I fear I may have greatly overestimated the brilliance of my proposition because Oliver is staring at me like I just suggested we pillage a small rural town for the last of their monthly rations.

Perhaps I jumped the gun just a smidgen but objectively speaking, pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend would be mutually beneficial, thus the idea deserves to be discussed.

Due to the fact that British-boy didn't correct Sawyer when he implied that we were an item, I am now stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The rock is called a liar by the entire student population because by the time lunch rolls around, I'm sure Sawyer will mention my 'new' relationship to Corn-on-Cob who will then spread the news across campus like a wildfire.

Oliver is the hard place. Do I want people to think that my standards are so low that I'd date a guy who doesn't tuck in his shirt and clearly doesn't own a hairbrush? No, no I don't. But I also don't want to get caught in a lie. With so many children of well-connected families attending Hilton, the news of my deception could easily reach the wrong people and severely impact my future.

I can't have that. I also can't have Sawyer thinking I lied just to save face, which I did, but he doesn't need to know that. So I say again, this time, more confident and assured, "Oliver? Did you hear me? What you think?"

Oliver blinks, his eyes scanning my face, almost as if he's waiting for me to say just kidding. "You really are fucking mental, aren't you?" Oliver asks, cocking his head to the side. "Why in the fuck would I want to date you?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his clear misinterpretation of my idea. "We wouldn't be dating for real, Oliver," I explain slowly, ensuring that I enunciate. How in the world did he get admission into Hilton if he can't understand simple English? "We would just pretend to date. Just for a little while so that Sawyer doesn't think we made shit up. Then we can break up. Publicly."

Oliver narrows his eyes. "Did you bash your head on something this morning?" he asks. "Perhaps your parents dropped you as a small child?"

"No," I state, crossing my arms defensively. "Why?"

"Because that's got to be the most ludicrous idea I've ever heard, pretending to date? Christ, you must watch far too much TV," he notes, shaking his head in disbelief. "You need help, love. Maybe it's time to pop into that guidance counselor's office for a little one-on-one, make sure that everything is working properly-" he pokes my head. "Up here."

I swat his hand away, grinding my teeth. "This arrangement would also benefit you," I state. "Something tells me you're not one for following rules, and at Hilton, if you don't follow the rules, you get expelled. As an SLO, I can prevent that from happening." I pause, pursuing my lips. "Unless you don't give a shit about your future."

"You have got the most backwards girl I've met in my whole life." Oliver lets out an incredulous chuckle. "You seem to be quite a stickler for the rules, yet you're willing to break them in order to not look bad? It's nice to see that you follow your own moral compass rather than the one set forth by the Academy, as you put it earlier. A bit of a hypocrite, aren't we?"

My jaw drops. "I am not a hypocrite!" I insist, my blood thrumming with irritation. "I am just trying to solve a problem in the most logical and fool-proof way possible."

"A problem which you, yourself created," Oliver retorts, leaning against the day-lockers, a smug look on his pompous face. "I don't see how your problem has anything to do with me, at all."

I suck in a sharp breath. I refuse to be rattled by this inbred's annoying, yet frustratingly accurate, observation. "So you're telling me that you, Oliver Knight, plan to stay out of trouble this whole year? That you don't plan on breaking any rules? You're not going to ride your motorcycle on school grounds? Sneak out? Have a little drink in your room? None of that? Hmm?"

Oliver shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "Nope," he says, his tone oozing with sarcasm. "I plan on being on my best behavior. I promised my sweet caring aunt Bessie that I would be a good boy this year. And I plan to stick to my word."

"You are so full of shit," I say, exasperated by his laissez-faire attitude. "Why are you so reluctant to agree? It's a good idea! I'll make sure you don't get a single blue slip all year if you do this for few months. A few months, Oliver, for an entire year of freedom. It's a no brainer."

Oliver leans down towards me, an annoying smirk on his face. "Listen, love," he whispers. "I don't need your help, alright? I don't do favors and I sure as fuck don't date pretentious snobs like yourself." He straightens out his shoulders as begins to walk away. "But good luck with everything, Kennedy. Looks like you'll need it."

