell me a little about you. If someone asks me what I know about my boyfriend, what am I gonna say?" I sighed, leaning back in frustration. This is the last person I want to know and I want to know me. 

"You ask, I answer?" I gave up. 

"Sure. Favorite color?" 

"Black, yours?" 

"Red. Favorite book?" she asked. 

"Do I look like I read?" I asked. 

"You do. You're my neighbor, what I see when I open my window is your giant bookcase," she scoffed. 

I rolled my eyes, "The Body In The Library," I admitted. 

"Agatha Christie," she nodded with a smile, "Favorite food?" 

"Don't really have one, I'm not a picky eater." 

"I am," she snorted. 

"What's yours?" 

"McDonald's." 

"Real picky that makes you," I chuckled. 

"Somewhere you really want to visit?" 

"Barcelona, you?" 

"Probably Tokyo. Or Bali." 

"Bali's pretty, I feel like you'd like it," I nodded. 

"You think of what I'd like?" she smirked. 

"Move on to the next question, please."

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