14 years ago

"What's up, Four-Eyes?"

Keeping her head down and sighing, 14-year-old and semi-freakishly tall Summer ignored the unoriginal words of her lovely school peers and made a beeline for the only empty table at the cafeteria. She could hear the culprits - two idiot juniors, guys who thought they were cuter than they actually were - cackling at her expense as she ignored them, but she reminded herself that she was better than they were and that they could only get to her if she let them.

Unfortunately, most of the time, she did.

Before she could successfully hide at the empty table in the corner, the two idiots jogged over and poked her in the shoulder. Idiot 1, Caleb, stole her pudding cup off of her tray while Idiot 2, Joey, asked her with an exaggerated smile, "Wanna come sit with us, Funbags? We'll let you, as long as you put a bag over your head first."

She rolled her eyes and pushed past them, cheeks flaring up in a blush that she really wished would just go away, but no such luck. She wished that her older brother was around and not off in college 3,000 miles away, because he would have dislocated Joey's arm for calling her "Funbags".

Now one pudding cup lighter and her stomach tied in knots now thanks to the boys' antics, Summer finally made it to the empty table and sat as close to the wall as she could manage, keeping her head down and pushing her square-frame glasses up the bridge of her nose. She eyed her food with disinterest and sighed, wondering how much crying and fit-throwing it would take to convince her grandma to let her do homeschooling instead. Probably more than even she could reasonably keep up.

She had managed two bites of the mildly cold corn dog she'd grabbed for lunch when she looked up and saw something, or rather someone, that caught her eye. It was the new girl, Emily, she thought, or maybe it was Emma - Amy? Whatever her name was, the girl was standing there with her own tray, face somewhat hidden under the mess of hair on her head, looking around the tables with a look of quiet panic in her eyes that Summer could relate to all too well.

Nobody was gonna offer the girl a place to sit. She was already getting weird looks, and it was only a matter of time before Idiots 1 and 2 took notice and made the situation much worse.

So Summer took a chance and started waving in the new girl's direction. It took a few seconds, but when she finally looked Summer's way, Summer then gestured almost frantically for her to come and sit down with her. The girl blinked a few times but wasted no time in hurrying over, visibly relieved to have possibly found someone nice in the midst of a sea of jerks.

"Hi," Summer greeted the girl quietly as she sat down across from her. She gave her a smile, noticing the way the girl's hands were shaking a little as she set down the tray but not staring. "I'm Summer."

"Hello," the girl replied softly, with a distinctly English accent. "I'm Aemilia. Thank you for... doing that. And letting me sit with you."

Summer smiled again. "Yeah, you're welcome. This your first day?"

"Third," Aemilia sighed, brushing some of her wild auburn curls behind her ear. They weren't the refined sort of curls either, more frizz than anything else, which was in stark contrast to Summer's hopelessly limp black hair. "I've just been trying to just sort of... blend in."

"You mean hide," Summer replied. "I do that too. Every day. People here are jerks."

"They call me Queen Elizabeth," Aemilia frowned, her bright turquoise braces glimmering in the light as she spoke. "And say I smell like fish. I guess because they all assume I survive off fish and chips."

Summer sighed. Their schoolmates certainly weren't the best nor the brightest when it came to insults. "Well, you don't smell like fish to me."

Aemilia smiled and chuckled. "Good. Honestly, I don't even like fish."

"Make sure you bring your own lunch on fish sticks day, then," Summer helpfully supplied, laughing quietly when the other girl made a gross-out face.

After another moment or two, Aemilia tilted her head and asked curiously, "Why are you sitting here all alone?"

"Oh," Summer half-stuttered, "I'm... well... I, uh... nobody really... likes me, so..."

"Why not?" Aemilia furrowed her brows.

"Well," Summer sighed, "you can't tell right now 'cause I'm sitting down, but I'm 5'8 -"

Aemilia's eyes widened. "Whoa."

Summer cringed. "Yeah, I'm taller than like all the girls in my grade, and I've got these stupid glasses, and... uh..."

"What?"

Summer swallowed her pride and decided to just blurt it out. "I've got gigantic D-cups already. They all call me Funbags."

Aemilia glanced down at Summer's chest in confusion. "Really? But..."

"You can't tell because I'm wearing like three layers," Summer shrugged, gesturing to her blue and black flannel shirt and shapeless black t-shirt she had on beneath it. The flannel was actually her brother's old shirt, and it quite swallowed her up, but that was the point. "My first day I wore this sweater that I didn't realize was kind of... see through... and..."

"Oh no," Aemilia frowned, genuinely aghast for the other girl.

"Yep. And now I'm Funbags," Summer muttered. "I didn't even have these stupid things last year. I went from an A-cup to freaking Boobs McGee in three months."

Aemilia sighed. "I would take them from you if I could. I'm still waiting for most of the stuff that's supposed to come with puberty. But at least you don't have a weird accent."

Summer furrowed her brows and said, "Your accent's cool! You sound like you walked out of like... Harry Potter or something."

Aemilia's eyes then lit up at the mere mention of those last two words. "You like Harry Potter?"

"No," Summer gaped, "I love Harry Potter. I read all the books in a week."

"Me too!" Aemilia beamed. "Oh my gosh. Who's your favorite character?"

"Snape, hands down," Summer replied without hesitation. "He's just... he killed me. What about you?"

"Hmm, gosh," Aemilia said, pondering this most important question very seriously. "Probably Harry, honestly. Or Sirius."

"I cried when he died," Summer admitted. "Movie and book both."

