The Girl Next Door

22. One of the Boys

Alex's POV

It was a new day, but I couldn't shake the weight of the agreement from last night. I had willingly agreed to be Astrid's fake boyfriend, and today was the beginning of our scheme. The word alone made it feel surreal, like I was part of some rom-com plotline I hadn't signed up for.

The plan was simple: fetch her grandparents at the airport and convince them we were a couple. Easy, right? Wrong. Astrid's grandparents weren't just overbearing; they were coming into this worried about her because of her mom's mental health struggles. I got it—they just wanted to protect her—but the idea of pretending to be the perfect boyfriend felt like stepping into a role I wasn't sure I could play.

First, though, there was school. English Lit. And right now, I was supposed to be paying attention to Mr. Bruno rambling about The Great Gatsby. But how could I focus when Astrid was sitting right behind me?

I could feel her presence—like, actually feel it. Every time she shifted in her chair, every time her pen tapped lightly against her notebook. It was unnerving in a way I couldn't explain.

Matt, sitting beside me, was actually tuned into Mr. Bruno's analysis about Gatsby's obsession with Daisy. Of course, Matt was the kind of guy who could tune out the rest of the world when it came to academics. Me? Not so much.

I glanced back over my shoulder, pretending to stretch, and caught Astrid mid-scribble in her notebook. Her hair fell loosely around her face, and she looked so focused, like she wasn't about to spend the rest of the day pretending to be someone's girlfriend.

She must've felt my gaze because she glanced up and locked eyes with me. For a split second, we just stared at each other, and then she raised an eyebrow.

Astrid: whispering "What?"

Alex: leaning back slightly, whispering back "You seem... oddly calm for someone about to pull off the con of the century."

She smirked, a small, knowing curve of her lips.

Astrid: "You're the one who agreed to this, remember?"

I rolled my eyes, turning back to face the front. The sound of Mr. Bruno's droning voice filled the room, but I wasn't really listening. Instead, I found myself thinking about the details of the plan—how convincing I'd have to be, how close we'd have to act. It wasn't the kind of thing you could just wing.

A small folded piece of paper slid onto my desk, disrupting my train of thought. I glanced back to see Astrid giving me an innocent look before turning her attention back to her notebook.

I unfolded the note. Her handwriting was neat and precise: "Stop overthinking. Just be yourself. Grandparents love that."

I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me. Of course she'd know I was overthinking this.

I grabbed my pen and scribbled back: "Being myself isn't exactly boyfriend material, Astrid."

I passed the note back discreetly, waiting for her response. It didn't take long.

When the paper landed back on my desk, I read her reply: "Good thing I don't need a real boyfriend, then. Just don't be weird."

I bit back a grin, shaking my head slightly. Don't be weird. Easier said than done when you're suddenly fake dating the girl sitting behind you.

The bell rang, and Mr. Bruno dismissed us with a reminder about some essay due next week. I barely heard it. As I gathered my stuff, Astrid was already waiting by the door, leaning casually against the frame like she didn't have a care in the world.

Astrid: teasing "Ready for the performance of your life, Alex?"

Alex: smirking as I joined her "If I embarrass you, it's on you for picking me."