She ticked off the points on her fingers. "Public location? Check! Totally believable activity for two people who are pretending to date and are both reasonably active?"

  "Double check! It is the fwless cover for our next mandatory public dispy of fake affection!"

  She beamed, radiating smug ingenuity. "It solidifies our narrative! Gives us a legit, non-school-reted reason to be seen together! It's chef's kiss perfect!"

  "Admit it, I'm brilliant."

  James emitted a long, slow groan, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. Fantastic. Just freaking fantastic. Another yer of complexity, another potential social ndmine added to the already precarious structure of their fake retionship.

  Using Dipa's earnest, crush-driven fitness journey as a backdrop felt… well, it felt kind of gross. Like using a puppy as a prop.

  "Toya," he said slowly, trying to appeal to the tiny sliver of reasonableness he sometimes suspected lurked beneath the surface. "Isn't that… I don't know… deeply messed up? Using Dipa like this? She thinks you're worried about her, remember?"

  "Not using her workout as a stage."

  "Using is such a harsh word," Toya countered smoothly, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. "I prefer… synergizing. We're leveraging an existing situation for mutual benefit! It's efficiency!"

  "We get our 'couple time' in, and we get to be super supportive friends to Dipa! See? Win-win-win!" She conveniently ignored the potential 'Dipa feels awkward and used' outcome.

  Okay, fine. He had to admit, grudgingly, infuriatingly, that her logic, while morally questionable, was strategically sound. It was a pusible scenario. And maybe… just maybe… having Toya there, with her relentless cheerfulness (even if occasionally weaponized), might actually make the sessions less awkward for Dipa?

  Less like intense training, more like friends hanging out? Maybe? The mental gymnastics were giving him a cramp.

  "Okay," he sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of his compromised principles and burgeoning headache. "Fine. Whatever. Operation: Park Ambush… sorry, Operation: Fitness Date… is greenlit."

  He shuddered slightly saying the name. "But," he added, locking eyes with her, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument, "I am dead serious about this, Toya. We are there, first and foremost, to support Dipa. We cheer her on."

  "We offer genuine encouragement. We spot her if she needs it. We do not spend the entire time making goo-goo eyes at each other or staging fake arguments for dramatic effect. The focus is Dipa."

  "Got it?"

  Toya executed a crisp, mock salute, her grin undiminished. "Sir, yes, sir! Maximum support protocol engaged! Operation: Impress the Crush (and Solidify Fake Romance) is officially go for unch!"

  "We'll be the best darn support crew Dipa's ever had!" She winked, oozing confidence.

  "So, she's really sticking it out? Your legendary 'feel the burn' routine?"

  "All for some dude?" She chuckled, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

  "Wow. That's either Shakespearean levels of devotion or Stage Five desperation."

  James frowned again, feeling a surge of protectiveness towards Dipa. "Hey, knock it off. She's determined," he insisted, his voice sharper than intended. "And for the record, she's doing amazing."

  "Shows up before the sun, gives 110 percent, barely compins… even when I make her do burpees."

  "Alright, alright, chill, Papa Bear," Toya smirked, unfazed. "Noted. Dipa is a determined badass. Message received."