"So did I," Aemilia replied. "Poor Harry finally had a piece of his family back for all of five minutes before he had to watch Sirius die."

"I know," Summer groaned sadly. "It's horrible. You know what else is horrible? Ron and Hermione being together."

Aemilia cringed. "They don't match at all! It's incredibly awkward."

"What would they even talk about?" Summer wondered aloud. "They have like nothing in common. It just doesn't work. Plus Ron looks like my brother, and that automatically makes him disgusting to me."

"You have a brother?" Aemilia asked with a smile, both girls eating bites of their food between words now that they weren't feeling quite so anxious or alone anymore. "I wish I had siblings, but I'm an only child."

"Oh, really? Well, my brother's 8 years older than me," Summer shrugged, "so he's away at college in California. And yeah, he looks like a Weasley."

"How?" Aemilia giggled. "You don't look at all like that yourself."

"Well, we're half Irish and half Jewish," Summer shrugged. "He got all the Irish genes and I got all the Jewish ones. He looks like my dad and I look like my mom."

"Oh," Aemilia smiled, quite toothy and noticeably so with her bright colored braces. "So your parents are still together?"

Summer paused, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything, but she forced herself to answer the girl anyway. "No, they, um... they died last year in a car accident."

Pure horror replaced the curiosity on Aemilia's face, and she dropped the food in her hand back to her tray as she said, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay, you had no way of knowing," Summer shrugged. "But yeah, that's... that's why I'm here. We lived in Virginia but my grandma lives up here in New York, so when I moved in with her I had to change schools." When she saw the still-embarrassed look on Aemilia's face, sympathetic but clearly feeling awful for bringing it up, Summer decided to try to steer the conversation elsewhere by asking, "Where'd you move from?"

"London," Aemilia replied quickly. "I grew up there. I really liked my school there, but my parents got divorced when I was ten and my mother met this American man and they got engaged, so... she moved us here."

"Yikes," Summer cringed. "Is he nice, at least? The guy?"

Aemilia shrugged. "Sort of just ignores me whenever I see him, really. He seems nice enough, but I think it's his money my mum likes."

"Oh," Summer nodded. "Dang. Well, I -" She glanced to her right and suddenly shut up, face turning red immediately and casting her eyes down, hair falling into her face and shielding it from the person she was suddenly hiding from.

Aemilia blinked. "Are you all right?"

Summer shook her head and gestured strangely with her hand, and Aemilia took it to mean shut up, so she did. When Summer peeked to her right again and found the coast clear, she sighed and straightened up again, letting out a relieved sigh.

"... What was that?" Aemilia asked, still not getting it.

"That was Jake," Summer whispered. "He's..."

"Mean?" Aemilia guessed. "A bully?"

"No, I've got a giant crush on him," Summer admitted, whispering those damning words. "He's at the table over there with his girlfriend, the blonde stick, and he's got dark hair and blue eyes and..."

Aemilia located the correct boy and quickly looked away, to avoid being obvious in her gawking. "Oh, I see. He's cute."

"He's beautiful," Summer groaned wistfully. "Seriously. He plays guitar and sings and he's just absolutely perfect."

Aemilia giggled and then asked, "Have you ever talked to him?"

"Oh God no!" Summer half-gasped, scandalized. "I hide whenever I see him."

"Why? What if he liked you more than the, ah... blonde stick?"

Summer rolled her eyes. "I'm a freshman, and I'm too skinny and too tall and I've got these stupid glasses and like five zits on my chin alone. Nobody likes me."

"Well, I like you," Aemilia replied. "Of all the people in this school, you're the nicest one I've met so far. Yesterday I ate in the bathroom."

Summer made a horrified face. "Oh, God!"

Aemilia cringed right back. "It was... disgusting. But my point is, I don't see what isn't to like about you."

Summer paused. "... Everything?"

Aemilia rolled her eyes, sighed and said, "Well, at least you don't have braces. And you might be tall, but I'm too short to fit properly into clothes made for girls our age, so everything looks weird. And my hair -"

"Your hair is awesome," Summer interrupted with wide eyes. "A little... frizzy, but the color is awesome."

"It's impossible," Aemilia shook her head. "Nothing I do to it calms it down. My mum bought me every anti-frizz product on the planet but when I walk outside and it's humid, it explodes. Like this," she plucked at a strand. "It's ridiculous."

"It's still awesome," Summer shrugged. "Better than my hair. My hair is just flat and dead. Still looks greasy even right after I wash it."

Aemilia eyed Summer's long black hair, currently piled into an admittedly limp ponytail, and she mused, "Perhaps if you teased it a bit... or curled it at the root. My mum has all kinds of tricks for hair. You should come over one day, and we can play with all her hair stuff."

Summer found herself genuinely smiling for the first time all day. "Really? That would be awesome! When?"

"Well, I have voice lessons after school today, but -"

"You do?!" Summer gaped. "Wait, you're a singer?"

Aemilia smiled shyly. "Well, I would like to be. I've been singing since I was little, and I really, really love it. My voice coach - well, my old one in London - said that I have one of the best voices of all her students, so..."

"Oh my gosh," Summer grinned excitedly, "you gotta let me hear you sing one of these days. That's awesome! I wanted to be a singer when I was little, actually, like it was my dream, but... when I sing, I sound kind of like a dying cat crossed with... you know that sound a fork makes when you scrape it on a plate the wrong way?"

Aemilia laughed. "I doubt you're that bad."

