The Almost Date
Jay stared at the message on her phone for the third time, wondering if it was some kind of trap.
Keifer: Want to go out tonight? Just us.
She hadn't replied. She thought maybe if she just ignored it, the universe would take the hint and delete it for her. But no, five minutes later, her phone buzzed again.
Keifer: Relax. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage. Just food. You eat, right?
She sighed. Unfortunately.
She found him waiting by the school gate after practice, hair still damp, shirt sleeves rolled up, like he'd just stepped out of one of those ridiculous Wattpad stories. And worse? He knew it.
"You didn't say no," he said when she walked up to him.
"I didn't say yes either."
"Your feet are here. I take that as consent."
Jay gave him a look, but Keifer just smirked and nodded toward his car. "Let's go."
"Seriously?" she asked as they pulled up to the quiet little ramen place on the edge of town.
"No one from school comes here," he said, already sliding out of the driver's seat. "And their gyoza slaps."
Jay hesitated before following him in. The place was warm, the kind of cozy that made you forget your last three existential crises. They got a booth by the window, and for the first time since the whole fake dating thing started, it felt…almost real.
Keifer picked up a pair of chopsticks and pointed them at her. "Don't fall for me tonight. I'm dangerous after carbs."
Jay rolled her eyes. "Please. You're like a walking red flag buffet."
"Oh?" He leaned forward, grinning. "Then why are you still here?"
Jay froze for a second. Her heart stuttered. Then she shrugged, pretending her insides weren't melting. "Because I'm hungry, not stupid."
They ate. They laughed. She even beat him in a chopstick duel — which he absolutely cheated at, but let her win anyway.
Then they walked along the sidewalk under cheap fairy lights strung between shop signs, plastic cups of milk tea in hand.
"You know," Keifer said, "you keep looking at me like that, and you might end up catching feelings."
Jay snorted. "What if I already did?"
He turned to her then — quiet, unreadable. And for a second, she swore the world paused. But then he just smiled, slow and lazy.
"Then I guess I'd better not mess this up."
Keifer dropped her off just after ten, headlights casting long shadows across her lawn.
Jay lingered at the car door, one hand on the handle, the other still holding her milk tea.
"This was… not awful," she said.
He smirked. "You're welcome. Don't dream about me too much."
She rolled her eyes, stepped out, and slammed the door — but her smile lingered all the way to her room.
Ten minutes later, she was on the floor of her room, staring at the ceiling, phone pressed to her ear.
"He picked you up in his car?" her best friend, Yuki, practically screeched. "And you let him feed you?"
"Yuki, it's not a big deal."
"You're fake dating, not fake honeymooning!"
Jay groaned and rolled onto her stomach. "It was chill. Quiet. No drama."
"Exactly," Yuki said. "That's how it starts. First it's 'chill,' next thing you know you're making out behind the library and naming your future kids."
Jay threw a pillow at the wall. "I'm not in love with him."
There was a pause.
"Jay…you named your milk tea after him last week."
"It was a joke!"
"You called it Kei-bubble Love Supreme."
Jay hung up.
And screamed into her pillow.