The Player and His Fake Girlfriend

The blare of a car horn jolted you into action. You raced down the stairs, the familiar scent of your home fading behind you. Outside, Logan's car idled at the curb, a waiting presence. Sliding into the passenger seat, you offered a greeting, a small "Hi," as he leaned over to peck your cheek, the usual warmth somehow diminished. He started the engine, the low hum a counterpoint to the growing unease in your stomach. The ten-minute drive to school felt longer than usual. He was distant again, cancelling dates, always busy. You shook off the unsettling thoughts as you stepped out of the car, the familiar facade of Preston High looming before you. He said he had to see his science teacher, another excuse, another cancellation. "See you at lunch, okay?" His words felt hollow. "Okay," you replied, watching him walk away, a knot tightening in your chest. Something wasn't right.
