Red Flags in the Rearview

Chapter I: The Game

Reymark leaned back in his chair, a smug grin plastered across his face as he sipped his iced coffee. “Seven out of ten,” he declared, nodding toward the brunette walking past the café window. “Nice hair, but those shoes? Tragic.”

Rayne smirked, stirring his drink with his straw. “Five. Too much makeup. Trying too hard.”

“Cold, man. You’ve got no taste.”

“And you’ve got no standards,” Rayne shot back, laughing.

This was their game. Every Saturday afternoon, they claimed a table at their favorite café with a clear view of the busy sidewalk. Girls walked by, and the two self-proclaimed connoisseurs of “the finer things” in life passed their judgments like some kind of deranged jury.

It wasn’t that they didn’t like women—they liked them too much. Just not enough to bother with little things like depth or respect.

“Alright, your turn,” Reymark said, gesturing toward the door.

Rayne turned just as two girls walked in. One was petite with jet-black hair and sharp eyes that seemed to scan the room like a detective searching for clues. The other was taller, with wavy auburn hair, a carefree smile, and a confidence that made her stand out without even trying.

“Interesting,” Rayne murmured. “I’d say… an eight for the tall one. Confident, but a little too quirky. And a six for the short one—cute, but looks like trouble.”

“Quirky? Dude, that’s personality. And trouble’s my middle name.” Reymark stood, adjusting his leather jacket. “Watch and learn.”

Rayne rolled his eyes as Reymark strolled over to the girls, who had just settled at the counter. His signature grin was already in place, the kind of smile that had worked on countless girls before.

“Hey there,” Reymark said, leaning casually against the counter. “Saw you walk in and thought I’d come say hi. I’m Reymark, by the way.”

The taller girl raised an eyebrow, her smile widening in amusement. “Hi, Reymark. I’m Jhenny. And this is Lianne.”

Lianne barely glanced at him, focusing instead on her drink menu. “Hi,” she said curtly.

Undeterred, Reymark pressed on. “You two look like you’re having a good day. Mind if my buddy and I join you? We’re always up for good company.”

Lianne finally looked at him, her dark eyes sharp. “Good company? Or just another chance to practice whatever lines you’ve been rehearsing in front of a mirror?”

Reymark blinked, momentarily thrown off. Behind him, Rayne snorted into his drink.

Jhenny laughed. “Lianne’s got a point. You seem… practiced.”

“Practiced? No way. I’m just naturally this charming.”

Lianne rolled her eyes. “Sure. And I’m naturally this patient.” She turned back to the menu, effectively dismissing him.

“Wow,” Reymark muttered as he backed off. “Tough crowd.”

Rayne, never one to let Reymark’s failure slide without comment, joined him at the girls’ table. “Sorry about my friend here,” he said, flashing his own grin. “He’s not used to people calling him out.”

“And you are?” Lianne asked, her tone skeptical.

Rayne laughed. “Touché.”

Jhenny, meanwhile, seemed to be enjoying the exchange. “Alright, boys. If you’re going to keep bothering us, at least make it interesting. Let’s play a game.”

Rayne’s eyebrows shot up. “A game?”

“Yeah,” Jhenny said, leaning forward. “You two think you’re so smooth, right? Let’s see if you can survive being the kind of guys you pretend to be. One week of being perfect boyfriends—no games, no lines, no objectifying.”

Lianne’s lips curled into a smirk. “And if you fail, you owe us a public apology. Preferably while doing something humiliating.”

Reymark crossed his arms, intrigued despite himself. “And if we win?”

Jhenny shrugged. “Then you earn a real date. But trust me, you won’t win.”

Rayne and Reymark exchanged a look. A challenge was a challenge, and neither of them knew how to back down.

“You’re on,” Reymark said, grinning.

“Deal,” Rayne added.

Jhenny and Lianne exchanged a knowing glance, the kind that said they’d just set a trap—and the boys had walked right into it.