‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧.
This isn't a fact that most people would be too thrilled to hear, but it's a fact nonetheless.
As far as the planning itself goes, the whole scheme is (in her own entirely unbiased opinion) practically faultless. The only problem is, however, that if she wants her plan to work, she also needs to come up with a so-called secondary plan: and it has to be good enough to persuade Silena Valentine to participate in her evil plot.
But just because Mena is skilled at making plans, doesn't mean she's any good at sticking to them.
On the contrary, really.
If searching for an example, just take a look at the aforementioned secondary plan, and the way Mena nearly ruins it by simply blurting out her thoughts the first chance she gets.
"You and I," she announces, balancing her textbook on the top of her head. "Should pretend to be a couple."
And, well, then.
That sure is one way of approaching things.
Afternoons spent at the Valentine household are endlessly pleasant. The warm light inside seems even homelier when in contrast with the stark whiteness outside of the window, where the sparkling snow awaits curious wanderers. The soundtrack of Barbie and the Nutcracker can still be heard faintly through the floorboards, although Lucy had fallen asleep in front of the TV half an hour ago.
Mena herself would prefer a cosy afternoon nap to homework, but she supposes you can't exactly win them all.
Silena seems to share this sentiment. She's sitting at the desk while Mena lounges on the bed, head bent over her chemistry workbook. All bundled up into a warm hoodie, with a steaming mug of cocoa to her right, she almost looks as though she belongs on one of those aesthetic study blogs. The only thing that betrays the perfect peace of this scene is the way she clutches her pen with excessive force, and occasionally looks at the book before her like she wants to set it on fire with her mind.
But other than that, she's peace incarnate, really.
"No."
Silena doesn't even look up from her notes as she says it, and Mena takes this as a grave offence.
"But," she protests, sitting up. The history book falls down on the comforter, entirely forgotten. "I haven't even told you about my plan yet!"
Silena looks up, unimpressed.
"Is there any chance that we can keep it that way?"
"It's a very nice plan," Mena promises.
Silena sighs, leaning back in her chair. Mena chooses to take that as an invitation to keep talking.
"Aren't you angry with Jonah and his friends?"
Silena, as was to be expected, is quite angry.
"Obviously," she says. "Pretending to like someone for your own personal gain is just cruel."
Mena nods, eagerly.
"Right, yes. And it also started as a plot to get you jealous. So, I've been thinking," she pauses, for the drama of it all. "What do you feel like would be the best kind of revenge?"
Silena shrugs.
"I don't know. A punch in the throat?"
Ah, good old Silena. Ever the practical thinker.
"Well, yes," Mena reasons, because she does reckon that a throat punch from the head cheerleader would hurt a great deal. "But I was rather thinking something along the lines of emotional distress. A punishment that fits the crime."
Silena raises an eyebrow, and finally sets her book aside.
Mena counts her victories, even if they're small.
"Basically," she explains, "We'd have him think everything is going according to his plan. I act smitten, you act jealous, and then bam!" she claps her hands together, and Silena winces. "As soon as he makes a real move, you and I pretend to be an item. Not only does he lose the bet, but he loses you, as well. Double yikes."
"Sounds fun," Silena says, and Mena smiles brightly, her hope rising alarmingly fast. "But no."
The smile falls right back down, but her hope was built to handle more than just one hit.
"What? Why not?"
Silena clicks her pen, and motions to the chemistry homework splayed across her desk. It does look a slight bit intimidating.
Mena leans forward and looks at her notes.
"I can help with that," she says, with a casual shrug. "Not to brag, but I'm kind of great at it."
Silena narrows her eyes, but her guard seems to be slowly breaking down.
"I don't know.."
Mena falls back onto the bed, a hand to her forehead.
"Ah, nitko ništa ne zna. Krhko je znanje! Možda je trag-"
"How would it even work?" Silena interrupts, not even paying a little bit of acknowledgement to Mena's frequent dramatic displays. "Would we have to pretend that we're... Together, or whatever, all while you're here?"
Mena purses her lips, thinking about it.
She's vaguely aware that she must look a slight bit ridiculous: making a face characteristic for deep thought while laying on the bed, the strands of her hair going in every possible direction and her sweater riding up her belly. Silena seems to think so too, because she stares at her with a strange look in her big blue eyes.
As soon as Mena looks back, though, she quickly averts her gaze.
"I mean, we could? But we could also just do it for a week, and then have a mutual breakup," Mena pauses. "Well, a fake mutual breakup."
Silena, still staring at the fluffy white carpet of her room, clears her throat.
"Wouldn't it be," she scrunches her nose up. "I don't know. Weird?"
Mena shakes her head.
"I don't see why it would."
Silena seems dubious, and when she thinks about her current position, Mena can see how she isn't exactly the most credible spokesman on the matter of weirdness.
"Are you even a lesbian?"
