It was difficult, but I managed to avoid Camille's suspicious looks. She attempted to dissect the situation. I could feel her eyes pinning my limbs down like chaotic butterfly wings and trying to pick apart the answers.

Camille took a swing. "It's nice that you invited Parker."

I said, "My socks keep slipping down my foot. Hold on." I bent down, untying my shoe and fixing my socks back into place. I took my time, waiting for Parker to show up. She was taking too long on purpose. Just to drive me crazy. This girl needed a new hobby, one that didn't involve driving up my blood pressure.

More unsatisfied than Angelica Schuyler, Camille crossed her arms and tried again, "I thought I saw you two walking together, but I assumed I was having a stroke or something. Did I miss the reconciliation? You know, I would have sold tickets to that. I mean, who doesn't want to watch a live miracle-?"

I couldn't tell her.

I couldn't possibly tell her that I wanted to take up the bet, that I wanted to pretend-date Parker, who I might dislike more than any person or thing on the entire planet. In a lot of ways, it was like admitting to still using training wheels on a bike or that I needed a nightlight to sleep.

Right on time and by that, I mean late, Parker dashed out of the school from the arts department. She lugged a huge plastic bin full of pieces of the Cinderella costumes. Camille unlocked the car and I opened the back door of my car so Parker could drop it with a dramatic sigh. She raised her hand for a high-five. "Go, team."

I rolled my eyes and slapped her hand.

Camille's eyes peered harder as if she could somehow see through me. Parker was smart, maybe even aware of our awkward situation. She dashed for the front seat, going on and on about the behind-the-scenes of Cinderella. With nothing else to do, Camille and I followed her inside the car. Camille sat in the back with her arms firmly crossed.

"I swear, Camille!" Parker insisted, throwing her hands in the air. Hoping to divert Camille's attention, I started playing the soundtrack from Once Upon An Island, which was Camille's current favorite musical (it changed often). "Jordan needs glasses. He-" she clarified for me, "he's supposed to be Prince Charming, but I don't know what's supposed to be so charming about a guy squinting all the time. But anyways! He walked right into the stepmother's table and took the whole thing down with it! Mrs. Miller nearly had a heart attack! Jordan has no understudy. Half the chorus is going to be girls with beards."

"That feels like bad planning," I stated.

"It's so hard to get guys to audition. We're always left with dozens of girls barking up the same tree to audition for the character; meanwhile, the boys basically get to pick and choose who they want to play."

"Careful," Camille finally spoke. "I'm one of those girls."

"Oh," Parker rolled her eyes, "you're different."

"Not really."

"Seriously you are. Have you met Norah Brady, who's Cinderella? She's so obnoxious-"

I spoke before I could stop myself. It was too easy. "Pot meet the kettle."

"Fuck off," Parker laughed and even nudged me a little.

It was like getting the "okay" to go ahead. Parker finally granted me permission to make her laugh. I kept going. "She must be a true monster if you're the one calling her obnoxious, Ms. I'm wearing glasses without the glass."

"Hey! They're cool! It's not fair I was blessed with 20/20 vision."

"I happen to be wearing contacts, you ass. Do you write this shit down at home? Do you have a list of things to say that will drive me crazy?"

"Now, Elizabeth," Parker grinned as if giddy from the accusation, "it's poor taste to peek inside someone else's diary."

I smiled back. Unable to help myself, I smiled like Parker was personally spreading my lips. This was until I caught Camille raising a thick brow in the rearview mirror. A blush slapped across my face and I snapped straight ahead at the road, gripping the wheel a bit tighter. We were caught. In what, there was no way Camille would know, but we were obviously up to something.

I avoided all eye contact until we arrived at McDonald's. I had a theory about the smell at McDonald's. Every store opening, the establishments were gifted a candle, bottled up with the smell of stale fries and grease. Every store smelled the exact same. Amazingly. I could walk into a McDonald's across the country and probably think I was back home in this suburban nightmare.

Camille held her place behind us, where she could keep watch. She waited until we ordered, and we were sitting in one of the booths, after I flicked the bits and crumbs left behind to the floor. I settled down with my caramel frappe, when a straw wrapper bounced off my cheek. Snapping my head to the side, Parker was already ready to block my retaliation. I crumpled my greasy empty bag and just tossed it at her head. It bounced off her head and she laughed, fumbling to catch it and throw it back.

"Alright, alright," Camille spoke up, raising her hands. She was mad when we fought and now, she was upset that we were getting along. There was no winning. "I'm over it. I love a good mystery, but none of the clues make sense and I have a feeling I'm the dead body in this scenario, so if you two could please just get it over with. What's going on?"

"Um..." My instinct was to say nothing to deny everything, but I didn't. Parker didn't say anything either. We just looked at each other for a moment, measuring the other's expression. We both toed the starting line, itching for someone to say "GO". I wanted more. I wanted to change. I didn't want to be the girl that cried, the girl that was afraid of everything. I wanted to be the girl that could be loved. I needed to do this trial and learn how to be that girl.

So, I looked at Camille across the table. I said, "Camille, if we were to do a thirty-day trial period...."

Camille blinked in surprise. She probably didn't expect me to bring that up ever again. I stayed calm, cool and collected, however. Cool as a cucumber and I kept going. Why stop now? I couldn't take the words back. "What do you think should happen to us if we broke up before the end of the trial? Like a punishment type thing."

