Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (18 page)

Lane stared at Vivi, venom in her eyes. "Y did this, Vivi. I warned you this was going to happen, but you didn't listen. It's not my responsibility to clean

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Vivi felt a brand-new thump of guilt in her chest. Technically, Lane was right. This was all Vivi's fault. But that

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didn't change the fact that it needed to be fixed. For Isabelle's sake.

"Please?" Vivi whispered. "Come on, Lane. For Isabelle. Please?"

Lane took a deep breath and stared off down the hallway to the kitchen. For a split second, Vivi was sure that she'd failed--that all hope was lost. But then, Lane looked at her again, her expression resigned and her shoulders slumped.

"Fine," she said, lifting a weak hand and letting it drop. "I just have to make a call."

***

Lane pulled her mother's Jaguar to a stop in front of Jonathan's house and killed the engine. She speed-dialed Curtis for the third time and held her breath. As the phone rang, she checked out Jonathan's house, half-hoping to find the driveway empty and the house all closed up. Unfortunately several windows were open to let in the warm spring air, and she could hear music coming from an upstairs window. Finally the phone clicked over.

"Curtis here. Today's song is 'Graduate' by Third Eye Blind."

Lane groaned through the few bars of the song she'd already heard two times in the past half hour. Finally, mercifully, the beep.

"Curtis, it's Lane again. Did you get my other messages?" she asked as she climbed out of the car and slammed the

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door. "I'm so sorry I had to run out, but if you call me and give me directions to the party, I'll meet you there. So, j... call me. Okay. Thanks. Bye."

She hung up and shoved the phone into her jacket pocket. Why hadn't Curtis called her back yet? Had he not gotten her messages? Was he at her empty house right now ringing the doorbell over and over again? Or had he gotten the messages and was just so mad, he didn't even want to call her back?

I hate Vivi. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate her! Lane thought as she speed-walked to the front door and rang the bell.

Feeling murderous by this point, Lane rang the bell again, pushing it so hard, she was pretty sure she sprained her finger. She was still shaking out her hand when Jonathan opened the door. His face registered obvious surprise.

"Hey," Lane said, suddenly realizing she'd been so busy trying to call Curtis that she hadn't remotely planned out what to say.

"Hey," he replied. "Come in."

He ducked his head and shoved his hand in the pocket of his madras shorts. Maybe it was a good thing Vivi hadn't come herself, because in his baby blue polo, with his tan legs exposed, looking all sheepish, he was totally adorable.

Jonathan led Lane into the kitchen, where his mother--a tall preppy woman with short blond hair--was chopping vegetables.

"Mom, this is my friend Lane," Jonathan said. "Lane, my mom."

"Hi," Lane said, feeling awkward.

Jonathan's mother wiped her hands on her apron and

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smiled. "Hi, Lane. Nice to meet you." Then she looked at Jonathan quizzically.

"We're just gonna go in the family room for a sec, okay?" Jonathan asked.

"Sure. Do you want anything to drink or eat, Lane?" she asked.

"No thanks," Lane said.

"Well, call me if you need anything," she said, before returning to her chopping.

Jonathan turned and walked down a couple of steps into the family room. Playing on the TV was an episode of Junk Brothers, one of "Brandon's" favorite shows. Lane raised her eyebrows at Jonathan.

"Y eah. Y guys got me into this," he said, lifting the remote to mute it. He walked around the coffee table and stood, facing her. "S. What's up?"

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"Nothing. Sorry if I'm bothering you," she said.

"Y ou're not. But my friends are gonna be here in a minute," he said. "So ..."

"So why am I here?" Lane asked.

"I think I know why you're here," Jonathan replied, scratching the back of his neck and looking away, like he was embarrassed. "Vivi told you what happened."

"She told me you quit," Lane said. "So I was just hoping to talk you back into it."

"Wow. And you sound very enthusiastic about it," Jonathan joked.

Lane managed a weak smile. She walked around and perched on the arm of the velvet love seat. "Look, I know

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you think we're both insane, but Isabelle's not. She's actually incredibly cool and sweet and awesome. And she's the one that's gonna be hurt if you don't come. Maybe we shouldn't have started this whole thing, but we did. So I guess I'm just asking you to consider her feelings."

