💌 HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN TEN HATE-TEXTS

CHAPTER 4: MISTLETOE TRAP

Part 2: THE ALMOST-KISS

Rule #3: No actually catching feelings. (Too late.)

The Valentine’s Day dance committee meeting was going exactly as expected:

Badly.

Asher had taped printed spreadsheets to the wall like some corporate overlord. I’d countered by replacing all his bullet points with "I ❤ June" doodles.

"Real mature, Vega," he said, plucking a doodle off the wall.

"Thanks, I try." I kicked my boots up on the table. "So what’s next? Balloons? Sparklers? A live performance of you admitting I’m right?"

"Decorations," he said, ignoring me. "We’re doing a winter wonderland theme."

I choked on my soda. "Excuse me? We agreed on ‘Anti-Love Club’—black lights, punk bands, a literal wall where people can scribble their ex’s worst traits—"

"We didn’t agree on anything." He tossed me a bag of silver tinsel. "And you lost the bet, remember?"

"The bet’s not over yet, Cole."

He smirked. "Then prove it."

That’s when Mackenzie Lee—Asher’s ex and the human embodiment of a glitter bomb—strutted in.

"Aw, look at you two playing couple," she cooed, flicking her perfectly curled hair. "So cute. And fake."

Asher stiffened. I, however, saw an opportunity.

"Babe," I said sweetly, grabbing Asher’s arm, "didn’t you say Mackenzie cried during Toy Story 3?"

Mackenzie’s face went scarlet. "I was twelve—"

"And still scared of clowns?" Asher added smoothly, playing along. His hand slid to my waist. "June’s brave. She loves clowns."

(Lie. I once punched a mascot at a carnival.)

Mackenzie huffed and flounced out. The second she was gone, I shoved Asher away. "Okay, brave was pushing it—"

"You started it." He reached above me to untangle the tinsel, boxing me in against the table. "Besides, you’re a terrible liar. Your ears turn red."

"They do not—"

That’s when I saw it.

A sprig of mistletoe taped to the ceiling.

Oh no.

Asher followed my gaze. His smirk turned lethal. "Well, well. Tradition says—"

"Tradition can choke." I ducked under his arm, but he caught my wrist.

"Scared, Vega?"

"Of you? Please." I yanked free, but my traitorous heart was racing. "We’re pretending, remember?"

"Then pretend to like me." He stepped closer.

I stepped back. My hips hit the table.

His eyes dropped to my lips.

And for one terrifying, electric second—

The door slammed open.

"Am I interrupting something?" Principal Hayes arched a brow.

We sprang apart like guilty criminals.

"Nope!" I said, way too loud.

"Just debating music," Asher said, straightening his shirt.

Hayes looked between us. "Uh-huh. Well, debate quieter. The chess club says you’re ‘disturbing their focus.’"

She left. Silence throbbed between us.

Asher cleared his throat. "So. Winter wonderland?"

"Over my dead body."

But my voice cracked. And that was the real betrayal.

---

CHAPTER 5: THE JEALOUSY TEST

New Rule: No staring at his lips. Ever.

The next day, Mackenzie struck back.

I walked into the cafeteria to find her perched on Asher’s lap, feeding him fries like some rom-com villain.

"Oh, June," she simpered. "Don’t worry, we’re just catching up."

Asher, the traitor, didn’t push her off. Just raised a brow at me like "Your move."

Challenge accepted.

I slid into the seat beside him, snatched a fry, and bit into it slowly. "Babe, you know I like mine saltier."

His eyes darkened. "Noted."

Mackenzie’s smile faltered. "You two are disgusting."

"Thanks!" I leaned into Asher’s side. "We practice."

His arm hooked around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "Daily."

Mackenzie stormed off. The second she was gone, I elbowed Asher in the ribs. "You enjoyed that."

"You bit that fry like you wanted to murder it." He grinned. "Kinda hot."

I choked. "Shut up."

"Make me."

And that’s when Ben Mitchell decided to reappear.

"So," he said, sliding into Mackenzie’s vacant seat, "you two for real now?"

Asher’s grip on my shoulder tightened. "Why? You interested?"

Ben held up his hands. "Nah, just surprised. June’s usually into guys who don’t breathe."

Wow.

I kicked Ben under the table. "And you’re into girls who have pulse. Yet here we are."

Asher snorted. Ben left, muttering.

Silence. Then:

"You were into him, huh?" Asher said casually.

"Past tense." I fiddled with my ring. "He asked me out as a dare. I set his backpack on fire."

"Accidentally?"

"Depends who’s asking."

Asher laughed—a real, unguarded sound that did weird things to my stomach. "Remind me not to piss you off."

"Too late."

But I was smiling.

Crap.

---

CHAPTER 6: THE SLIP-UP

Rule #4: No nicknames. (Especially not cute ones.)

By Friday, we were a school-wide spectacle.

Our fake relationship had its own meme page.
People took bets on when we’d "break up."
Even my mom texted me: "So is Asher the one you threatened to duct-tape to a bus?"

Worst of all? The act was getting… easy.

Too easy.

Like when Asher tugged my hoodie strings to steer me away from a rogue dodgeball.
Or when I absentmindedly fixed his crooked collar.
Or when he called me "Junes" in front of the entire debate team—

Wait.

"Did you just—" I whirled on him after class.

"What?" He blinked, all fake innocence.

"You nicknamed me."

"It’s shorter."

"It’s lame." I poked his chest. "And against the rules."

He caught my finger. "You literally called me ‘Ash’ yesterday."

"That was sleep deprivation!"

"Admit it." He stepped closer, grinning. "You’re starting to like me."

"I’d like you better with duct tape over your mouth."

But my face was burning. And his smile softened, just for a second—

Then the bell rang.

Saved by the worst timing ever.

 PART 3: THE KISS & THE LIE

Part 1 of this story