"No, I'm pretty bad," Summer shrugged. "But it's okay. I've accepted it. Now I wanna be a writer."

"Ooh! I like writing too," Aemilia smiled. "What do you want to write?"

"Well, I'm not really sure yet, I do kind of... already write... something, but it's not really..."

The bell ringing and announcing the end of lunch and the resuming of class cut Summer's words short. The girls both smiled and, as they stood up to begin gathering their things and tossing what food they hadn't eaten, Summer asked, "See you here tomorrow, same table?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Aemilia smiled, and Summer was starting to find that toothy, partially turquoise smile of hers to be kind of adorable. "Thank you again. For being nice to me."

Summer beamed and replied, "No, I should be thanking you for that. I'm not used to it at all."

"Well," Aemilia sighed, "at least now I can tell my mum later that I made a friend. And I mean it about coming over and playing her hair stuff."

"Oh, just name the time and I'll be there," Summer smiled.

Then the girls said their quiet goodbyes, and they both headed to their next classes feeling considerably better than they had all day. They felt a little less alone now that they had someone they could relate to a little bit, and they both hoped against hope that they really would end up being good friends.

They had no idea how right they truly were.

Fourteen blindingly fast years later, Summer and Aemilia were the best of friends and were still living in New York, chasing their dreams and accomplishing them in ways that their fourteen year old selves probably never would have believed were possible.

They had gone to college together and been by each other's sides through it all, through the parties and the boys they liked and the horrifying prospect of actually finding a job once they had earned their degrees. Aemilia stuck to singing and Summer pursued journalism, and by the sheer strength of their commitment to their passions, they found their places in the world doing what they loved.

When Summer graduated high school, she never looked back. She left that godforsaken place and all of its bullies behind, pretending that all of their name calling and verbal abuse never bothered her anyway, and she learned how to be okay with being herself. She was a dork at heart - and so was Aemilia - and she even eventually stopped wearing unflattering clothes and trying to hide her body. She got through college in one piece, finding the experience much more exhausting but generally much better than high school, and then she was lucky enough to land a job through an internship soon after that was pretty damn close to being a dream job.

Put simply, high school was the last thing Summer ever thought about, and it was also one of the last things she ever wanted to think about. And that was why she panicked at the age of 28, in front of the mailbox downstairs in her apartment building, staring at the single most threatening piece of mail she'd ever seen in her life.

Clutching the hideously offensive thing in her hand, she rushed out of the building, hailed a cab, and got to Aemilia's Manhattan apartment as quickly as she could manage. Panic of this nature could not be stifled with a simple phone call. She needed to see the woman in person in order to satisfactorily lose her mind and flail until she fainted.

Once she arrived, she knocked on the door of her friend's ridiculously expensive two-bedroom apartment and impatiently waited for her to answer. Two more knocks later, the door finally opened, and a slightly disheveled and silk-robe clad Aemilia answered the door, smoothing down her frizz-free curls with one hand as she poked her head through the opening in the door.

"Oh, Summer," she smiled, surprised. "I thought you were the pizza guy."

Summer began to open her mouth and word-vomit her reason for coming, but then she looked her friend over and said, "Please don't tell me I interrupted you having sex."

Aemilia blushed. "Well, I -"

Suddenly the door was pushed fully open, thanks to the gloriously shirtless, incredibly tall and disgustingly handsome man now standing just behind Aemilia. "Don't worry, darling," he told Summer, who really tried her best not to ogle him, but she was only human and he was... well. "If we had been having sex, I wouldn't have let her out of bed to answer the door in the first place, even for you."

"Oh... right. Well... super," Summer smiled, giving him the thumbs up with both hands like a moron.

He simply chuckled with amusement and then turned to Aemilia, placing a small kiss on her forehead before telling her he was going to take a shower. Then he was off, giving Summer another smile, and she sighed as he walked away.

"He just gets prettier and prettier every time I see him," Summer muttered once he had left her line of sight.

"He truly does," Aemilia agreed. "Loki is... inhumanly... incredible." Then both women stood there and mutually exhaled in deep appreciation for the man, before Aemilia caught herself and said, "I'm sorry. What's up?"

Summer shook her head a little, suddenly remembering the crisis of apocalyptic proportions that has propelled her here in the middle of an otherwise peaceful afternoon. "Something horrible," she replied. "That's what's up."

Aemilia furrowed her brows and stepped aside for Summer to enter, concern coloring her tone as she asked, "Oh no, what's wrong?"

"Everything," Summer muttered miserably. Aemilia closed the door and then Summer shoved the piece of mail in her hands, grimly saying, "See for yourself."

Expecting something truly horrible, Aemilia quickly pulled the letter from the envelope and scanned her eyes over it. Once she understood what Summer was panicking about, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "Summer, I thought something actually bad had happened."

"It has!" Summer exclaimed with wide eyes. "Did you read it?"

"Yes," Aemilia said, handing the letter back to Summer. "It's an invitation to our ten year high school reunion."

Summer's eyes widened dramatically. "Exactly." When Aemilia merely raised her eyebrows in slight exasperation, Summer half-wailed, "How are you not getting this?"

"Oh, I get it," she said, gesturing for Summer to follow her into the kitchen. Summer glanced into the living room on the way, unsurprised to see clothes strewn about the couch and the floor. Like rabbits, Loki and Aemilia were. "High school was hell on earth for us, and the idea of a reunion is about as appealing as taking a leisurely stroll on the surface of the sun. Barefoot."

"Exactly!" Summer exclaimed, leaning against the kitchen counter as Aemilia filled her tea kettle with water from the sink. "So how are you so calm?"

