Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (12 page)

Lane smiled, relieved that Vivi had so clearly gotten the message. Isabelle, meanwhile, looked at them like they were speaking in tongues. Which, in a way, they were.

"Um, isn't four kind of early for dinner?" Isabelle asked. "Doesn't your dad have to work?"

Lane's mind went completely blank. "He has the afternoon off, right?" Vivi said loudly, grabbing Lane's arm.

"Y eah. Didn't you mention that yesterday?" Curtis put in.

"What? Oh. Y eah. So we're gonna... go shopping first and then, you know, eat. Dinner. Together. After four."

Isabelle blinked. "Oh."

The bell rang. Ten seconds too late.

"See ya!" Lane blurted. She darted into class and grabbed the stool in the far back corner, hiding behind the easel that held her senior project. Her nerves didn't stop sizzling until the second bell rang and the door was

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closed. Thank God prom was less than two weeks away. This was not a lifestyle she could maintain for very long.

Lane was at her locker at the end of the day, rummaging through her things for her history notebook, when she felt someone watching her. She looked up to see Curtis's brown eyes hovering around the side of the locker door, and she yelped.

"God! Y scared me," Lane said, blushing.

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Curtis laughed and popped his gum as he came around the open door. "I've been there for, like, two minutes," he said. "Y were deep in ou concentration."

"I can't find my history notebook, and we have an exam tomorrow," Lane said, tucking her red hair behind her ear as she crouched down to check the books on the floor of her locker. "I must have left it in class."

"Y want me to go get it for you?" Curtis asked, pointing over his shoulder.

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Lane's blush deepened at the chivalrous offer. "Really? Thanks."

"No problem. As long as you agree to go to the mall with me right now," Curtis said with a grin.

Right. Of course. He couldn't just be offering to something nice for her just to offer.

"I thought you were basically grounded," Lane sighed, hoisting her messenger bag onto her shoulder.

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"Y eah, but even my dad knows a guy can't go to the prom without a tux," Curtis said.

Lane suddenly felt as if she were moving through mud. The prom. He was getting a tux for the prom. So that must mean he had a date. He had asked someone. And that someone had said yes. He wouldn't be dropping eighty bucks on a tux unless he was planning on using it.

"And you know I have, like, zero style, so ...,was Curtis said, rubbing a hackey sack ball between his palms. Lane glanced at him. His ripped-in-seven- places jeans, the layered T-shirts, the watch she'd given him for his sixteenth birthday, which he wore every day. Had he been wearing it when he'd asked this random girl to the prom? The very idea made her ill. "What do you say? Will you come? I don't want to look like a tool."

For her. Y don't want to look like a tool for her. Whoever she is, Lane thought.

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"Hey, guys!" Vivi said, showing up at the exact perfect moment. Her cheeks were ruddy from eighth-period gym, and she was breathless from jogging all the way across the school. "Here. Y left this in class," she said, slapping Lane's history notebook against Lane's chest. "Ready to go?"

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"Y eah." Lane shoved the book in her bag and zipped it up. "We have plans, remember?" she said to Curtis. "Vivi and I are going to meet Jonathan."

"Oh, right," Curtis said, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Well, can't you, like, postpone it for an hour or something?"

"For what?" Vivi demanded.

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"He wants to go to the mall," Lane explained.

"Uh, no," Vivi said, slamming Lane's locker for her. "This is Operation Skewer Sluttig, remember? This is way more important than shopping."

Curtis's eyebrows knitted. "But I--was

"Y said you were out, and that's fine, but it doesn't mean you can bogart my main ally," Vivi said, slinging her arm over Lane's shoulders. "Besides, I

ou thought you were grounded."

Then Vivi pulled Lane around a stunned Curtis and strolled off down the hall. "We'll call you and let you know how it goes!" Vivi shouted to him.

In her entire life, Lane had never been so grateful for Vivi's tendency to take charge and make decisions for her.

"Y totally saved me back there," Lane said gratefully.

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Vivi shrugged. "Don't I always?"

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* * * * eleven * * * *

Waiting outside the front door of Jonathan's brick Tudor- style house, Vivi couldn't seem to make her knees stop bouncing. She held the box of books and movies Lane had put together in front of her, and the stuff inside kept knocking around.

"What's up with you?" Lane finally asked.

