2. "Fake Dates and Real Drama"

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I sat on the sand, watching the waves crash onto the shore, the rhythmic sound almost soothing—almost. Hector stood next to me, shifting nervously, and for good reason.

"I knew this was for something. You're never nice to me," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the horizon, refusing to look at him.

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "Well... yeah. There's a reason."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. "Spit it out."

He shifted again, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's this girl. She's, uh, really pretty. I think I'm falling for her."

I had to laugh at that. The idea of Hector standing here, pouring his heart out to *me* of all people, was ridiculous. We weren't even on speaking terms half the time, unless we were bickering.

"Oh, it's about a girl? Great. So why do you need *me*?" I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. The whole thing was absurd. Hector, the guy who constantly annoyed me, asking for my help with some girl he liked? That was rich.

"You're the only girl she knows, and she's always asking about you," he started, his voice picking up pace. "She thinks there's something going on between us. I know we hate each other, but if we pretend to be together, maybe it'll make her jealous, and she'll fight for me. Just for a little while." He looked at me with desperate eyes, hoping I'd bite.

I blinked, utterly dumbfounded. Hector, my sworn enemy, wanted me to pretend to be his girlfriend? The very idea was laughable.

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "Who is this girl?"

He hesitated for just a second too long before answering. "Martina Díaz."

That name hit me like a slap. Martina Díaz. Of *course* it was her. The same girl who had tormented me for years, made fun of me, bullied me relentlessly. She was the last person I wanted to be involved with in any way. And now Hector, of all people, was asking me to help him win *her* over?

I stood up, glaring at him. "Are you *fucking* kidding me? *Her*? You want me to help you get *her*?"

Hector flinched, clearly not expecting the outburst. "Look, I know she's not exactly the nicest person—"

"The nicest person?" I cut him off, incredulous. "She's a *bitch*, Hector. She made my life a living hell. And you want me to *help* you make her jealous? Have you lost your mind?"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I didn't know she was that bad to you. I just thought... I don't know, you're the only one she seems to care about, in some twisted way. If we pretend to be together, maybe she'll realize she wants me."

I stared at him for a long moment, feeling the rage simmer inside me. Martina had always been so smug, so convinced she was better than me, that I was beneath her. She thought she could walk all over me. And now, here was my chance—my opportunity to turn the tables.

A plan started to form in my head, one that was sweeter than any revenge I could've imagined. If Hector wanted to play games with Martina's feelings, then fine. But I'd make sure that in the end, it was *me* who came out on top.

Slowly, I smirked, feeling a new sense of power wash over me. "Alright, Hector. I'll help you."

His face lit up with relief. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said, stepping closer to him. "But on one condition. We do this *my* way. If we're going to pretend to be together, we're going all in. No half-assed attempts. Martina has to believe it."

Hector nodded eagerly. "Whatever it takes."

I crossed my arms, feeling satisfaction settle in my chest. "Good. Because if this is going to work, I'm not just going to make her jealous. I'm going to make her *suffer*."

Hector blinked, suddenly unsure, but it was too late. He'd asked for my help, and now he was going to get it. Only this time, it wouldn't be Martina pulling the strings. It would be me.

And revenge? Well, it was already tasting sweeter than I ever imagined.

It's always you. - Hector FortWhere stories live. Discover now