"No, I'm Croatian."
It's an automatic response, but when Silena looks at her in complete confusion, she adds: "Hah. Sorry. I'm bisexual, actually."
Silena tilts her head, and just studies her. Mena smiles in a way she hopes reads as an incredibly appealing combination of irresistible, trustworthy, and convincing.
Finally, Silena looks away.
"If I were to agree," she compensates for the contents of her words with a stern frown. "We'd have to set some ground rules."
Mena, who has been waiting for this exact moment ever since she first watched To All The Boys I Loved Before, squeals excitedly. She tears a page out of her history notebook, and thrusts it (along with a pink glitter pen) into Silena's hands.
"You have to write them down," she explains, "You have an adultier handwriting."
"Adultier," Silena repeats, accepting the pen.
"Alright," says Mena. "Rule number one: no catching real feelings."
At least, that had always been the first rule in all the fanfics she has read. Who is she to break that tradition now?
Silena rolls her eyes, but dutifully writes it down.
"I feel like I should be more worried about this than you are," she notes. "Didn't you get a crush on a guy after he literally just helped you with your bags?"
"Point," Mena allows. Still, even though Silena is undeniably gorgeous (and her handwriting is straight out of a calligraphy masterclass), she's far too grumpy and straight to be Mena's type. "But I reckon it'll help if we just think of it as a Julianne and George type situation, rather than Lara Jean and Peter."
Silena looks up from her remarkable penmanship to give Mena a blank stare.
"I hope you know that these names mean jackshit to me."
Mena's eyes widen.
"You mean you never watched either of those movies? Because that's frankly embarrassing, and you should probably keep it to yourself."
Silena, predictably, doesn't grant her dramatics with any sort of a reaction.
"Alright. That's fine," Mena huffs. "We'll just have to watch To All The Boys for research, I guess."
"I thought that was the one where they do fall in love."
"Well, yes," says Mena. "But we'll think of it as a guide on what not to do. Like, you probably shouldn't put your hands anywhere near my back pockets, you know? And you definitely can't wait around for me in a hot tub. Because if you do, then we'll just be toast."
Silena, who didn't plan on doing either of those things anyway, only blinks.
"Good to know," she says, and pretends to cross something out.
Mena chuckles, because who would have thought. Perhaps Silena Valentine does have one, singular funny bone, hidden somewhere deep inside of her unfairly attractive body.
"Rule number two?"
Mena hums.
"Probably a list of those who are allowed to know about this being fake. The fewer, the better, obviously, but I feel like Lyrica and Miles wouldn't believe that it's real, anyway."
"I don't think I should tell Emilia," Silena says, after a moment of thought. "She can't keep a secret to save her life."
"Physical contact?"
"Whatever, but minimal PDA."
Mena, who considers herself to be a professional in this field, arches an eyebrow.
"Dude. PDA is literally the fuel of every believable fake relationship."
"Too bad," responds Silena. "I already wrote it down."
She doesn't sound sorry at all, but clearly sees signs of protest appear on Mena's face. Letting down her pen with a sigh, not even the ice queen of Silverwood is a match for Mena's disappointed eyes.
"Fine," she relents. "We can do some PDA. But don't get carried away. And don't smile at me like that."
Mena tries to school her grin, but doesn't entirely succeed.
"Lovely," she says, bouncing up on the bed. "Now, about the grand reveal."
Silena arches an eyebrow.
"The what?"
"You know," says Mena, accompanying her words with a wide hand gesture. "The grand reveal of our relationship's true nature. Or fake nature, I suppose."
Silena thinks about this as she collects her hair into a high ponytail.
"Jonah will probably invite you to the game on Friday," she says. "That's kind of his thing."
Mena snaps her fingers.
"And you'll be cheering there, too?" she waits for Silena to nod. "Okay, perfect. So I come there, make him think it's to see him play, and then run over to kiss you once the game is over, in front of all those people."
"Absolutely not," Silena says, in a tone that leaves no room for further arguments.
"But," Mena begins, incredibly confused.
"No. I'm not kissing you in front of the whole school."
"But," Mena tries again.
"It's out of the question," Silena decides. "Both the team and the cheer squad usually go to a diner after a game, and you and I can make our debut there." Mena still looks unconvinced, so she adds: "All the guys who were in on the bet will be there, and so will all the school's biggest gossips. It's our most sensible option."
Well. That's not quite as grand and climactic as Mena had pictured, but it'll have to do.
"Fine," she grumbles, not unlike a child who has to settle for a homecooked dinner in place of what could have been a Happy Meal. Silena looks at her, still somewhat uncertain about the whole thing.
"Should we... Shake on it?"
Mena readily accepts her barely outstretched hand. They make eye contact as they shake hands, and a victorious grin spreads across Mena's face.
"Now," she says. "Let's work on that chemistry."
And so, the deal is made.