"Nothing. Just psyched to get started," Vivi replied, staring at the slats of the wooden door, the iron number 22 in the center. It was a big house, but not that big. And they'd rung the bell a good minute ago already.

"Y eah. Me too. Psyched," Lane said flatly. "But that doesn't explain why you're wearing that top. Y ou're all... dressy."

Vivi's face reddened. Snagged. She had put on and taken off the trendy purple top her mother had bought for her birthday about ten times and eventually left it on. It had been hanging in her closet untouched for four months.

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Not that she was trying to impress anyone, of course. Certainly not Jonathan. "It's not that dressy," Vivi said innocently, balancing the box of stuff on her hip.

"Y eah, but you're a T-shirt person," Lane said.

"And tank tops," Vivi pointed out.

"Y eah, but not--was

"Can we drop this, please?" Vivi snapped. "God, sometimes your whole 'I'm so observant' thing is a little annoying."

Lane's face crumbled, and Vivi instantly felt guilty. But just then the door opened and Jonathan stood before them in a worn gray Cranston Prep sweatshirt and distressed khaki shorts. He had somehow gotten even hotter overnight.

"Finally!" Vivi grumbled, striding by him. "Come on in," he said wryly. "Sorry it took me so long. I was on the phone with work."

"Y work?" Lane asked, stepping inside and looking around.

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"Y eah. At the Cranston movie theater," Jonathan said, sticking close to Lane, Vivi noticed. "If you ever come by, I can get you free popcorn."

"Mmm ... I love movie theater popcorn," Lane gushed.

"Are we doing this or what?" Vivi asked impatiently.

"Well, I can get you free popcorn, anyway," Jonathan said to Lane.

Vivi's face heated up. "Y ou're hilarious, you know that?" she said, hovering near the foot of the wide staircase. She lifted the box slightly. "Where do you want this?"

"I guess up in my room," he said. "Second door on the right."

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Vivi stomped up the wooden stairs and into Jonathan's room. It was a wide, airy space with a huge bay window overlooking the front yard, and it was neater than Vivi's room could ever hope to be. The sports photographs--a signed Derek Jeter, an old-school Ruth and Gehrig, a panorama of Yankee Stadium--were framed and spaced evenly apart from one another on the walls. The bed was made with plain blue sheets. The rattan throw rug was perfectly angled on the floor. The sweaters on the shelves in the open closet were folded, and the hanging clothes organized into sections of shirts, pants, and jackets. Even his shoes were lined up.

"Wow," Vivi said, marveling at the organization. "Anal much?"

"I just cleaned it," Jonathan said as he walked in.

"Oh, just for us?" Vivi tilted her head and let her long blond hair tumble over her shoulder.

Jonathan blushed slightly. "Do you guys, uh, want anything? Soda? Snacks? Anything?"

"Y ou're such a good little host!" Vivi teased, sitting down on his bed. "But we're fine. Let's just get to work."

At that moment, Vivi's cell phone rang. Her heart all but stopped when she saw Isabelle's name on the caller ID.

"Crap. It's Izzy," she said, standing. "Where do I tell her I am?"

"I don't know," Lane said. "Make something up."

Vivi's mind was a complete void. "I can't say I'm at Lonnie's, because she might already be there. And I can't say I'm home, because she might want to stop by."

The phone trilled again.

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"I can't take it! Y answer it." Vivi tossed the phone at Lane.

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"I can't! It's your phone, and I'm supposed to be out with my dad!" Lane threw the phone, and Jonathan picked it right out of the air.

"If she asks, just tell her you're out shopping. But only if she asks. The less detail, the better," he said calmly, handing the phone back to Vivi.

Vivi grabbed it, annoyed. If there was one thing she hated, it was when she lost her cool and someone else got to play the calm and collected one. But still, Jonathan was right. She swallowed hard and opened the phone. "Hey, Iz!" she said brightly.

"Oh my God, Vivi! Brandon is, seriously, the most amazing guy ever," Isabelle gushed.

Vivi's heart relaxed. "Really?" she said happily. "What happened?"

"He went on some florist's website and just sent me an attachment of five different corsages to choose from," Isabelle said. "He wants to make sure he gets it exactly right. Isn't that just the sweetest thing ever?"