"Well, I knew this would happen eventually," she explained, putting the kettle on the stove. "And honestly," she turned to face Summer, "maybe going isn't such a bad idea."

"Oh no," Summer shook her head and crossed her arms. "Uh-uh. I am not going."

"But Summer -"

"Nope!" Summer shook her head again. "Absolutely not."

Aemilia sighed. "But think about it! Look how far we've come since then, both of us. You're a writer for the New York Times, Summer. You're brilliant and you're a successful, independent, beautiful woman. Those people gave you hell for four years, and this is your chance to give it back to them."

Summer hesitated, wanting to agree with Aemilia, but... "I don't know. I mean, that works for you because look at you - you're an amazing singer with a jazz career that's blowing up, and you're engaged to Loki who just so happens to own a freaking record label, and you're this gorgeous power couple, and I'm... just..."

"... Single?"

Summer blinked slowly and murmured, "Perpetually."

"... But so what? Yes, you haven't had a lot of time to date in the last few years, but who cares?" Aemilia asked.

"I care," Summer argued, "because the thought of walking into that place with all of those people when most of them are probably married with babies... it'll just be hell all over again."

Aemilia sighed, eyes softening as she looked at her friend a bit sadly. "Look, I won't push it because I understand where you're coming from. And I would never tell you to do something that you truly don't want to do. But... you've accomplished so much already, Summer. I am enormously proud of you and all that you've done, and I think that going there together and showing them all how far we've both come would be the best revenge possible."

Aemilia was very persuasive, that was for sure. But Summer just couldn't wrap her head around the idea. "You're probably right, but... still. I'd basically be the third wheel with you and Loki, and -"

"No you wouldn't! Not at all, Summer."

"Okay, but still, I just can't show up there single. I can't." And that, as far as Summer was concerned, was the end of it. "I can't show up and still be the pathetic girl that nobody wants."

Tea kettle whistling, Aemilia pursed her lips and sighed a bit sadly before turning and tending to the tea. Summer idled as her friend fixed her a very proper English cup of tea, and when it was done and Aemilia handed it to her, she said, "For the record, you're not single because nobody wants you. There's quite a difference between being too busy to focus on dating and being unwanted."

Summer shrugged, sipping the hot tea. "You know I still like iced tea better than this stuff, right?"

Aemilia rolled her eyes. "Iced tea. An oxymoron if there ever was one, because tea should never be iced or cold."

"You know," Summer grinned, "next year, you'll have been here in America longer than you were in England. May as well embrace being American and our lovely iced tea."

"I will never be that American," Aemilia replied, but now she was smiling along with her friend. Then she sighed and said, "See, it just won't be the same if I go without you. You made high school bearable for me. It was always us against them. I don't think I want to go if you don't come."

"Oh, gosh, no," Summer frowned. "If you want to go, go. You totally should. All the girls are gonna be incredibly jealous of you. You should have your revenge."

"But so should you," Aemilia replied.

Summer paused, looking down at her tea and shrugging before cracking a joke. "Well, maybe I can Google and see if there's any Rent-A-Boyfriend services in New York."

Aemilia had been in the midst of drinking her own tea when her eyes suddenly grew big and she swallowed the liquid with an unusually loud gulp. "Oh my goodness. I have an idea."

Summer looked at her friend with alarm. This couldn't be good. "What?"

"Bucky!" Aemilia exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You can take him!"

At the mention of her other best friend's name, Summer felt oddly as if she had been punched in the heart. "... I'm not following," she said, playing dumb. "Are you saying I should... ask him out, because -"

"No, no," Aemilia shook her head. "What I'm saying is, if not showing up single is going to be the make or break thing for you, then why not ask him to be your pretend boyfriend for a day?"

If it was even possible, Summer's eyes became even bigger. She was speechless, heart suddenly pounding in her chest and cheeks heating up with an embarrassingly bright blush, and after a few moments of gaping and stuttering a few false starts, Summer muttered, "... That is the worst idea I've ever heard in my life."

Aemilia's smile faded in an instant. "What? Why?"

Summer stared at her in disbelief. "Are you really asking me that?"

Sighing for the thousandth time that afternoon, Aemilia set down her tea and said, "It's the perfect solution. And I have no doubt that he'd be more than willing to do it."

Summer groaned and covered her face with her hands, turning and wailing, "You can't be serious. This isn't happening. I'm gonna wake up and this is all gonna be a bad dream."

Aemilia chuckled. "So overdramatic."

"Yeah!" Summer said, dropping her hands and shooting Aemilia a half-hearted glare. "Because you know better than anyone how I feel about him. I can't... the idea of pretending when I'm..."

"Relax," Aemilia said gently. "Just think about it, all right? No pressure. And yes, I know how you feel about him, but... just think of it this way - maybe he would find that he enjoys pretending to be your boyfriend, enough to finally ask you out properly. Maybe it would all work out in your favor."

Summer rolled her eyes. "The fact that in two and a half years he's hit on literally every woman I know except for me - including you - I'm gonna have to call BS."

"Yes, because he couldn't possibly be in the same boat as you, afraid to lose a very special friend and unwilling to do anything to risk that happening."

Summer shrugged again. "It's not that. It's a lot more simple. No guy that I want ever wants me back. It was true when I was 16 and it's still true now."

"Summer..."

Summer held up her hands, not wanting to hear anymore. "No, it's fine. Really, it's fine. It is what it is. I should head back home and get out of your hair, actually."

