Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (3 page)

BOOK: Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian
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The basement door opened. "Hi, honey! I'm home!" Vivi's mother trilled jokingly as she tromped down the stairs.

She was wearing one of her more colorful head scarves, with her curly blond hair sticking out in two perfect triangles on either side of her head from her ears to her shoulders. Huge wooden monstrosities dangled from her earlobes, and her makeup was even more elaborate than usual. As always, Vivi's mom had gone all-out for her work party that evening. It was one of the hazards of working at the regional theater,

20

chandchandchandi

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the Starlight Playhouse. There was, apparently, a lot of pressure to look as boho kooky as possible.

"I just thought you girls might want some snacks!" She lifted a grease-stained brown bag. "Leftovers from the cast party!"

"Oooh! I knew I loved you for a reason." Vivi grabbed the bag from her mother. Inside was a stack of white takeout plates with clear covers. Mini hot dogs, mini quiches, mini spring rolls. She tore off the lids and started laying the food out on the table.

"Hi, Ms. Swayne," Lane said, standing up. She walked around the table and hugged Vivi's mom.

"Hello, dear!" Vivi's mother exclaimed, high on life. "What are you girls doing? Movie night? Got anything good?" She inspected the array of films. "Oh! Kate Winslet? I just love her. The actress who starred in my production of Twelfth Night last month reminded me so much of her."

"Cool, Mom. And we'd love to hear all about it. Really. But Isabelle's gonna be here any second so ..." Vivi advanced on her mother, steering her back toward the stairs.

"Oh. Okay. Well, if you girls need anything--was

"We won't," Vivi said, patting her mother on the back. "But thanks for the snacks."

Her mother's shoulders drooped, and her hundreds of plastic bracelets clicked together. "Okay. Well. I'll be upstairs."

"Bye!" Vivi smiled until her mother was gone, then turned around and rolled her eyes. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her oversized track hoodie and slumped down onto the couch.

22

"I don't know why you're so mean to her," Lane said with a sigh, munching on one of the mini hot dogs.

"Lane, you know that she'd stay down here all night if I didn't kick her out," Vivi said, grabbing a quiche from one of the plates. "She thinks she's one of us."

"Well, she's cooler than my mom," Lane said, pulling her long hair into a high ponytail.

Vivi laughed. "I'd give anything to have your mom."

Lane's mother worked as an image consultant at a huge media conglomerate in New Y ork. She was stylish, sophisticated, and unmeddling. In other words, the exact opposite of drama queen Sylvia Swayne.

"Y eah, well, if I ever see her, I'll tell her you said that," Lane deadpanned.

The doorbell rang, and Vivi and Lane both jumped up. "Finally!"

"I got it!" Vivi shouted.

She barreled up the stairs with Lane on her heels and slid across the hallway in her socks. But when she got there, her younger brother, Marshall, was already talking to Isabelle, who was eyeing him uncertainly from the front step, as most people eyed Vivi's book-loving, pasty-faced brother. His blond hair was, as always, slicked back from his face with some thick gel, and he was wearing a T-shirt that read love me, love my mac. Vivi wanted to groan just looking at him. The kid could have been somewhat cute and maybe halfway cool if he wasn't so intent on being a dork.

"I got it, loser," Vivi told him, hip-checking him out of the way.

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"Shut up," Marshall grumbled, blushing slightly. "See you later, guys. I'll be in the living room," he told them.

"Don't care," Vivi shot back. Marshall narrowed his green eyes--exactly the same shade as Vivi's--and went.

"Bye, Marshall," Isabelle said, polite as ever.

She stepped inside, and Vivi closed the door. "Okay, what do you want to watch first? The Holiday? She's the Man?. Erin Brockovich? "Iz?" Lane said uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

Vivi's heart clenched, and she turned around. Tears were streaming down Isabelle's face. She dropped her Kate Spade overnight bag on the floor and wailed, "He's going to the prom with her!"

"Omigod, Izzy!" Lane said. "How did you . . . Who told you?"

"She did! I ran into her at the mall, and she was all showing off about it!" Isabelle cried. "He's taking her to the prom in the tux I picked out. The one that I paid for!"

"What an asshole," Vivi said through her teeth. The prom meant everything to Izzy. They all knew this, especially Shawn. It wasn't like Vivi wanted Isabelle to go with him, but for him to ask someone else, and for her to find out this way, was devastating. "Am I allowed to kill him yet?" Vivi asked.