"That's so sweet," Vivi said, flashing a thumbs-up at her cohorts. "This guy is going to be your perfect prom date."

"I know! Plus he said he'd be more than happy to come all the way down here this weekend so I don't have to drive," Isabelle added. "We're gonna meet at Lonnie's."

Vivi smiled. Marshall was doing his job so well. "That's great."

"I'm so happy I didn't call Shawn this weekend," Isabelle replied. "Y guys totally saved me. And now all we have to

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do is get Curtis to ask Lane and find your perfect guy and we're good to go!"

Vivi glanced at Jonathan, who was watching her intently. "Y eah. Totally. We have to get on that," she babbled.

"Oops! I gotta go. He's IM-ING me right now," Isabelle said. "Talk to you later."

"Later!" Vivi snapped the phone closed. "She is totally in love with him."

"With who?" Jonathan sat down at his desk, pulled up his feet, and locked his elbows around his knees.

"With you!" Vivi said. "Well, Brandon. The guy we're going to make you into."

"Well, that's good, I guess," Jonathan said. "And see? She didn't even ask where you were."

"Y eah, yeah. Y ou're very smart," Vivi said.

Jonathan grinned flirtatiously at her. "Y know, I'm not the goody-goody you want to think I am."

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Vivi smirked as he held her gaze. She had to concentrate to look away. "Okay. Are we going to do this, or what?"

"Y eah. What'd you bring me?" Jonathan asked Lane, peeking into the box.

"Just a bunch of stuff Brandon is supposed to like." Lane pulled a few books out of the box and handed them to him.

"Y eah. I checked out his page. He's into literature, huh?" He sifted through the novels, and then tossed them onto the bed near his pillow. "There's no way I can read all that."

Lane's jaw dropped. "Y have to."

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"I'm sorry. I'm a slow reader. Especially with novels.

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Fiction is so annoying. Y have to keep track of all these characters, you know? Remember how they look--was

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"And who they know and what they like and where they're from," Vivi agreed. "I know exactly what you mean! I hate ... imagining stuff."

"Wow. We finally agree on something," Jonathan said. He leaned back against his desk chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "If I'm gonna read something, I'd much rather read a historical book or a biography. Something that actually happened."

"Exactly!" Vivi cried.

"Y guys," Lane said.

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"If I could take two history classes and skip English entirely, I would totally do it," Vivi said.

"I know! And don't half the books they make you read just make no sense at all? Like As I Lay Dying. What the hell was that gibberish about?" Jonathan said.

"I hated that book!" Vivi agreed. "I actually threw it at my brother. He had a bruise on his arm for a week."

Jonathan looked at her quizzically. "Why at your brother?"

Vivi shrugged. "He kept telling me what a great piece of literature it was. He had to be stopped."

Jonathan laughed, and Vivi grinned. There it was again. That sexy laugh. "Y guys!" Lane shouted, standing up.

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Vivi looked at her friend. For a second she'd actually forgotten where they were and why.

"We're kind of in a time crunch here," Lane said, ripping her jacket off. She looked at Jonathan. "I'm sorry if you hate fiction,

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but Isabelle loves to read. We hired you to do a job and part of that job is knowing these books. So you will read them."

She plucked A Separate Peace out of the box and handed it to him.

"And by the way, if you read history books and biographies, you still have to 'imagine stuff1'" she said, throwing in some air quotes. "It's not like you were actually there."

She sat down in a huff, and Vivi met Jonathan's gaze.

"Wow. I thought you were the tough one," he said.

"I've never seen her use air quotes before," Vivi replied. "Y ou'd better take her seriously."

"Hello? I'm right here," Lane said, yanking out a printout of Brandon's MySpace page. "Now let's get to work."

***

"This is a total disaster. We should just call it off. I'm serious. This is never going to work," Lane rambled as Vivi pulled up in front of her house. It was a cool evening, and she shivered in her jacket as a stiff breeze rustled the leaves of the oak in the center of her front lawn.

"Wow, you have a fabulously positive attitude," Vivi said, resting her hands on the steering wheel. "Y should have been a cheerleader."

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"I'm not kidding! He hasn't even read Catcher in the Rye!" Lane blurted. "Who hasn't read Catcher in the Rye?"

Vivi pulled a face and raised her hand. "Uh ... me?"

Lane blinked. "Then how did you pass the paper?"