Aemilia frowned. "You're not in my hair at all."

"Well, I will be soon if I don't shut up," Summer shrugged one shoulder. "I know I'm being annoying right now, so just... ignore me."

"I would never do that," Aemilia said gently, walking to her best friend and pulling her into a warm, firm hug. After, she held Summer's shoulders and said, "Think about what I said, all right? I still think that you should go to the reunion, that we both should, because we've earned it after everything we went through together."

Summer nodded, completely understanding. "Yeah. I just... I don't know if I could even handle the whole pretend boyfriend thing."

"Then don't ask him," Aemilia said. "But I think you can. I also think that it would be a very enlightening experience for you both."

Summer raised an eyebrow. "... Your matchmaker side is coming out right now, isn't it?"

Aemilia smirked a bit devilishly. "Maybe. By the way, my album release party is next Friday, and -"

Summer's eyes widened. "It is?!"

"Yes," Aemilia smiled brightly, "and you and Bucky are of course invited. Loki said he would text him but in case he forgets - he's so busy - feel free to pass the message to him for me."

"I will," Summer smiled. "Wow! This is exciting! And the song's still number one, right?"

"Third straight week," Aemilia smiled proudly. Honestly, I keep having to pinch myself every day."

"I'm not shocked at all," Summer smiled. "I always knew you'd be a star. And then one day I'd get to brag about how I knew you before you were famous."

Aemilia rolled her eyes affectionately and hugged Summer again, a few more moments of chatting passing by before Summer decided that she really needed to go ahead and leave. They bade each other farewell and, when Loki emerged from the bedroom dressed in a fine dark blue suit with his black hair combed back elegantly on his head, Summer nearly walked into the wall on her way out. He grinned and told her goodbye, and she waved back clumsily before finally making her way out the door.

She suddenly had a lot to think about.

She grabbed a late lunch on her way home, eating it on her couch in her apartment with her laptop open in front of her. She ate and scrolled through her email aimlessly, trying to distract herself and failing. All she could think about was the reunion and the idea of somehow convincing Bucky to come along and pretend to be her hot boyfriend for the night, allowing her to rub her success and general awesomeness in the faces of her former bullies.

It was tempting. It was beyond tempting, actually. But God, she just didn't know if she could do it. Not with how she felt about him.

She had met Bucky a few years before, during the writing of one of her first major pieces for the Times. It was an article about the social stigma and misunderstandings regarding post traumatic stress disorder, particularly of cases involving military veterans. She arranged an interview with a psychologist who worked at the VA in New York, and though she walked into the office expecting an older, grayer fellow, she instead found Dr. James Barnes, or Bucky as he insisted on her calling him.

He was young, dark haired, blue eyed, and he showed up five minutes late to the interview in a leather jacket and with windswept hair courtesy of the motorcycle he'd arrived on. He was also a former Army Sergeant who had served two tours overseas before completing his degree in psychology and devoting his career to helping people who had experienced the same trauma that he had.

It was a wonder that she didn't spend the entire interview drooling. It was a good thing, too, because when he mentioned at one point that he was engaged, she had mentally deflated like a poked balloon.

Still, they became fast friends, to her surprise. After her article was published, he emailed her and thanked her for her portrayal of the issue and for not editing or misrepresenting his words, and when her reply back led to another from him and another from her until they were legitimately chatting rather than talking about the article anymore, it took them both by surprise. They simply got along effortlessly from the start, and it was great - she always had room for more friends.

At first it was very casual, and they would speak intermittently. She was busy and so was he, after all. A few months passed, and then he invited her - via email again - to his engagement party. She accepted, and that was the day she met his fiancée.

The woman was named Vivian, and she was stunning. She looked like a classic Hollywood movie star to Summer with her vibrant red curls and green eyes, and the way that she charmed everyone in the room like it was effortless. She was everything Summer wished that she could be, and she and Bucky made one of the most gorgeous couples that Summer had ever seen. She was deeply envious in the purest of ways.

But they hadn't lasted. They broke up only a month later, for reasons that Bucky entirely blamed himself for. It was following the breakup and his brief but hardcore spiral into somewhat debilitating depression that he and Summer grew closer and became the sort of friends that were just inseparable.

She dragged him out to mini-golf and laser tag, haunted houses during Halloween and snowball fights during the winter, all things that Bucky hadn't done in years and made them both feel like kids again. They had a blast together no matter where they went or what they did, and she helped him pick the pieces back up following that difficult breakup.

She also, naturally, fell head over heels in love with him in the process, but Aemilia was the only person in the world who knew that. And Summer planned to keep it that way.

She and Bucky still hung out every week, sometimes getting drinks, catching a movie, or doing whatever else caught their fancy that particular day. He was such a huge part of her life now that she couldn't imagine it without him, and that was why she guarded her secret so closely. She knew he didn't think of her the way that she thought about him, and she could live with that so long as she got to still have him in her life the way that she did.

And that was why asking him to pretend to be her boyfriend for the high school reunion was inherently dangerous. Pretending to be a couple meant holding hands, showing affection, and who even knew what else, and that terrified her. She already had a hard enough time keeping her feelings bottled up and secret from him - how was she supposed to do that and pretend to be his girlfriend at the same time?

But... every point that Aemilia had made had been spot on. They had both endured such misery and grief at the hands of their high school tormentors - the girls had been even worse than the boys - and the idea of walking into the reunion in her best dress, black hair styled to perfection and no longer the limp mess it had been back then, her body now mostly proportionate and eyes fixed thanks to corrective laser surgery, and boasting the hottest arm candy that a girl could ask for...

