Chapter Text
“So, you’re saying I’m not going to get in?” Bryce frowned, trying to comprehend what this glorified guidance counsellor his parents paid for was telling him.
“Not at all,” she said with a shake of her head, “You’re a great candidate Bryce, but you need to focus on an extra-curricular that isn’t sports-related, if you want a real shot at standing out.”
“But my timetable is full,” he said, trying not to get frustrated with this frumpy woman.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Voluntary work looks excellent on collage applications.”
Working at the soup kitchen for junkies? Hard pass. Bryce frowned, trying to think of anything that he might be able to squeeze in, without having to give up on hanging with his boys on the regular, and partying after games.
The lady leaned forward conspiratorially, and Bryce took that as his cue to listen, really listen. The other stuff was just window dressing, but when lawyers, doctors, anyone really, smelled money, they knew to give up the real goods at the end. After enough foreplay.
“Allow me to be frank with you, Mr Walker?”
Surnames now, she was really laying it on think… but hey that’s what his parents were paying for.
“These days, diversity is what sells. If there’s anything non-WASP in your heritage… you should also get tested for dyslexia and ADHD. If you can sell a sob story, you’re a much more viable candidate. Because the university can put you down as a diversity selection, without actually having to deal with the potentially volatile fallout of too many actually diverse students with complex needs.”
Bryce hummed, considering her words carefully.
“That sounds like a lot of work, and I’m equal to any challenge…” he mused, “But I don’t want medication, if it’s going to interfere with my chances of playing baseball or football. It could be deemed an ‘unfair advantage’.”
“That is a concern, as regulations often change,” she says, shuffling her skirt then standing, “I hope you found our talk beneficial, Bryce. You’re a resourceful boy. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Bryce nodded, shaking her hand when she offered it, his head already abuzz with possibilities.
*
Faking ADHD honestly seemed like the easiest option. He can sell the Ritalin as easily as weed or oxy, but that’s kind of the problem. It’s so common. No one’s going to blink at another white male athlete with concentration problems, and honestly he’s not thrilled about the prospect of anyone thinking he coasted his exams cause of extra time. He worked damn hard for those grades.
It was Monty, of all fucking people, who gave him the winning idea. The lucky bastard was poorer than his clothes would have anyone expect, and his Spanish heritage means he’s ticking those diversity boxes… but that wasn’t the reason Bryce was inspired by him. No, it was Monty’s ever rampant homophobia, as dependable as the blue sky.
“Out of my way, faggot,” he snarled at Tyler Down, who quickly flinched away, and hurried off like the little bitch he was.
Normally, Bryce would laugh, but today he stilled, looking in the direction Tyler scurried away in. Diversity wasn’t just about money, housing, and home language, he remembered. There’s the whole spectrum of human sexuality which has recently expanded quite a bit, right there to take advantage of. Once upon a time it might have been a death sentence, but not here, not now. Not with the kind of wealth and influence Bryce’s parents have. If he was actually gay, it might be a deal breaker… But as long as he can convince them he’ll marry a woman and procreate eventually, it shouldn’t be a problem.
It was suddenly so fucking clear, and unbelievably easy.
*
First off, Bryce needed a beard.
Is it still a beard for a fake boyfriend?
Whatever, he needed a guy to date, publicly, so he could pretend to be bisexual, point and say see, there’s me, and that’s the boy I’ve been dating since sophomore year. I’m dependable, committed, trustworthy. Three years of exclusive dating would be enough to convince any collage. But who the hell at Liberty High would go for that?
Anyone desperate enough. Justin might’ve, if he hadn’t gotten serious about Jess Davies over the summer, before school started back up. Now they’re joined at the hip, and Monty was the only other one of his boys that might have qualified. None of the others were poor or fucked up enough. Standall maybe? But he hadn’t been around long enough so Bryce didn't know his personality that well, and though he looked the part, apparently he was truly straight, and Bryce doesn’t know if he can wheedle his way in there. Standall’s dad was also a cop. Too risky.
And Bryce was under no illusions. This wasn’t the sort of “favour” he could repay without actually paying, sugar daddy style. But who the hell wants to be in a fake relationship like some kind of C-list celebrity looking for attention, in high school?Alright, so Ryan Shaver might go for it, but an actually gay guy might genuinely fall for him, and that’s a complication Bryce doesn’t need. He has no interest in fucking the guy, he wants a cover. Not a genuine lover, but a business partner. No sex, no strings. There are plenty of sluts he can fuck, girls that won’t care if he’s supposed to be taken. He can easily keep that on the down-low, with an adoring boyfriend posing sweetly for his facebook and insta.
What Bryce needed was a sweet spot in the middle. A straight guy who might be secretly curious, and flattered by Bryce's attention. But more importantly, one that everyone at school could easily believe had been closeted till now. A quiet kid, outside the main popular crowd. Someone who will be happy to be noticed, but not desperate enough for attention to cause too much drama. Tyler Down was far too much of a pussy, but that kid who was rumoured to be gay when they were in middle school just might work.
Unfortunately, Bryce can’t for the life of him even remember his name. They do share physics class though, thankfully. Whereas Bryce usually pays attention, because science isn’t his strong suit and he needs to keep his grade reasonable, that day he spent most of it staring at the back of the guy’s head, trying to remember his fucking name. He was clearly shy; doesn’t raise his hand much, but he wasn't a total boffin loner like the weirdos right at the front. He’s perfect. For Bryce's purposes anyway.
This time, it was Atkins, the best guy on the team and basically the nicest dude around, who came to his rescue. Not that Bryce had told anyone of his plans. Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, and Bryce doesn’t plan on ever making that kind of mistake. Oh no, he’s keeping this as close to the chest as possible. But there was Atkins, right after class, greeting the quiet kid with a clap on the shoulder. Bryce had no idea they were friends, but it allowed him an excuse to invite himself into their conversation.
The dark-haired boy looked up at him in confusion. He wasn’t bad-looking for a dude; clear complexion and big blue eyes. Good enough that it would be believable, once Bryce bought him some nicer clothes. Naturally, Bryce ignored his prime candidate, and demanded to know if Atkins was coming to the party that he just invented on the spot.
“Sure,” said Jeff, easy-going as always.
“You should come too,” Bryce said to the quiet boy, with a warm, inviting smile.
“Uhm, thanks, but-”
“Yup, Clay will be there!” said Jeff, clapping the quiet kid on the arm with an easy, friendly gesture.
“Great,” Bryce grinned, and sauntered off, careful not to show any undue interest. Not yet. He’d have to play it safe with this one. This wasn’t just some girl he was trying to persuade to date him, after all. This time, he was in it for the long haul.