Walsh’s eyes as he watched me, listening closely. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I think he feels like you get everything handed to you. You got captain position. You’re the most popular guy in school, all the girls love you, and he’s only got boring, plain me.”
“It’s not like I asked Coach to give me the spot,” Walsh scoffed, more under his breath than aloud. “And you’re not plain or boring. Everything he said in there was completely out of line, so don’t believe any of it.”
Was it out of line? I mean, Scott wasn’t wrong. I never did go to any of Scott’s games. Never had any desire to. We didn’t do anything as a couple. We were polar opposites. “It’s whatever,” I said at last, leaning my head into my hand.
“What were you two doing together anyway?” Walsh looked at me a little warily, as if fully understanding that this topic is what set me off before. “I just mean, he’s such a jerk and you’re so…”
I waited but he didn’t go on. “So…?”
“Nice?” It wasn’t a statement, but then again, I hadn’t been overly pleasant to him.
But that was the big question, wasn’t it? Why was I with Scott? Scott, who apparently hated everything about me, even down to my glasses.
“I’m writing an article,” I told Walsh, figuring there was nothing left to lose. “About baseball. Scott was giving me information for it.” Even if he hadn’t known it yet.
“What’s the article for?”
To get my funding back. “It was for the Back to School article,” I said instead. “Just detailing the baseball team’s winnings from the summer. But without him, it’s not going to work.”
“Well, why don’t you use me?”
“Use you for what?”
The corners of Walsh’s lips twitched as he looked at me. “For your article. Now that we’re together, I can give you plenty of insider information.”
“I’m sorry, what? Together?”I blinked. Once, and then twice, his words echoing in my ears. It took three repetitions in my brain for me to understand what exactly he was saying. “We’re not together. We’re not continuing this—whatever this is.” I gestured almost frantically between us, my hand waving in the air.
Amusement colored his tone, and I wanted to shake it out of him. “Why not?”
Why not? Was he serious? I could think of a million “why nots.” And for one— “Uh, because it’s lying?”
“Is it really? Or is it just acting?” Walsh considered it while looking off in the distance, “I always thought I’d be a great actor. I mean, I did pretty great in there, you can’t lie.”
“No. My answer is no. Heck no.” This guy was delusional. He seriously was. Walsh Hunter, my boyfriend? “Thank you for sticking up for me—you didn’t need to, though, because I didn’t ask you to—but no. I don’t need a fake boyfriend.”
“Don’t you? It’ll keep Scott’s mouth in check. No way is he going to be a jerk to you if you’re my girl.”
My girl. Those words made me nearly shudder. “No one would believe it.”
“Sure they will. I can be pretty believable. I fell so in love with you that nothing else matters.”
Jeez, just hearing him say that… Dude was off his rocker.
Just as I went to vehemently reject the lunatic idea again, Walsh’s other words rang a little clearer in my mind. Using him for the article. Using the team captain for my article. Fake dating him would give me the perfect in for my undercover journalism scheme, exclusive access to insider knowledge, and Walsh wouldn’t be the wiser.
I didn’t need Scott if I had Walsh. And with the captain of the team, the article would practically write itself.
It sounded horrible, sure, but was it wrong? Truly? This guy got everything he wanted without having to work for it. Using him for my article was only fitting.
“Why do you want to do this?” I asked, trying to straighten out the last threads of sanity. A fake relationship was a whole other ball game. This was dirtier, messier. I knew my motivation, but what was his? “I get why you did it back there, impulsively helping me out because you thought it was right. But why draw it out?”
“Hey, telling the truth would make me look bad too, you know. Do you really want me to go back in there and tell Scott we were lying?” he asked, raising his blond eyebrows. “I can do that, but I can’t imagine that’d go over very well.”
He had a point, of