She groaned and closed her laptop, food forgotten and mind unable to focus on a damn thing else. She grabbed her phone and pulled up her text thread with Bucky, still entirely sure that this was a horrible idea that was going to blow up in her face, but... well, maybe she'd get lucky and he would say no and spare her.

Probably not, though. She knew him very well by now, and she knew that this was just the kind of thing that he would probably be all over and have a blast with.

Dinner tonight? she asked, hitting the send button before she could chicken out. She only had to wait a few minutes before his reply came through.

Anything for you, doll. Where?

She groaned at his choice of words and answered, Your turn to pick. Just no pizza.

Dammit, he replied playfully. Fine. Pick you up at 7?

As long as you're picking me up in a cab and not that deathtrap you own, she replied, grinning to herself. As much as she loved the sight of Bucky riding his beloved motorcycle, she didn't have the guts to ever let him convince her to climb on the back of it and let him take her for a ride. And he had asked before. A lot.

Pansy, came his reply.

Psycho, came hers. He then sent her a slew of crazy-faced emojis, and she laughed to the point of snorting quite unattractively.

She'd pop the question over dinner, if she kept her nerve up. In the meantime, she decided to go ahead and get ready for their dinner and try not to vomit in the process.

She was doomed.

A few hours later, Summer was in the ladies' room of the restaurant that Bucky had picked - one of her favorites, which was what always seemed to happen whenever she asked him to choose - and she had just washed her hands and officially run out of excuses to continue to stall. She took a deep breath and eyed her reflection in the mirror - pretty good tonight, in her opinion, mainly because she always took extra time to look her best when she knew she was going to be around Bucky, not that she'd admit it - and then told herself to grow up and get back to their table.

After another deep breath, that was what she did. They'd only arrived maybe ten minutes earlier, and it was way too early to be hiding in the bathroom already, especially when she hadn't even asked him her question yet.

Ugh. The damn question.

After she left the bathroom and weaved her way back to their table, she was greeted by an unsurprising sight. Bucky sitting there, charming grin on his unfairly handsome face as he spoke to their waitress who was prettier than Summer wanted to admit and currently leaning over just far enough to give Bucky a peek down her shirt if he wanted it. She was smiling and giggling at something he said, and Summer was caught between the urge to stab out the waitress' eyes with a fork or just turn around and leave so she could wallow at home in peace.

But she did neither of those things. Instead she went back to her seat and sat down, plastering a smile on her face when Bucky looked up at her and ceased his conversation with the overly flirtatious waitress. "Hey."

"Hi again," she smiled, glancing at the waitress and getting a small bit of satisfaction from the way that her smile shrank a bit. She told Bucky to let her know if they needed anything else and then headed off, and the whole time, Bucky hadn't taken his eyes off of Summer once.

That was the nice thing about him. He was a flirt down to his core, but when he was with Summer he was with her. She always had his full attention, especially when it was just the two of them. He wasn't a jerk.

Mostly.

"So," she said with a deep breath, grabbing the glass of white wine that had been placed on her side of the table while she'd been quietly panicking in the bathroom, "how was work today?"

He shrugged, hand reaching up and pushing one side of his shoulder-length hair back behind his ears. "Same as usual. I'm pretty tired, though. Think I'm getting old."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Oh please."

"No, it's true," he said, looking very much not like an old man in his utterly uncalled for ensemble of black leather jacket, black shirt underneath, and just in case there wasn't enough black, black pants as well. Coupled with his long hair being down, Summer would have been more than happy to have him for dinner, right there in the middle of the restaurant. "I almost took a nap in my office today between appointments. I don't think I've taken a nap since kindergarten."

"Naps are great," she said, setting down her wine after taking a few big gulps. "You should take as many as you can. I love naps."

"I know," he grinned. "You took a nap on my couch that one time for three hours."

"... You have a very comfortable couch," she shrugged. Plus he had laid a blanket on her at some point while she had been sleeping, and it had smelled like him and... yeah, it was a good nap, as naps go.

"Mhm. So," he said, leaning a bit more across the table with his arms crossed in front of him, "what's got you all antsy?"

She froze like a deer in headlights. "I'm not antsy."

"Summer," he said evenly, "I think I know you well enough by now that I can tell when you're panicking inside. What's going on?"

She sighed and gulped at the same time, which felt rather odd, but she knew there was no escaping her fate now. Better to just push on and get it over with. "Okay, so... I got an invitation to my ten year high school reunion today."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Yeah, and I've told you how bad high school was for me before, right?"

"... I remember you saying they called you Funbags."

She rolled her eyes and he laughed. "Of course you'd remember the part about boobs."

"Look, you know my memory's not the best," he chuckled, grinning in a way that made her want to smack him. "The highlights are what stands out."

"I know, I know," she nodded, unable to hold it against him. He actually did have a very valid excuse for not remembering things as well as most people. "Well, anyway, high school was hell. I was too tall, too skinny, my boobs were too big, my butt was so small it was basically inverted, my hair looked like I melted a stick of butter on top of it every day, and on top of all of that, I was even more awkward than I am now."

"I have a hard time believing you're not exaggerating at least some of that. You tend to be way too hard on yourself."

"No," she shook her head. "It was bad. And I had this crush on this guy, and everyone knew it because every time he walked past me or said hi I'd turn into a tomato and hide. I'm not even kidding. I was a mess. And now I'm supposed to go back and deal with these people again."

