Chapter Text
Lori Granger hadn't seen Tiffany Falconer in over three years.
Not since highschool.
Not since the day she packed a single suitcase, left Shadyside behind, and promised herself she'd never, ever think about that smug, perfect girl again.
So naturally, Tiffany walked into Lori's Bookstore on a Tuesday.
Lori was shelving new arrivals- reprints of Sylvia Plath, a few dusty first editions she'd scoured from a weird auction in New Hampshire- and had just placed a The Bell Jar hardcover on the top shelf when she heard the door chime.
She turned.
The bell above the door jingled once, twice.
Then there she was
Tiffany Falconer.
In a pantsuit.
A really expensive pantsuit.
And heels. And glowing skin. And her signature chestnut waves perfectly styles in a way that probably took effort, but somehow still looked like an accident of godly genetics.
Lori's brain short-circuited.
"Hi", Tiffany said, her voice lighter than Lori remembered. "You work here?"
Lori blinked. "I own it"
Tiffany paused. "Seriously?"
Lori crossed her arms. "Seriously"
And just like that, they were back in highschool again- except instead of the cafeteria, it was this tiny, overstuffed bookshop Lori had built from nothing, and instead of teenage insecurity, Lori had age, sarcasm, and a copy of Cather in the Rye she was pretty sure she could throw at a customer if needed.
Tiffany tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, looked around the store. "This place is cute"
"It's a bookstore, not a puppy." Lori said
Tiffany grinned. "Still cute."
Lori turned back to her shelf and tried to pretend she wasn't vibrating internally.
The thing about Tiffany Falconer was- she had always been kind of too much
Too pretty. Too smart. Too good at pretending to care about people when she didn't. She was the kind of girl who led pep rallies and got straight A's and still somehow made you feel like you were in her way just by existing.
Back in high school, Lori had watched her from across the stree- from across the cafeteria- and from behind her locker door, where she kept a folded piece of paper with Tiffanys name scrawled on it.
It was stupid. A crush Lori never let herself name.
Now, three years later, Tiffany was standing in her store.
And she was saying things like:
"So... would it be weird if i asked you for a favor?"
Lori turned. "Is this where you tell me the store's a front for something, and you need to bury a body?"
Tiffanys smile faltered. "No body. Just... pretend to be my girlfriend?"
Lori stared.
Then blinked.
Then blinked again.
"What?"
"Look a co worker of mine found out i was single and made some offhand joke about setting me up with her son, and i panicked and your name just came falling out of my mouth" Tiffany said in a hurried voice.
"You said you were dating me?" Lori asked, incredulous
"I panicked!" Tiffany cried. "I was trying to sound... like i had a real girlfriend! And everyone remembers you from high school. You're cool now."
"I was cool then."
"You were scary." Tiffany said.
"You're not wrong."
The silence that followed was thick. Then:
"You don't even like me," Lori said finally.
Tiffany tilted her head. "You don't even know me"
Lori scoffed. "I knew you well enough in high school."
"Maybe you only knew the version i let you see."
It hit Lori harder then it should have.
Because maybe that was true. Maybe she'd only seen the carefully curated Tiffany- the girl in charge, the girl who dated football players, the girl who flirted with everyone but never looked Lori in the eye for more than two seconds.
Lori folded her arms. "So let me get this straight: you want me to pretend to date you... for what? Work clout?"
"Yes.No.Not clout. Just... to shut them up. They act like being single is a disease"
"And i'm the cure."
Tiffany gave a small smile. "You were always out. Brave. Confident. You used to wear those combat books and those stupid butons on your jacket-"
"They were not stupid"
"I know. They were... cool"
Lori stared.
Tiffanys voice softened. "Ill pay you. Just dinner. A few appearances. Maybe one work event."
"You want me to be your girlfriend for hire."
"Only for like a week. Two weeks, max."
Lori hesitated.
Her heart was already screaming.
But her mouth- her stupid mouth, traitorous mouth- said, "Fine."
Three Days Later
Lori regretted everything.
She was standing in a wine bar she didn’t belong in, wearing lipstick she hadn’t used since her cousin’s wedding, and pretending to be on a date with the same girl who once called her “weird” in gym class for reading Dune during warmups.
Tiffany, naturally, looked flawless.
They sat across from each other in a candlelit booth, sipping something red and expensive, while Tiffany’s coworkers whispered and gawked.
“You’re good at this,” Lori said under her breath.
Tiffany shrugged. “Acting.”
Lori sipped her wine. “So you’re an actor and a lawyer?”
Tiffany’s eyes twinkled. “You wound me.
“You deserve it.”
Tiffany smiled.
And then, for a second, her hand brushed against Lori’s under the table.
Lori didn’t move.
And neither did Tiffany.
And it was stupid—just fingers—but Lori’s heart jumped.
This was fake.
Fake.
But it didn’t feel fake.
And that was the problem.