"I hate him," Isabelle said as she gasped for air. "I hate him so much!"

As Lane hugged Isabelle, Vivi saw something move from the corner of her eye. Her brother was standing just on the other side of the open doorway to the living room, listening to every word that was said. She shot him a look that

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could have melted steel and put her arm around Isabelle's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go downstairs," Vivi said. was 'Kay," Isabelle replied, her voice all watery.

After about ten minutes of incoherence and sobbing, Isabelle finally calmed down. She looked around the wood- paneled basement with heavy-lidded eyes and sniffled. "What movies did you guys get?" she asked, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her fuzzy sweater.

"We don't have to watch anything if you don't want to," Lane said.

"Y we do! She needs the distraction," Vivi put in, reaching for the DVD's.

es,

"True," Isabelle said weakly.

Vivi got up and popped The Holiday into the DVD player. Just as the previews were starting up, the door to the basement opened and Vivi saw her brother's dorky brown shoes on the stairs.

"Did we invite you down here?" Vivi shouted.

"I'm just bringing you guys some soda," Marshall replied. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs with a bottle of Mug root beer and three plastic cups. "Seemed like you could maybe use something to drink."

"Thanks, Marshall," Lane said, cutting off the insult Vivi was about to spew.

"I love root beer," Isabelle said blankly.

"Well, there you go." Marshall placed everything on the table and backed up. "I'll be upstairs."

"Again, don't care," Vivi replied.

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Marshall shot her an irritated look, but turned around and retreated.

"Vivi, he was just trying to be nice," Isabelle said.

"No. He just has nothing better to do on a Friday night," Vivi said.

She got up, took the stairs two at a time, and latched the old- school lock on the door. On her way back down, she turned off the lights, then settled back on the huge leather sectional between her friends. It was time to put Operation Distract and Empower Izzy into motion. No more diversions.

***

Vivi tossed a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth as Kate Winslet slammed the door on her idiot ex-boyfriend's face and threw her arms in the air. Vivi couldn't have picked a more perfect post-breakup movie than The Holiday. Cameron Diaz and Kate both think their lives are over after breaking up with their respective jerks, and then they both find real happiness. It was an inspired choice, if she did think so herself. She glanced over at Isabelle, half- expecting to see her grinning with romantic inspiration. Isabelle, however, was staring at the floor, chewing on her thumbnail.

"What's the matter?" Vivi said, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. "Y ou're not even watching!"

"I know," Isabelle said. She pulled her knees up and sat back. "I can't stop thinking about Shawn. What do you think he's doing tonight?"

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Uh, getting dirty with a certain skank? Vivi thought.

"I don't know, Iz," Lane said.

Isabelle bit her lip. "Do you think we could still get back together?"

Vivi sat up so fast, she dumped half the bowl of popcorn on the cold cement floor. "What?"

"Vivi," Lane said in a warning tone.

"Y just told us he asked Tricia to the prom. What are you thinking?" Vivi asked.

ou

"I know," Isabelle said. She ran her hands up into her hair. "I know. It's just ... I love him so much. Tricia's not going to make him happy. And the prom is still a few weeks away. . . .was

"Omigod, do you even hear yourself?" Vivi blurted, gripping the couch cushions at her sides. "Y ou're worried that he's not gonna be happy? You're the one who's miserable!"

"Y don't have to attack her," Lane said, zipping her fleece hoodie all the way up as if for protection.

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"I was just. . . talking," Isabelle added, averting her gaze.

"Y ou're talking about getting back together with him after he cheated on you. After he asked someone else to the prom," Vivi pointed out. She shoved herself out of her seat and started pacing in front of the TV, where Kate was paused in midcelebration. "I mean, come on. When does it end? Forget all the little breakups." She raised her hand to tick off the big ones. "Y took him back after he skipped the play last year. Y took him back after the sweet

ou ou sixteen debacle. Y took him back after he dumped you on the day of your Stanford interview. Remember how freaked you were? Y might not

ou ou

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have gotten in because of him! And now he cheats on you and rubs it in your face and you still want him? When are you going to see that you deserve much better than Shawn S/wrtig?"

"Oh, that's very mature," Isabelle sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Calm down, Viv," Lane said, scooting forward and grabbing a mini quiche off the table.