"I say go for it," Bucky said, leaning back in his seat. "Show 'em how badass you turned out. Make them regret every day they spent giving you shit."

"... That's what Aemilia said, and yeah, in theory, I agree," Summer said, fingers starting to fidget as she got closer to the point. "But the thing is... look, none of the boys in school ever wanted to date me. Except this kid named Ralphie who was super into Dungeons and Dragons, but the point is, I was a loser, okay, and the walking poster child for the Forever Alone meme. And I still am, because yeah," she pointed to herself and made a face. "Still alone."

Bucky's expression softened. "You're not forever alone. You just... haven't found the right guy yet." His jaw worked a little after those last few words, but Summer was too busy staring at her hands to see it.

"Well... either way," she looked back up, "I can't walk into that place alone. I refuse. But Aemilia wants to go, and she won't go without me, so..."

She let her words hang there in the air, hoping that Bucky would connect the dots so she wouldn't have to spell it out, but when his blank stare met hers, she knew she wasn't gonna get that lucky.

She took a deep breath. "So... um... I was wondering if... maybe... you could, uh..." Dammit, just spit it out, idiot. "Maybe you could go with me and pretend to be my boyfriend?"

At that exact moment, as Bucky froze with surprise and Summer wished she could rewind and start all over, the overly flirtatious waitress came back with their food. She placed Bucky's plate down in front of him and tossed a smile his way that he didn't even notice. Summer thanked her on his behalf, and after the waitress walked away with a slightly sour look on her face, Bucky blinked and snapped out of his brief daze.

"... You want me to be your fake date for your high school reunion," he said, as if he didn't quite believe it.

She nodded, feeling like her heart was in her throat and slowly choking her to death. "Yeah. But you don't have to, of course. If you don't want to that's totally fine, 'cause I know it might be weird for you - for us - but -"

He shook his head and gently interrupted her moment of pure word vomit. "No, no, it's okay. I'll do it."

She paused and looked at him in shock. "... You will?"

He smiled affectionately at her bewildered expression. "Course I will. Did you really think I'd say no?"

Summer paused, cheeks burning a little with embarrassment and something else she wouldn't cop to. "No. I don't know. I mean... I would have understood if you had, but..."

He shook his head, reaching for the bundle of silverware next to his plate and unwrapping it. "Nah, I'm happy to do it. And I understand where you're coming from. I mean, for what it's worth," he glanced up at her, "I don't think for a minute that you need to show up there with a guy on your arm. You're amazing on your own and I don't want you to doubt that for a minute. But... I get it. And I'll help however I can."

She let out a long, deep breath that she felt as if she had been holding all day, and she smiled a bit more dreamily than she intended as she said, "God, you're amazing."

He grinned around the mouthful of food he was chewing on, swallowing and replying, "Glad you think so. So when is this thing?"

"A month from now, about an hour and a half away from here. So it'll be like the world's shortest road trip."

"Road trips are fun," he noted. "You said Aemilia's going too?"

"Yep. Her and Loki are gonna walk in and literally kill everyone. That's another reason why I can't go alone. I'd be the freaking third wheel from hell."

"See," Bucky shook his head, "that's the wrong angle. Think of it like a man would. Sure, you're alone, but that's only because you're having too much fun hooking up with someone new every other weekend and you just don't wanna get tied down."

Summer made a face. "Except... I don't really hook up like that... ever."

"How long has it been?" Bucky asked, purely out of curiosity. "Was it that one guy, Andy... Anthony... uh... Anderson..."

Summer smiled and corrected him, "Ian."

"Ian!" Bucky grinned, pointing at her. "I was close."

"Not really. And that was eight months ago. It was literally two dates, and he was like the worst kisser in the history of mankind."

"Did you even sleep with him?" Bucky squinted.

"God, no. He had hamburger tongue. Like it literally felt like a Whopper Jr poking into my mouth."

Bucky almost choked on his sip of water, then laughed at her description. "That's horrible. I'm sorry. So wait... when was the last time you actually had sex?"

Face going up in flames, Summer pretended to be offended by the question. "My God, Bucky, why does it matter?"

"It doesn't, I'm just curious."

"Why?!"

"Because you're my friend, and I care about you. I'd ask Steve the same thing, but he's married now and I don't really want to know how often him and Peggy do it."

Summer sighed, gaze drifting off as she thought about Bucky's other best friend and his unbelievably hot, badass wife, and she muttered, "If only they'd invite me over for a threesome one of these days."

Bucky groaned and raked a hand through his hair. "Man, I can't think of them like that. On the other hand though, if Aemilia ever wanted an extra set of hands and Loki was okay with it -"

Now it was Summer's turn to choke on her drink. "Oh God, stop! You can't put visuals like that in my head! You know I always imagine everything the minute I hear it!"

"You didn't let me finish," Bucky said, face full of glee. "I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about you. You're the one who needs some action."

Summer buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God. You know," she forced her hands to go back down to her lap but she avoided looking him in the eye, "for some reason, I don't think they'd be okay with that."

Bucky made a scoffing sound. "Why not? I've never met a guy who didn't want to watch two beautiful women make out, and you're her best friend, so you'd be the logical first choice as far as who she'd be comfortable with."

Summer blinked. "... How did the conversation even end up here?"

Ignoring her, Bucky went on, "And Loki, he's got those really long piano-playing fingers. I'm sure he's pretty good with them."

"Okay," Summer gulped, pointing across the table at Bucky's smug face, "you need to stop. I'm gonna scream."

"Well, somebody needs to make you scream."

Summer made a pathetic, quiet whimpering noise and then muttered, "You hate me."

He furrowed his brows and scoffed. "Hate you? If I hated you, I wouldn't be trying to help you come up with ways to help with your deprivation issue."

Yes, Summer silently stewed as she gulped down the rest of her wine, because a threesome with my best friend and her fiancé is totally the logical choice, not, oh I don't know, offering to help me out yourself except oh wait, that's right, you'd rather hook up with desperate waitresses than even consider me for five seconds.

"Hey," Bucky said, nudging her ankle under the table with his foot, suddenly concerned now that her expression was rather sullen and humorless, "you know I'm just playing around, right?"

She nodded, forcing a smile on her face like the professional faker that she was. "Yeah I know."

"You're just a lot of fun to rile up," he shrugged with a small grin that she really wished wouldn't make her knees wobble. "But seriously though. How long has it been?"

She groaned and lost the energy to continue skating around the question. "Since Scott."

Bucky paused for a minute, brows furrowing and the wheels in his head turning as he silently counted. "... You dated him what... a year and a half ago?"

God, she needed more wine. "Yep."

He blinked. "Was it even good?"

Shifting uncomfortably, she muttered, "It was okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"It... just... leave it alone," she said, cheeks burning as she violently stabbed at her food with her fork.

"All right, so, since you're being fidgety again, I'm just gonna assume that he didn't know what he was doing, and -"

"He was fine," she forced out. "He was. I just have a hard time getting out of my own head, okay?"

Bucky then watched as she continued to attack her food as if it had personally wronged her, and he started to feel a bit guilty again. He sighed, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," she lied. "I just don't like reliving embarrassing things. Which is another reason why I don't want to go to this stupid reunion."

"I thought you did want to go."

"I do but I don't," she sighed, relieved that the conversation had drifted back to less mortifying territory. "I just... the thought of seeing those people again, the guys that made me feel like a piece of meat and the girls who were so mean every single day of my life..."

"If you truly don't want to go, don't," Bucky replied. "Really. Just don't. We can go do something fun instead for a couple days."

"But Aemilia..."

"She'd understand," Bucky assured her. "You have to do what's best for you."

Summer sighed, honestly not really knowing quite what that was. She sat quietly for a moment, staring at her mostly uneaten food, and pondered why she was so conflicted. Was it fear and cowardice holding her back? Was it her inner 14-year-old making a reappearance, wanting to curl in on herself and hide from the people who used to torture her and Aemilia like it was their all-time favorite pastime?

Maybe that was exactly what it was. Maybe, even after all of this time, those old wounds still hurt just a little bit. Maybe those bullies still had a certain amount of power over her even to this day, and without even saying a word to her or looking in her direction, they could still make her want to hide in a corner and only emerge once she knew they were gone.

And that was the realization that finally made up Summer's mind for good. "You know what? Frick it," she declared.

He chuckled. "Frick it?"

"Yep. Frick it, because I'm done letting those people get to me. I'm gonna go to the stupid reunion, spend an entire paycheck on the hottest dress I can find, and walk in there like I own the place."

He grinned. "Now you're talking. And I'll worship the ground you walk on and show those bastards what they missed out on."

That made Summer smile. If only it could be real, she mused, but... she supposed one night of pretending was better than nothing.

"Let's shake on it," he said, holding out his hand to hers across the table. "No more wavering, no second guessing. We're doing this and we're in it together. I've got your back. And you're gonna blow them all away. Deal?"

She took a breath and then took his hand in hers, shaking it and nodding. "Deal."

There was no going back now. It was happening, she had committed, and she was officially now more terrified than ever.

"Oh, by the way," Summer remembered as they pulled their hands away, "Aemilia's album release party is next Friday. And we're invited."

"Good!" Bucky said cheerfully, picking his fork back up. "That'll be good practice for us."

Summer froze, staring at him cautiously. "... Practice? We don't need practice."

He then gave her a knowing look and dropped his fork back down, reaching across the table and taking her hand tenderly in his. She looked at their hands in alarm and then felt her heart nearly stop at the distinct sensation of his foot sliding up her ankle under the table.

"Summer," he murmured in his best, drippingly sexual voice. "Are you sure about that?"

Face, neck and chest now bright red and on fire, Summer gulped and then let go of his hand, jerking her leg backwards for good measure and then nodding, "Yep, okay. We need practice. Yeah. Lots of practice."

Bucky simply chuckled and went back to casually eating his dinner, all the while Summer tried to will her heartbeat back into a normal rhythm and keep breathing. If that was all it took from him to nearly kill her, she might not survive this little charade of theirs.

Oh God, she thought to herself as she stared unseeingly down at her plate and began panicking inside all over again, what have I gotten myself into this time?

A/N: hey everybody! :D So I know what some of you are probably thinking - what the heck am I doing posting another AU when LAD is nearly finished and I've still got At Your Service needing to be updated soon. WELL, the short answer to that is, I'm always a slut for a new AU, so... here we are :D basically one day I mentioned to my awesome, amazing, beautiful, stunningly brilliant partner in crime midnightwings96 that one of these days I needed to give the fake relationship trope a spin because it would be fun. She came up with this lovely idea, and voila :p I hope you guys will like it, and I look forward to hearing from you! I think this story will be five chapters long including an epilogue, so it won't be too long, and I hope to have it all finished soon. I'll be posting the second chapter fairly soon, so keep an eye out for it if you enjoyed this :D thank you guys again for reading, and I love you :D