"Hm..." Camille dropped her back into the squeaky cushion. She sipped her frappe with a shrug. "That's tough. It'd have to be painful enough to scare you into commitment, but it can't be illegal."

"Preferably."

"And let's say we start tomorrow?" Parker added, a bounce in her seat.

"That's right," Camille nodded, "it would end around Halloween-" It was then that her eyes sparkled. She grinned nice and wide as if she was beginning to weave a pretty good tale. "Hey, it'd be a good punishment if you had to roll a house-"

I jumped in as my eyes popped out of my head. Rolling someone's house had become a bit of a classic prank in this town, mostly for seniors about to graduate or when the football team got a little rowdy. Rolling someone's house took only three necessary items:

1. Toilet paper

2. Trees

3. And the balls to throw the toilet paper

I said, "I thought you said it wouldn't be illegal."

"I'm not done. You'd have to roll your own house." She grinned, her excitement bubbling over like a shaken soda bottle. "Imagine! If your parents catch you, they'll decimate you into another dimension! If you don't, you'll just have to live knowing how much they wanted to kill the person who did it. Would either of you want to do that?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Lizzie said, "for me that'll be a big fat no."

"Pass." Parker frowned.

Camille sat up primly. "It's the perfect punishment then, though I'd love to see you two try. I'd sit in my car and eat popcorn. Oh!" She laughed. "Though there's no way you two are serious. Lizzie can't even commit to cutting her hair-"

Before I could defend myself, Parker stated, "I want to do it."

Camille was taken aback. She blinked. "What? You do?" She whipped her head back and forth. Even I had to stare at Parker. I looked for this strong foundation to crumble, but Parker appeared unruffled. She stared straight ahead with a small nod. Everything about her seemed indestructible and I wished my bones held half of that strength. Her confidence was like this bulletproof armor while I spent every day dodging only half the bullets aimed at me.

"I like the challenge," Parker said and eyed me. "And I'm not scared. What do you say, Lizzie? How would you like to make an honest woman out of me in thirty days?"

My mouth went dry. This was supposed to be my cue.

Yes.

Or no.

I wanted to be a better person. Everyone does, or at least they should. I wanted someone to love me and that wasn't weird either. But no matter how much I wanted to change, I had no idea if I could trust Parker with something as precious as my truth, my pure self. She was going to learn all my faults and my insecurities. It was like handing my enemy my battle plans... If we're going to date, even in a fake way, I really needed to stop imagining Parker as the opponent.

"I'll..." I started to say, the lump in my throat growing. Camille leaned over the table and nabbed one of the napkins. She took out a pen and started scribbling some stuff down. Parker's eyes trapped me, and my resolve slipped through my ungraceful fingers.

I guess I'll just swing with my eyes closed.

Like jumping into the deep end, I closed my eyes, held my breath and took the plunge. "Okay. Yes, I'll do it."

When I opened my eyes, Parker was smiling.

Camille squealed. "Awesome! Oh, man this is gonna be fun." She slapped the McDonald's napkin on the table in front of us, sliding it closer. Some places in the napkin had torn from Camille's pen pressure. I could identify with the struggle and the mess. "Sign here and you'll officially start dating on Monday, October first!"

The napkin read in Camille's decent handwriting:

As of October 1st, Elizabeth Hernandez and Ashley Marie Parker hereby agree to date as totally cute girlfriends for thirty days. The Trial ends October 30th. If one party decides to end the trial early and "break up" with party two, they must undergo a horrible punishment designated by Camille Hernandez.

At the bottom, Camille wrote two X's in front of dotted lines.

Camille held out the pen to us both, right in the middle. My palms were already sweating.

There was no way in hell I was going to go for it first, so I silently demanded Parker to take it with my eyes alone. I wanted them to convey something close to "you're the one who started this mess, so you're going to sign first and I'm so scared out of my mind, I can't pick the pen up anyways."

Parker got the message.

She took the pen and signed her name in a very Parker way, with flourishes and a dot at the end. She handed me the pen. I muttered a few curse words under my breath, having no idea what I was getting myself into, and just initialed the open line because it didn't seem like anyone else was exactly lining up to be Parker's fake girlfriend. I held the pen and glanced from Camille to Parker.

My stomach squirmed. Parker just graduated from my worst acquaintance to my... girlfriend. My heart skipped more than a beat. It jumped a full flight of stairs. It dashed headfirst off a cliff. The reality of the situation caught up to me. When I thought about having a girlfriend, from kissing to hand holding and more, I suddenly placed Parker in that role.

The heat from my blush singed my face and I fidgeted with the pen, rubbing it between my fingers. All I could look at suddenly was the stupid contract. I admitted, wanting to fill the silence with anything, "I suddenly feel crazy awkward, oh my god." I really wanted my piano.

"Maybe we should flirt a little, so the progression into dating is more natural," Parker suggested. She laid her arm around me and I got a whiff of whatever shampoo she used, a sweet cupcake smell. She smelled like homemade vanilla frosting. She wriggled her eyebrows. "You could seductively feed me a French fry."

"Yeah, I'm already regretting this." I groaned and dropped my head onto the table.

And that's the end of Part Two! It's a short section, but signing up for a new subscription never takes long anyways, haha.

Don't forget to let me know what you think about the chapter? Are you worried for your girls? What kind of mess do you think they're getting themselves into? Can you even imagine Parker and Lizzie dating? And if you were Camille, what would you be thinking?