"More like you'll need it." I whip my head around and scowl at dirty-boy as I catch up to him, yanking his arm so that he's facing me. "You are making a grave mistake," I state sternly. "I am going to watch you like a fucking hawk, Oliver. You so much as miss curfew by a minute, I'm writing you up. You forget to recycle? I'm writing you up. You sneeze in the quiet zone of the library-"

"You'll write me up?" Oliver snorts, pulling his arm out of my grip. "Yes, I got that. You were beginning to get a little repetitive there, love. Must be the head trauma, yeah?"

I roll my eyes. "The only person with a head trauma here is you," I say, shooting daggers. "What are you going to do when you get expelled, Oliver? Hmm? Find another school? I can't even begin to imagine what your permanent record looks like. Can you even get into another school? Or is Hilton your last resort?"

Oliver stiffens. "Why would you assume this my last resort? Maybe I just wanted a taste of the American dream."

Brawn meet brain.

"Well, let's see." A knowing smile creeps up on my face as recount the facts. "You transferred to a new school for senior year which no one does voluntarily unless their family relocates. Seeing as you're living with your aunt, that means your parents aren't in the country, which I can only assume means they forced you to move to America, probably because they got sick and tired of your shit. Am I close?"

"Maybe my parents are dead," Oliver counters, his eyes combative. "Ever think about that? Maybe they tragically passed away in a fire and I was the sole survivor forced to leave everything I knew behind and voyage to a strange land full of crazy girls who won't leave me alone."

"Okay, well, I almost felt bad until that last part," I say with a smug smile. "You kind of fucked yourself with a little too much embellishment. Good try, though. Commendable effort, but I think I'm correct."

Something unreadable briefly flashes across Oliver's face before he leans down so that we're eye-to-eye. "I'm going to say this one last time," he states. "Leave me out of your idiotic games. I'm not interested. You're on your own."

"Fine!" I exclaim. "I don't need you anyway. I can remedy this situation all by myself. Watch me."

Oliver smirks. "Yeah? That's great. I'm looking forward to seeing your great plan unfold. Maybe I'll bring some popcorn to watch."

I bite my lip. How in the fuck am I supposed to fix this?! God, please don't make me beg.

"Can you-" I clear my throat. "Can you just not say anything to anyone? Like if someone asks you if we're - you know- maybe just change the subject?"

"Seeing as I don't know anyone at this school, let alone in the entire country, that shouldn't be a problem," he says, his tone low, almost sad. "If people ask, why don't you just tell them we broke up. Tell them I cheated on you or something. I don't care. Just-" He sighs. "Do whatever you want."

"So then I can become the girl who got cheated on after dating a guy for two days?" I ask, shaking my head. "No, that's how rumors start. You don't know how this school operates, Oliver."

"Well, that's not my problem," he says, shrugging. "I'm sure the supposed brightest girl in our class can come up with a solution, no?"

I grumble at the absurdity of it all. Why? Why did I kiss him?! What is wrong with me? Stupid. Idiot. Fucking dumbass.

"Yeah, I'll figure it out," I murmur. "I always do."

"Hang in there, love," he smirks. "I'm sure another scandal will come along shortly and outshine yours."

"This is not a scandal," I state. "This is merely an inconvenience."

Lies. This is bad. I'm sure Hilton Hears will be blasting this out soon.

"Call it what you will but you're on your own," he says turning on his heel. "See ya around."

"Yeah, I got that!" I call out after him. "Thanks for nothing, Oliver! And I won't be seeing you around!"

He pauses half way down the hallway and cranes his neck towards me, an inquisitive glow in his eyes. "And why not?"

"Because I only take AP classes, love," I spew. "And you're clearly below average. So I guess I'll see you never."

"Well, isn't this just the best news I've gotten all day," he muses with a grin. "I've never been so happy to be below average before." He tosses me a wink, his greenish-grey eyes bright with humor. "Bye, Kenny."

"Whatever," I mutter under my breath before storming back to my dorm room.

The audacity of that boy! I offer him an olive branch and he snaps it in half! I get that we just met today and that he doesn't owe me anything but am I really asking for that much?! Two months of holding my hand for ten seconds every few days? A couple of staged photos for social media? Is that so hard to do?

Infuriating!

He wouldn't be caught dating a girl like me?! What am I? A fucking leper? No, I may not be as hot and 'out there' as Corrine and her bitchy band of bimbos but I'm cute! I get catcalled! God, I hate him.

