She shook her head, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across her face, transforming her expression. "Wow… okay… that's… that's actually heartbreakingly sweet." The usual Toya cynicism evaporated completely. "Oh, bless her cotton socks!"

  "Dipa! Going through your notoriously brutal training regime…" The slight emphasis on 'your' was back, but this time it felt less like a jab and more like acknowledging his reputation for intensity.

  "...all because some random dude expressed a preference for abs over personality?"

  "Oh, honey, no!"

  Her expression softened further, genuine affection flooding her features. "She has the biggest, dumbest, kindest heart, that girl," Toya murmured, almost to herself. "Honestly, I really, really hope this works out for her. Or, even better, I hope she gets super fit and then tells the guy to take a hike because she realized she's awesome regardless."

  Her gaze snapped back to James, suddenly fierce and determined. "Okay, James. New directive. You have to help her nail this."

  "We gotta get her feeling like a superhero! Make sure she succeeds! This is officially Operation: Get Dipa's Groove Back (and Maybe Impress That Guy, Whatever)."

  And then, just as James was thinking, 'Wow, maybe Toya has hidden depths of supportive friendship,' it happened. He literally saw the shift behind her eyes. It was like a software update finished installing – 'Genuine Concern Module' minimized, 'Opportunistic Scheme Generator v.3.0' maximized. The warmth didn't vanish entirely, but it was instantly shoved aside by that familiar, shrewd, calcuting glint that always made James slightly nervous.

  Her lips curved upwards into a slow, sly, Cheshire Cat grin. Oh boy. Here we go.

  "Wait just a cotton-picking minute…" she murmured, tapping a perfectly cquered fingernail against her chin, her eyes narrowing as the mental cogs started whirring at hypersonic speed. He could practically see the complex flowcharts and contingency pns unfolding in her brain. "This… oh, this is good. This is really good."

  She leaned in again, her voice dropping to an excited, conspiratorial whisper that vibrated with barely contained glee. "This actually works out perfectly, James. Like, cosmically aligned perfect. For us."

  James felt his eyebrow achieve escape velocity. "Us?" he echoed, skepticism dripping from the word. "How, in the name of all that is logical, does Dipa's quest for 'athletic' approval possibly benefit our increasingly absurd fake dating theatre production?" He gestured vaguely between them, encompassing the whole ridiculous charade.

  Toya's grin widened until it threatened to split her face. She looked like she'd just found a loophole in the ws of physics. "Our 'retionship', you dense muffin! Think strategically for two seconds!"

  she whisper-scolded, tapping his arm lightly. "We need evidence, right? We need public appearances! We need moments that scream 'Look how sickeningly in love we are'!"

  "We need to counter any lingering suspicion!" Her eyes sparkled with the pure, unadulterated joy of a scheme falling perfectly into pce. "What is more quintessentially 'couple goals' than working out together? Getting all sweaty and motivated side-by-side?"

  "Maybe even sharing a water bottle?"

  "We are absolutely not sharing a water bottle," James interjected ftly.

  "Details, details," Toya waved him off. "The point is! We can 'coincidentally' find ourselves jogging in that exact same park tomorrow afternoon. Right when Dipa is scheduled for her training torture – I mean, session – with you!"