Chapter 10 Sacred Ground
Mia's POV
"How was your day?" Josh asked the second I stepped behind the kitchen counter, tying on my apron.
The dinner rush was in full swing, plates clattering and waiters shouting over the din. The air smelled like garlic, oil, and exhaustion. But I did not mind. I wanted the extra hours. I needed them. Mrs. Rodriguez still had not been fully paid, and I planned to graduate with dignity, not debt.
"It was... manageable," I said, sliding a tray of garlic bread onto my arm. "Yours?"
Josh made a face like he had just swallowed spoiled milk. "Oh, you know. Mild panic, parental trauma, and a touch of identity crisis. The usual."
I blinked. "What happened?"
"My parents are flying this weekend," he groaned. "And I may or may not have told them I have a girlfriend."
"You what?" I nearly dropped the bread. "Josh, why on earth—"
"Would you rather I give my conservative, golf-playing, Rolex-wearing father a heart attack by introducing my actual love life?" he snapped, then slumped against the counter dramatically. "His only son?"
I stared at him, speechless for a beat. Then sighed. "Josh..."
"I know, I know," he said quickly, running a hand through his perfectly gelled hair. "It is dumb. But I panicked. They are already disappointed that I did not get into law school. If I also tell them I like boys and spend my evenings with a beauty regimen, they will probably disown me via group chat."
Despite myself, I laughed. "You are ridiculous."
Josh glanced at me. "So... you wanna be my fake girlfriend for, like, forty-eight hours?"
"What?"
"Kidding!" he said quickly, holding up his hands. "Sort of. I mean... unless you are into elaborate emotional theatre and free takeout."
I rolled my eyes but smiled. "I can barely afford real drama in my life, Josh."
He gave me a look, half fond, half sad. "Yeah. I know."
We both paused.
Josh was the one who always made me feel like a girl again, not a soldier. He touched up my brows with surgical precision, trimmed my hair like it was royalty, and gave me free masks when my skin flared from stress. He offered me lipsticks I always declined, because he needed to save, too. And because I had learned not to take more than I could repay.
"I have got your back," I said finally, nudging his shoulder. "Even if I am not the girlfriend your dad wants to meet."
Josh smirked. "Please. You would be too good for him anyway."
"Do not worry, my parents are down to earth. They will not judge you for your family background. I promise," Josh said as he passed me a tray of freshly prepped salads behind the counter.
I smiled faintly, grateful, not just for his words, but for his presence. Josh always made the weight on my chest a little easier to carry. Even when the world felt sharp around the edges, Josh smoothed it out like foundation over a scar.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Mia?" Josh asked, lowering his voice like he was afraid the walls might overhear. "Tell me I do not need to start looking for a hired girlfriend just to survive a weekend with my parents."
I smiled at him, the kind that came easily only with Josh.
"Of course," I said without hesitation. "How could I say no to my best friend?" I leaned against the counter, folding my arms. "You are the only person in this world who never walked away from me. The only one who stayed when it would have been easier not to." I met his eyes. "I would do anything for you, Josh. As long as it does not involve money. You already know how spectacularly broke I am."
His grin widened, relief washing over his face like he had just exhaled for the first time all day.
"Thank you," he said softly. "You are a lifesaver. I mean it." Then his tone brightened. "And do not worry. I will absolutely treat you to a spa day after our fake performance. Facial, massage, the whole thing."
I giggled, shaking my head. "You do not need to bribe me."
"I am not bribing," he insisted. "I am compensating emotional labor."
"Believe me," I said, nudging his arm, "I want to do this for you. Besides, I have been dying to meet your family. You talk about them like they are a reality show I never get tired of hearing about." I tilted my head, teasing. "And you do not need to worry. I know almost everything about you. Even your darkest secrets."
Josh gasped dramatically. "I trusted you with those."
"And I guarded them with my life," I said, smiling. "Your parents will never suspect a thing. I know your habits, your stories, your lies, your tells. I know how you drink your coffee, how you panic when you overthink, and how you pretend not to care when you care too much." I paused, then added gently, "I can play your girlfriend convincingly because I already play the role of someone who loves you."
His smile softened, something unspoken flickering across his face.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I knew asking you was the right choice."
And for a moment, standing there beside him, I felt something rare and steady. Not fear or pressure. Just the comfort of knowing that for once, I was choosing something out of loyalty, not desperation. And that felt good.
It had been three days since official classes began. I stepped into the classroom, my backpack slung over one shoulder, already bracing myself for another day of pretending not to exist.
And then I Liam Alcaraz, sprawled in the seat beside mine like it belonged to him. Like he belonged anywhere.
He looked up, flashing that jaw-dropping smile that could probably stop traffic. "Good morning," he said, casual and warm.
I mumbled a barely audible "Morning," my eyes fixed on the floor as I slid into my chair, avoiding his gaze entirely.
I could feel the tension between us, I did not dare to look up. Because I knew people were already staring. And Liam was not like me. He was the guy everyone wanted to sit with, to talk with and to be seen beside.
If I so much as acknowledged him, the whispers would start. They would say I was delusional. That I was reaching for something I had no right to touch. And worse, they would say it would only end badly for him.
I would not do that to him. So I stayed quiet. I kept my eyes forward, my shoulders squared, pretending I did not feel his presence like a pull I was trying very hard to resist. Pretending my heart did not react every time he was near.
When lunch break finally came, I slipped out quickly. I headed to my usual sanctuary, the old tree behind the science building. It was my corner of peace. Hidden from curious eyes. Untouched by rumors, laughter, or judgment. Just me, my books, and the silence that never demanded anything from me.
But as I rounded the corner, my steps slowed.
Liam was there, sat beneath my tree like he belonged there too, his back resting against the trunk, long legs stretched out in a way that screamed careless confidence.
His uniform shirt was untucked just enough to annoy the strict dress code, his sleeves rolled up like he had no intention of following rules he never asked for. When he looked up and saw me, his expression softened instantly.
He lifted a paper bag and smiled. "Hey," he said. "I was hoping you would talk to me now that we are not surrounded by people."
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag. I hesitated, my instincts screaming caution while something warmer fluttered in my chest.
"What is that?" I asked, nodding toward the bag.
He offered the bag to me, his fingers brushing the edge nervously. "Lunch. I asked our maid to pack something homemade. I wanted to share it with you."
I blinked, surprised, then looked back at him. "You did not have to—"
"I know," he interrupted gently. "I wanted to."
I sat down slowly, a careful distance between us, like proximity alone might be too dangerous.
"I just thought," he continued, his voice softer now, "maybe you would let me stay. I get it if you do not want the company. But if this is your safe spot, I promise I will treat it like sacred ground."
My chest tightened as heat rushed to my cheeks and I hated how easily he unraveled me. I hated that smile. Those dimples that appeared like he did not even know the power they held. Those storm eyes that looked at me like I was something worth paying attention to.
And I hated it most of all because, for a brief second, it felt good. Like someone actually chose me, not for what I could give. Not for what they could take. Not out of pity or obligation.
"You sure you want to be seen with me?" I asked, my tone light but my heart anything but.
Liam leaned back on his elbows, the corner of his mouth lifting into a familiar smirk. "I think I will survive." And for the first time that day, I let myself smile.