"Why should I?" Vivi said. "Seriously. It's time for an intervention."

"Don't say something you'll regret," Lane said in her schoolteacher tone. "I mean, if you rip him to shreds and then they get back together--was

"They are not getting back together!" Vivi protested, her hands on her hips.

"Uh, I'm right here." Isabelle raised her hand, sounding frustrated. "And you can't tell me what to do, Viv."

"Well, I should be able to," Vivi replied, her blood boiling. "Clearly you're incapable of making your own decisions. I want you to be happy, and all Shawn does is make you miserable. Y relationship with him is all one-sided."

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Isabelle's face screwed up in consternation, and she stood, facing off with Vivi over the coffee table. "Oh, please. What do you know about relationships? Y haven't had one that's lasted more than a month since Daniel! Shawn and I have been together for four years!"

ou

"Probably more like two if you factor in all the times you've broken up," Vivi shot back.

"Y guys--,was Lane said.

ou

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"Well, at least I'm not always reeling guys in and then torturing them until they dump me!" Isabelle replied.

Vivi felt as if she'd been slapped. "What?"

"Oh God, Viv. I'm sorry," Isabelle said. She briefly covered her mouth with her hand. "I didn't mean that."

Vivi had to sit down again. Was that really what her friends thought she did? Systematically tortured guys?

"I'm sorry, Vivi," Isabelle repeated. "Really."

Lane looked at Vivi hopefully. Vivi took a deep breath and combed her fingers through her thick ponytail. She was a champion at the uncalled-for word bomb. There was no way she could hold it against Isabelle without being a huge hypocrite. Especially in Izzy's current state.

"It's okay," Vivi said, grabbing Izzy's hand and squeezing it.

Isabelle took a deep breath and turned to fold up the afghan she'd been huddled under all night long. "I should just go."

"What? We haven't even gotten to the ice cream yet," Lane protested.

"I'm really not in the mood for ice cream," Isabelle said apologetically.

Vivi suddenly felt desperate. This whole night had been intended to distract Isabelle and help her get over Shawn, and it hadn't worked in the slightest.

"Don't go, Iz," Vivi said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to attack you. I j... I don't want you to go backward. I mean, you're gonna be at Stanford next year. It's gonna be a whole new world, you know? New people, new guys.... Why would you want to go backward?"

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Isabelle's eyes watered as she shrugged. "I love him. I'm sorry I can't just turn that off."

She took a step past Vivi and grabbed her pink Nine West raincoat and Kate Spade overnight bag off the floor. "Thanks for trying, guys. I do appreciate it. I just kind of want my own bed right now, you know?"

Vivi and Lane exchanged a defeated look. "We know."

They walked Isabelle upstairs, and Vivi gave her a hug before sending her off to her car. When Vivi closed the door, her shoulders sagged.

"How are we ever going to get her over him if she doesn't want to?" she asked.

Lane shook her head. "I don't know."

Vivi stared at the tiled floor of the foyer. "Y know, I could have a long relationship if I wanted one. It's just that the guys at school can't handle me."

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"I know."

Lane put her arm around Vivi's back and Vivi rested the side of her head atop Lane's. Together they shuffled toward the kitchen with its 1970's avocado countertops and yellow Formica table. Vivi's mother loved kitch, and therefore hadn't changed one thing in their kitchen since buying the house from an elderly couple when Vivi was still in kindergarten. Vivi yanked open the ancient freezer and took out a few pints of ice cream while Lane went for spoons and bowls and toppings. Within two minutes they had put together a pair of towering sundaes. Vivi took a huge bite, dripping chocolate sauce down over her hand. She grabbed a napkin from the ceramic cow holder at the center of the kitchen table and sighed.

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"All right. That's it," she said, sitting up straight.

"What's it?" Lane asked warily, nearly losing some of her ice cream out the side of her mouth.

"We are going to come up with a way to keep Isabelle away from Sluttig," Vivi said, determined.

"Like what? Kidnapping?" Lane asked.

Vivi narrowed her eyes, imagining Shawn tied up in a rat-infested basement somewhere, wearing nothing but dirty rags and begging for mercy. "Nothing that drastic," she said. She grabbed her bowl and spoon and a few more napkins. "Come on. Let's go up to my room and brainstorm."

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