Is this whole situation my fault? Yes. Did I bring this on myself? Yes. But Oliver is just as guilty for not correcting Sawyer. He kindled the fire. Blew on it with his stupid British lips!

"Ayy!" Maxine sings, her legs thrown up on her desk as I enter our dorm room. "Where've you been, girl?"

"In fucking hell!" I slam the door shut and pounce on my bed, screaming into my satin pillow.

"Uh-" Max stammers as I prop myself up and sit cross-legged. "Care to explain that?"

"No," I state in a huff. "Why are you even here? I thought you got detention?"

Max shrugs. "Rothy decided to give me and Corn a warning and let us go. Apparently, he's grown soft this summer and I plan to take heavy advantage."

I frown. Great, this means Sawyer and Corrine are probably gossiping about me as we speak. "This is the worst day ever, Max. Ever. In the history of days, this one is the worst."

"Or it's the best day 'cause you got to lock lips with a hot piece of ass,'' Max muses, wiggling her eyebrows. "Oliver is smokin'. Does he taste good? Like an ashtray? He looks like he smokes."

"Ew," I cringe. "He's not a hot piece of ass, Max. He's just an ass." I pause and mutter under my breath. "A useless ass that won't help me."

"Help you with what?" Max asks, jumping on my bed, staring at me with eager eyes. "With what? With what?"

Ugh. Fucking sonic hearing over here. I give Max the play-by-play of our encounter with Sawyer, emphasizing that Oliver went along with my charade until push came to shove.

"Oh, shit, dude," Max says, scratching her head. "That's awkies as fuck."

"Uh- yeah, it is," I say, reaching for my cell phone and pulling up the Hilton Hears app, dreading the latest update. The fact that the administrators can't shut down an app that posts recent school gossip just goes to show how grossly incompetent this entire institution is.

"Anything new?" Max asks, peering over at my screen. "The last update was about Zeek."

I bite my lip as the screen loads.

We hear that: Ezekiel Jones had to go on a payment plan for tuition. It must be so hard being broke now. Maybe he can sell some of his Jordans. Or sell something else...

"Who runs this shit?" I mutter, scrolling to the next update.

No...

We hear that: golden girl Kennedy Carmichael has found herself a new beau. Only two months after getting her stone-cold heart broken by one of Hilton's finest, Ken-Ken is apparently ready for a British Invasion. What's that sound? Oh, it's a cherry popping.

My heart hammers in my chest as I reread the update. "Fuck," I whisper, my eyes welling up. "Max..."

The last time my name was on this app, I was fifteen and being called a thief. For the longest time, I thought it was Corrine who managed the app but that was before they posted about her sleeping with two guys in one night. I don't think she'd do that to herself.

Whoever is in charge, has just single-handedly fucked up my whole life. Or I did by being a jealous spiteful moron. Maybe Oliver was right, maybe I should go talk to Mrs. Quinn. I clearly need help.

"It's okay! We'll figure something out," Maxine reassures, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "It'll be fine. Just don't freak out."

"Everyone is going to see this, Max!" I exclaim. "And when they find out that we're not actually dating, it's going to get worse. Either I'll get called a slut for making out with a guy I barely know or they'll call me an attention whore for lying. There's no winning here."

"Or maybe no one will care," Maxine offers softly. "Maybe no one-"

"Max," I say, taking a deep breath. "This is Hilton. Everyone cares. Everyone."

"So what're you going to do?"

My eyes dart towards the pile of textbooks on my desk. "I'm going to study before classes start in two days and my life falls apart. There's nothing else I can do."

There's no point in crying or dwelling. It is what it is. I'll just keep going about my day as if nothing happened. As if I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my young life. It's okay.

"Ken...maybe you should just take a couple of days to relax."

"No," I say, walking over to my desk and taking a seat. I pull out the bottom drawer and count the tablets. Shit. Only ten left. "Max?"

"Yeah?"

"When's your next refill?"

"No, Kenny. No more. You don't need them." Maxine frowns, shaking her head. "You promised you were done."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, whatever. I'll just ration it accordingly." I laugh inwardly. That's not going to be possible.

Maybe I'll talk to Zeek.

_____________________

BIG YIKES. Kenny girl, what did you dooooo???? Oliver, come on now! Help a girl out!

THOUGHTS?

Max tryna help Ken like: