I had only worn a tuxedo once in my entire life, and it’d been a hand-me-down from my dad. It had been too big everywhere, but I hadn’t complained. My life wasn’t exactly full of events that required a tuxedo, and as a poor soon-to-be college student, I’d known better than to refuse a gift. Alex knew tuxedos, though. I instinctively gravitated towards the plainest, least expensive black tux in the entire store. Alex did not. Alex had to try them all on—even the ones he had no intention of buying.

I sat outside the fitting room of an upscale tuxedo shop. Well, at least I assumed it was upscale. The name was in French and the tuxedos had four and even five-figure price tags. It certainly wasn’t the local Goodwill. Somehow, knowing that Alex was going to shell out this much money to dress either of us caused an awkward rolling in my stomach.

I fiddled with my phone. I’d been trying all day to get my feelings together and figure out how to vocalize them. When I’d left to meet Alex at his weight-training session, I’d been sure I could do this. Of course, that was before he’d popped his head out the shower with his unfairly gorgeous pectorals and abdominal muscles, which caused every rational thought to fly from my mind. It wasn’t fair that someone’s good looks were capable of so efficiently destroying my resolve.

Alex finally emerged in a bright purple suit. I felt as though my corneas might melt, yet somehow, Alex still managed to not look atrocious. “Dear God, no,” I said.

Alex smirked and did a twirl. “But it’s Mardi Gras, baby!”

“I’ll die. If you wear that, I will literally die.”

“Hmm. I’m sure we could find someone to reanimate you. I wouldn’t really want to watch your skin rot off, but I don’t suppose you’d decay too much in one night. Ooh! And you’d already be in a tuxedo! We could just go to the party, and when it’s done, I’ll shoot you in the head and pop you in a casket!”

I leveled a stern glare at him, even though I knew he was joking. Actual zombies didn’t quite resemble the ones in horror movies, and while necromancers could raise the dead, doing so required such an elaborate series of circumstances that almost never happened.

“Well, I could just try propping up your dead body and—”

“Can we not talk about my premature death? I have a lot to live for.”

“Do you?” Alex asked. “What do you have left to accomplish in your life that’s so dire?”

“I want my master’s,” I replied. “Then my doctorate.”

Alex sighed. “So much school. And what then?”

“Become fabulously wealthy for my scientific discoveries. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Of course, forgive me,” Alex said. “Now what do you really think?”

Alex did a twirl as if that would somehow persuade me to love the unholy abomination he’d decided to wear.

“Is it Halloween?”

“You’re no fun.”

“I didn’t realize having taste equated to not having fun. You look like the Joker’s understudy.”

Alex smirked and sauntered back into the dressing room, doubtlessly planning to subject my poor, innocent eyes to another monstrosity. I considered texting Cascade; she’d find this whole thing extremely funny. If I did, though, she was bound to ask whether or not I’d told Alex how I felt, and I wasn’t ready to admit to her that I was a complete failure in that respect. But what if this didn’t work? What if I asked Alex if we could be friends after this was over, and friends wasn’t enough? Or worse—what if being friends was enough, and I made it awkward by trying to rush into it? It was supposed to be an act. I wasn’t the real boyfriend. I was the pretend boyfriend.

“Hey, Alex?”

“Yo!” Alex’s voice came from behind the fitting room door.

“How…uh, how are we going to end our relationship?” I asked quickly, before I could lose my nerve.

Alex was quiet.

“I mean, you can’t pretend to be my boyfriend forever. You know? Eventually, we’ll have to come up with something to tell everyone.”

“I know,” Alex replied. “I figure we’ll just—I don’t know—say we decided we didn’t work. Or something.”

I’d expected something more outlandish. Something involving me being abducted by a vicious horde of demon-possessed cats. Russian spies, maybe. With enough explosions to fill Michael Bay’s next five movies.

“I shot you with an arrow, so you left?” I suggested, trying to coax something a little more exciting out of him.

Instead, Alex burst out laughing. “If you shot me with an arrow, I’d probably die of laughter. After I finished cussing and pulling the arrow out, obviously.”

“I don’t think that’s the proper medical procedure,” I replied.

“I heal very quickly.”

He did—of any wound that wasn’t silver-induced, and even that proviso was a little spotty. Hypothetically, he might be able to heal from a silver-plated injury, although the research I’d read didn’t present anyone who’d actually tested that theory.

“Maybe we’ll say we just couldn’t make it past the stress of midterms,” Alex said. “When are they?”

“Spring break starts March twenty-sixth, so the week before that.”

“Hmm. Or maybe we’ll go somewhere for spring break. We can say you left me for some Adonis-like vampire or something. Ooh, a Russian vampire with an amazing accent.”

“Sounds great,” I answered dryly. “Very believable.”

“Or we can say that with all the stress of me becoming alpha, you just couldn’t deal with it. You wouldn’t be the first person to bail because of that. It’s not easy being with someone responsible for managing an entire pack.”

“No, I suppose not,” I said. “It does sound a bit harder than working in the writing center.”

“You have to please so many people. It’s not a responsibility I take lightly, and it’s one I want very badly.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Yeah, well. It’s not an easy job to get. I mean, Zara is everything they’re looking for. She’s smart, brave, outspoken. She’s compassionate. God, I want to hate her so much. Why does she have to be so perfect?”

“You’re pretty perfect, too,” I said.

Alex positively cackled with laughter.

“Aside from a few glaring flaws,” I finished.

“Like what?”

“Your lying, for one.”

Alex emerged from the fitting room in a bright green suit. I’d thought nothing could be worse than the purple, but Alex had decided to show me just how wrong I was. “You think you aren’t as complicit in this as I am?” Alex asked.

“We aren’t talking about my flaws. You also have abhorrent taste in suits,” I said, gesturing towards him.

“My taste is impeccable, Nicholas.”

“Ooh, my full name. Very terrifying, Alexander.”

“That’s your flaw. Your mouth. You never know when to stop.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just upset that you can’t match my sharp wit?” I inquired.

“I think you rely on your mouth because you’d be pulverized in a fistfight,” Alex said.

“I think I’ll pass on getting arrested for assault. Thanks.”

Alex smiled, seemingly amused.

“What?” I deadpanned, so as not to encourage him.

“I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous pursuit,” I said.

“I could teach you to box,” Alex said. “That might be fun. I take boxing lessons on Tuesday and Thursday nights.”

“I have no idea how you keep up with your Draconian schedule,” I said. “Do you have a day planner? When do you fit in the volleyball and water polo?”

“No. During the summer. And I haven’t played water polo in years. But it’s easy! Weight-training is early in the mornings. I cram all the classes in the middle of the day, which leaves my evenings free for other pursuits. Don’t forget that I do need less sleep than you.”

“But how are you going to fit all this in around being pack leader?” I asked.

“Well, I’ll obviously have to drop a few things,” Alex answered. “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. For the good of the pack and all.”

I wondered if he was really prepared for this. I knew from years of retail that having numerous commitments was generally a red-flag when it came to job hunting and interviews, but maybe applying for pack leader was a little different to working as a cashier.

“Yeah,” Alex said, awkwardly somber. “Anyway, what do you think?”

He twirled and bowed dramatically.

“You look like one of those guys that would hang around a bar on St. Patrick’s Day and drunkenly shout at women walking past.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Kind of.”

Alex wrinkled his nose and returned to his dressing room. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up with you and Cascade, anyway?”

“She’s my best friend,” I replied. “Why?”

“I just wondered if the two of you might’ve been involved.”

“As in a relationship? Or as in a friends-with-benefits sort of arrangement?”

“Either.”

“Um…we experimented a bit before I met Brian.”

And before Cascade realized that she really wasn’t attracted to men.

“Was it good?”

“She’s a siren. It was great.”

“Were you any good?”

For a split second, I was at a complete loss for words. Was this really a conversation he wanted to have in the middle of a tuxedo store? Why was he even asking? I stopped abruptly, suddenly wondering if he might be interested in having sex with me. No, most likely he was curious because Cascade was a gorgeous woman, and I had never expressly mentioned if I was gay or bi.

“She didn’t complain. I mean, she came, so…”

“So who’s Brian?”

“My ex.”

“Oh.”

I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall.

“What happened there?”

“We dated for a couple years. He started sleeping around, and when I found out, he blamed me for it,” I said, idly pulling a leg up onto my chair and resting my chin on my knee. “He said I wasn’t affectionate enough and I stressed him out too much. I suppose that’s fair to a degree. I had a lot going on the year we broke up, and I really didn’t have time for a relationship. I mean, my car was totaled, my grandmother died, my cat died, I almost missed a semester because of problems with my financial aid, and I caught the flu the week of finals for the fall semester.”

Alex’s head popped around the edge of the fitting room door. “All that going on and your boyfriend fucking cheated on you?”

“I was a wreck that semester, and apparently it made him feel like a wreck,” I replied. “It would’ve been unbelievably selfish of me to insist he stay and deal with it all.”

“But the point of a relationship is that you’re supposed to stay and deal with things like that! He was the selfish one! He made things so much worse by just—”

“I’d rather he left than stay with me when he didn’t want to.”

“Then he should’ve manned up and told you. There was no reason to cheat. You’re being way nicer about this than you should be.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me how to deal with my broken heart, hmm?” I said.

Alex’s eyes searched my face and something seemed to click. “You don’t still like him, do you?” Alex asked.

“No. I merely regret that I wasted four years on someone who wasn’t worth my time,” I replied.

“You didn’t waste anything. His sorry ass wasted your time. And you.”

“Can we not talk about this?” I asked.

“Talking will make it better. Does he still go to South? Do you want to make him jealous? I bet I’m way more attractive than him.”

“No. Get back in the dressing room,” I said. “I liked you better when you were tormenting me.”

Alex sighed and popped back into the room. I toyed with my phone. Brian’s number was still in my contacts, and occasionally I thought about texting him. I knew I should’ve deleted it ages ago. Cascade would be upset if she knew I hadn’t. Still, I justified it by reasoning that I might need to contact him for something. We were both astrophysics majors and sometimes passed one another in the hallways. It hurt every time, too.

Guilt coiled in my stomach. Maybe I’d been a little mean to Alex. It was…nice to have someone indignant on my behalf. Of course, I adored Cascade and could always depend on her, but she was my best friend and roommate. She was obligated to stand up for me. No one else was.

“He was weird in bed, though,” I offered, hoping to soothe any offense I might’ve caused. “I mean, he was good at the sex stuff”—and really good with knots—“but I always knew when he was about to orgasm because he’d whinny like a horse.”

Silence.

“No,” Alex said.

“Mm-hmm. I had to bite the pillow sometimes to muffle my laughs because once I realized he sounded like a horse, I couldn’t unhear it.”

“Dear God. I hope he was at least hung like one, too.”

“He wasn’t bad by any means, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

Alex stepped out again, wearing a very nice navy tuxedo. “You like this one, don’t you?” he asked smugly.

I scowled out of principle. Of course he looked amazing. He knew it, too.

“I guess it’ll do,” I replied.

“Please, I know it looks amazing. You’d better hope I don’t show you up.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Alex asked. “After I agreed to go do a nerd-thing just to make you happy.”

“What do you even imagine ‘nerd things’ are, Alex?”

“I don’t know. Going to conventions and playing video games. Since you’re into astronomy, they’re probably like…more spacey.”

“Oh, my God. More spacey?”

“Yeah? You’re not going to make me listen to a lecture with you, are you?”

“I’ve never willingly gone to a lecture in my life,” I answered. “Why would you assume such a terrible thing?”

“Hey, I’m trying! I don’t know. I don’t usually date people that can, like, probably blow me up with ammonia and bleach.”

“Yes, because if I wanted to kill you, I’d do it by mixing my cleaning products,” I replied. “Are you serious?”

“Mostly,” Alex said, returning to his dressing room.

“Chlorine gas is dangerous,” I said. “If I wanted to take you down, I wouldn’t risk taking myself down with you.”

“That’s the spirit!” Alex replied.

I smiled to myself and idly checked my email for reminders about any possible lectures. No, I never went to them, but if Alex was offering, this sounded like a prime opportunity to go to one. I still had to get him back for his archery stunt, after all.

There weren’t any lectures for months, though. “Looks like you’re safe,” I said. “The university is a nerd-free zone until mid-March.”

Alex stepped out in his jeans and coat. I cringed at the way he’d carelessly piled those tuxedos over his arm. Even knowing this store had an army of fashion consultants and steamers, it did little to ease the anxiety in my stomach. These clothes were expensive, probably more expensive than anything I owned. I’d been afraid to even touch my tuxedo, and it was probably the only item in the store with a three-digit price tag.

“I can’t imagine having enough money that the people in this store would know me by name,” I said.

Alex wadded the fabric up even more, seemingly oblivious to it. “You grew up poor?” he asked.

“Grew up poor? Do you think I’m wealthy now?”

I trailed him to the checkout. Alex shrugged. “You get by, best I can tell. I mean, I don’t know. You look…average. Middle-class. Like a college student.”

I hadn’t realized that he didn’t look so much like a college student until he mentioned it. “Can I rent my tux instead of buying it?” I asked. “Please?”

Alex looked over his shoulder, bewilderment written on his face. “If you want,” he said, “But why would you when I can just buy it for you? That was part of our arrangement, after all.”

“I know. I just feel uncomfortable with it. I’d feel like I owed you something.”

“Owe me? You’re the one doing me a service. If anything, I owe you.”

“I get that, but it still makes me uneasy,” I said. “Besides, I will probably never need to wear it again.”

Alex still didn’t look like he entirely understood, but he relented, nevertheless. “Whatever floats your boat.”

I thought about making a joke about the Archimedes principle, but that sounded very far from cool or impressive. And maybe I did want to impress him, just a little bit. “Thank you,” I said.

Alex shrugged and paid the significantly less expensive rental fee for my tux, along with the four thousand dollars for his own.