“Hey no, don’t laugh. I’m being dead serious.” A sigh fell from her lips as she dropped her gaze, quite embarrassed about the question she had to bother her best friend with. “I really need you to pretend to be my date to this party my parent’s are hosting. It’s like, required or something. I promise that as soon as they see us, I can find a way to get you out of there and I’ll just say you weren’t feeling good or something. I swear I’ll make it up to you if you just do me this tiny favor.”

Okay, she couldn’t help it, her jaw dropped a little. Masumi felt simultaneously honored and intimidated by the offer, the notion of being seen as Daisy’s girlfriend and not girl (space) friend. Could Miss Best Friend hear the heart thump-thumping the cage of the ribs? Or perhaps that was just the sound of Masumi stammering through her sentence — “Most of my family parties don’t require me to have a trophy girlfriend.” Perhaps the tone was a little accusatory, but then again, Masumi had never even gone on a fake date, much less enter a fake relationship. 

codes by