The Friend Scheme - Cale Dietrich Page 0,45

it. He’d look right at home on a red carpet.

I walk over to him. My shoes click on the floor. Everything else blurs away.

I might be walking up to Jason Donovan.

My enemy.

Here it goes, I guess.

“Matt!” he says, smiling a gorgeous smile. His eyes light up. “Thanks so much for coming. Dude, you should never take this off, you look so handsome.”

If this is an act, he could win an Oscar.

The song changes to that one that repeats I feel love I feel love I feel love over and over again.

Good one, universe.

“No worries, I wasn’t doing anything,” I say. “And thanks, um. You look handsome, too, like, I’m sure you know that, but yeah. You do. Sorry. I’m bad at giving compliments. And receiving them, actually.”

He laughs. “You’re doing better than you think.”

Now’s the time. I need to ask him to talk.

“Er,” I say. “Listen, I…”

“What?”

I can’t get the words out. I don’t even know why.

“You okay, man?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He eyes me warily. “Well, good. So, do you want to meet my friends?”

Not really. I want to talk to him about the scheme. No matter how hard I try, though, I can’t get myself to.

“Sure.”

He leads me through the party to a spot on the dance floor. There are two girls there.

One has short black hair, shorter than mine. She’s wearing a floral dress that’s freaking cute. The other is in this über-cool green dress that contrasts really well with her warm-brown skin.

They both look amazing.

So this is them, Jason’s friends.

And they’re clearly cool.

Whelp.

Jason puts his hand on my back.

“Hey, friends,” says Jason. “This is Matt. Matt, meet Naomi and Bri.”

Naomi, the girl in the floral dress, blinks. “Is this the Matt?”

“The one and only,” says Jason, and he squeezes my shoulder. “He’s a cutie, isn’t he?”

Wait, he talked about me?

And he just called me cute? On top of calling me handsome earlier?

I don’t know how to process all this.

“I hope I don’t disappoint,” I say.

“Omigosh,” says Naomi. “Sweetie, no, you don’t at all. Look at you in your suit! You look like James Bond!”

“Shucks. You look great, too. That dress is … something else.”

She frowns, then her eyebrows narrow.

“Shit, dude,” says Bri, laughing. “You’ve got a way with words.”

Oh fuck.

“I mean that in a good way! Um. I just mean, like, it’s next-level good. Sorry. You seem really cool, so I’m nervous. Ugh. Ignore me.”

“Hey, it’s cool.” She beams. “I’m used to making boys nervous. Okay, Jase, I like him already. You can keep this one.”

He squeezes my shoulder again. “I was planning on it.”

And my heart threatens to burst out of my chest like a Xenomorph. How can a feeling like this not be real? How can he fake it?

I really wish I knew what was going on.

More than that, though. Despite everything, I want him to do what he said.

I want him to keep me.

“You boys wanna dance?” asks Bri.

Um.

No.

My answer to that question is always no.

No no no, a million times no.

But Jason nods, and suddenly I’m walking with him to the dance floor. Soon, we’re surrounded by other students, who are all dancing. Lights flash around us, and it’s just dark enough for me to feel a little anonymous.

I must say, it’s a little infectious.

Seriously, he called me cute?

Plus, Jason introduced me to his friends like I was his date.

Like he was showing me off.

Even though I know about the scheme, I want to feel nothing but this.

Seeing as I have no other option, I awkwardly join their dance. I have one dance move, which is just jumping along to the beat. Sometimes I move my arms a little. But that makes me feel weird. I’m just not good at this. A few more songs play, mainly vintage disco, and I grow increasingly uncomfortable with each one.

It’s more than the fact that I’m uncoordinated, though. And even a night like this can’t make me like disco music.

I’m dancing with Jason and his friends.

I’m acting like nothing’s changed.

But it has.

I can’t do this.

The Friend Scheme is the real reason I’m here. I’m not here to have a good time. I’m here to find out if Jason is really a Donovan.

I can’t forget that.

I need some space to think this through. Because once I bring it up, there’s no taking it back, and I will probably lose all of this. Even if it’s fake, a part of me thinks it’s better than nothing. I want to ignore it and string him along for a