Jonathan looked at her, almost amused, and Lane realized what she was saying. She chuckled and looked at the floor, feeling like a complete idiot.

"Consider the feelings of a total stranger who you are in no way responsible for," she said, nodding her head.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said. "I really am. But I knew from the beginning I shouldn't have gotten involved in this. I know you think what you're doing for your friend is a good thing, but it's not. Y took away her chance to make a decision for herself."

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Lane's heart felt hollow. Jonathan had no idea how ironic his words sounded to her. She felt as if she'd never made her own decision for herself ever in her life, and now he was accusing her of making Izzy's decisions for her. Was that what she had done? Was it possible that, by participating in Vivi's insane scheme, she was taking more charge of Isabelle's life than she'd ever taken of her own?

She realized at that moment that she had known this was never going to work--that she had no chance of talking Jonathan in to coming back. After all, she wasn't the type-A personality of her particular group. But she'd come anyway. She'd come because it was somehow easier than looking at Vivi and saying no. Jonathan picked up his backpack from the floor and yanked a thick envelope out of the outside pocket.

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"*"was

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"Here," he said, handing it to her. "It's the money Vivi paid me. I appreciate your situation, Lane, I really do. But it's your problem. Not mine."

"Okay," Lane said, her voice thick with tears. She couldn't believe this was happening. Isabelle was going to be crushed, and it was all her fault. Hers and Vivi's. Not only was Izzy going to be dumped by the person she had called her "dream guy," she was also going to have no date for the prom. Unless Shawn hadn't asked someone yet, and then she'd be going with the devil himself. How had it all gone so wrong?

"Y all right?" Jonathan asked. "Y look like you just lost your best friend."

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"Or all three of them," Lane said morosely. Vivi was going to be pissed. Curtis was going to be hurt. And once Isabelle got dumped, she was going to sink into the biggest depression of her life. All because of one stupid little scheme.

"What do you mean?" Jonathan sat on the opposite arm of the love seat and put his feet up on the cushions.

"Y don't want to hear about it," Lane said, blushing.

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"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't," Jonathan said with a kind smile.

Lane glanced at him. Could she really tell him what was wrong? She'd gone so long without really telling anyone what she was really feeling. But why not Jonathan? He was a nice guy, and it wasn't like he was going to tell anyone what she said. He'd basically just cut all ties with her and her friends. Lane shoved his money into her purse and turned to him.

"Do you remember Curtis?" she asked.

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"The guy from the diner the first night. Sure," Jonathan said. "He's been IM-ING with my brother about video games."

Lane smiled. "He has?"

"Danny thinks he's way cooler than I am," Jonathan said with a laugh. "Why?"

"The thing is, I've liked him basically forever," Lane said, shoving herself up and pacing toward the bookcase on the wall. "And he ..."

"He has no idea," Jonathan finished for her.

"Kind of," Lane said.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Jonathan asked.

"Because I can't!" Lane said, feeling pathetic. "I've planned it out, like, a million different ways, but every time I try I chicken out. And every time I chicken out I feel like an even bigger loser. Plus, he's been my friend, like, forever. And if things go wrong, I don't want to lose that."

"Ah."

"But then the other day he asked me to go to this party tonight and, I don't know, maybe I'm just reading into it or whatever, but I think he was asking me, you know? Like as his date?" Lane said hopefully.

"This party is tonight?" Jonathan asked, pointing at the floor.

"Y eah."

"Then why the heck are you here?" Jonathan asked.

Lane's face turned purple. She toyed with the spine of an old book on one of the shelves. "Because Vivi made me come."

"She made you?" Jonathan blurted.

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"Well, yeah! I mean, we had to save the plan, right? And she couldn't come over here so--was

"Lane, don't take this the wrong way, but get out of my house," Jonathan said, not unkindly.

"What?" she gasped.

Jonathan walked around the coffee table and put his hands on her shoulders. "Do you realize what's going on here? Y ou've wanted this guy your entire life and tonight might have been your best shot with him, but instead you're here, doing what you think will make Vivi happy. What you think will make Isabelle happy. What about you?"

