My Year in Chicago - Carl Gallagher

Je t'aime.

The confusion was eating me alive. I couldn't focus in class, couldn't sleep, and I couldn't think straight. Carl's words kept replaying in my head. *Maybe it doesn't have to be fake.* What did that even mean? Was he serious? Was he playing games?

I had to get answers. I had to know what this whole thing was about—whether Carl was still messing with me or if it was something more.

After school, I knew where to find him. Carl was always at the basketball court around this time, shooting hoops with his friends or practicing on his own. My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way through the neighborhood, my steps quick and determined.

I didn't care how desperate I looked. I needed to talk to him.

Sure enough, when I got to the court, Carl was there. Alone. He was dribbling the ball lazily, his eyes focused on the hoop as he practiced a few shots. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the concrete, and the street was mostly quiet, save for the occasional car driving by.

I stood there for a second, gathering my courage. This was going to be awkward—probably painful, too—but I had to do it.

"Carl!" I called out, walking toward him.

He looked up, surprised to see me. His face was unreadable at first, but then he gave me that smirk he always did—the one that made my heart do that annoying fluttery thing.

"Hey," he said, tossing the ball toward the hoop again. It bounced off the rim and rolled toward me.

I picked it up, holding it awkwardly as I walked closer. "We need to talk."

Carl raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About this." I motioned between us, trying to keep my voice steady. "This whole fake dating thing... I need to know what's really going on."

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "We're just doing what we planned, right? Making Lexi jealous, pissing her off. It's working."

"No," I said, my voice more firm than I expected. "It's not just that. Not anymore. You've been acting weird, Carl. Way more... real."

Carl sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked away for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to say.

I took a deep breath and continued, "I need to know if this is still a game to you. Or if... if you actually mean some of the things you've been doing."

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he grabbed the ball from my hands and dribbled it a few times, staring down at the ground. For a second, I thought he wasn't going to say anything, and my stomach twisted with nerves.

But then, he finally spoke.

"You want the truth?"

I nodded, my heart racing.

Carl stopped dribbling and looked up at me, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. "I never wanted to make Lexi jealous."

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"That was never the plan," Carl said, his voice low. "I didn't care about Lexi. I didn't care about getting back at her."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. "Then why...?"

Carl took a deep breath, like he was about to confess something he'd been holding in for a long time. "The only reason I went along with this whole fake dating thing was because I wanted to be with you."

My heart stopped. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"What?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Carl gave me a small, almost vulnerable smile. "Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, but I've liked you for a while, Anabelle. I just didn't know how to tell you. And I figured if I asked you out for real, you'd say no. So... I did this instead."

I couldn't believe it. Carl Gallagher—the guy who was supposed to be cold, distant, and not into real feelings—was standing in front of me, admitting that he'd been fake dating me because he actually *wanted* to date me.

"You're serious?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Carl nodded, his eyes meeting mine. "Yeah. I've never been more serious."

I didn't know what to say. I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. All this time, I thought we were just playing some stupid game to mess with Lexi, and now Carl was telling me that it had never been about her. It had always been about me.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I asked, my voice cracking a little. "Why go through all of this?"

Carl shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "I didn't think you'd want to date me. I mean, I'm not exactly the kind of guy you'd go for, right? So I figured this was the closest I could get."

I stared at him, completely speechless. The truth was, I hadn't even thought about dating Carl—not seriously, anyway. But now that he was standing here, opening up to me in a way I never expected, I didn't know what to think.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" I asked softly, my voice barely audible.

Carl sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't know. I guess I was scared you'd just laugh it off or something. You're different, Anabelle. You're not like the other girls I've messed around with. And I didn't want to screw it up."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. I had no idea what to say. Part of me wanted to be mad at him for keeping this from me, but another part of me was... relieved. Maybe even happy. Because now, everything made sense. The way Carl had been acting, the way he'd looked at me, the way he'd kissed me—it wasn't just an act.

It had never been just an act.

I took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, my heart pounding in my chest. "So... what happens now?"

Carl looked at me, his expression softening. "That's up to you."

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel confused anymore. I didn't feel like I was caught in some twisted game. Carl had laid everything out on the table, and now it was my turn to decide what I wanted.

And the truth was, I didn't want this to be fake anymore either.

I looked up at him, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me. "I think we stop pretending."

Carl smiled, and for the first time, it felt like everything was finally real between us.

"Deal."