Lane's heart started to pound. He was right. He was totally right.

"Vivi has totally messed with your mind," Jonathan continued, bringing his hands to his temples in frustration as he paced away. "She's somehow got you believing that her plan to help Isabelle is more important than anything. Even more important than you or me. Well, that's crap!"

"Y ou're right!" Lane replied, her adrenaline pumping. "That is crap!"

"Y ou're important! Y ou're a beautiful, smart, funny girl! I think you should track this Curtis dude down and tell him he'd be an idiot not to go out with you," Jonathan ranted, throwing his arm out.

"Y eah! He would!" Lane grabbed her purse.

"Good! Now go!" Jonathan said with a smile, pointing at the door.

"Okay! I will!" Lane replied, all riled up. She turned and stormed up the stairs, but stopped at the door and turned her

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head. "Y really think I'm beautiful, smart, and funny?" she asked quietly.

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"Go!" Jonathan said with a laugh.

And she did, as quickly as possible, grinning the whole way.

"Everything okay, Lane?" Mrs. Hess called after her.

"Everything's fine! Nice to meet you!" Lane shouted back.

Then she slammed the front door of Jonathan's house and ran for her car, her heart pounding with excitement.

***

It has to work. It has to, Vivi thought, clutching her cell phone as she walked upstairs to her room after a big bowl of ice cream. Please, Lane. Pull off a miracle.

She was just shoving through the door to her room, where Marshall was sitting--as always these days--in front of the computer, when her phone rang. Vivi's heart slammed into her rib cage. Lane.

"Lane! What happened?" Vivi blurted into the phone.

Marshall turned around in the desk chair and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Vivi had already apprised him of the situation, so he was all ears.

"He didn't go for it," Lane said, sounding strangely giddy. "He's out."

"What?" Vivi blurted. The room started to spin. Marshall hung his head in his hands.

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"He's out," Lane repeated. "Sorry. I gotta go."

"Sorry? Sorry!?" Vivi blurted, gripping the phone so hard, her fingertips hurt. "Lane, where are you? Y can't just give up! We've got to--was

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But the line went dead. Vivi groaned and speed-dialed Lane right back, but it went directly to voice mail. "Dammit!" Vivi blurted, tossing her phone on her bed.

"He didn't change his mind?" Marshall asked.

"No, Marshall, he didn't change his mind," Vivi replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh my God. What are we going to do? There has to be something we can do," she said, starting to pace.

Marshall stood up and walked to the window, staring out on their quiet street. "I hate to say this, Vivi, but I don't think there is," he said quietly, chewing on his thumbnail.

"Marshall," Vivi blurted, frustrated. "If you say I told you so1' I will hurl you right out that window."

"I'm not!" Marshall replied. "But what are you going to do? Hire a stand-in? It's too late! She's met the guy now. If he's not coming to the prom, then no one is."

Vivi's heart had never felt so sick. She moaned and sat down on the edge of her bed, putting her elbows on her thighs and her head in her hands. "This is not happening. It is not happening...."

Isabelle was going to be devastated. Crushed. And why? All because Vivi had concocted this stupid plan. "I thought I was doing the right thing," Vivi said, looking up at Marshall, her feet bouncing up and down. "I didn't want her to let Shawn hurt her again. No one did."

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"I know," Marshall said simply. "And there was a point there when I really thought it was going to work."

"Really?" Vivi said, tears springing to her eyes.

"Really. But unfortunately..." Marshall looked over at the computer screen. Vivi stared at its whitish-blue glow.

"It didn't," she said, her voice flat. Her heart was so heavy, it was making her shoulders curl forward. This was it. This was the end. She felt as if she'd just resigned herself to a life of friendlessness and solitude. "Y need to write to Isabelle and tell her Brandon can't come to the prom."

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"Y ou're sure?" Marshall said.

"What else can we do?" Vivi stood up and letting her arms drop at her sides. "The sooner we do it, the better. We can't leave her waiting until prom night thinking she still has a date."

Marshall took a deep breath and laced his fingers together on top of his head, his elbows jutting out like wings. Then he blew out the breath and turned toward the desk, determined. "Okay. Let's do this."