Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (4 page)

"But what about the movie?" Lane asked, stalling.

"Screw the movie," Vivi said, shoving another huge wad of ice cream into her mouth. "This is much more important. We have to save Izzy."

***

"Maybe we could find her a therapist, you know?" Vivi babbled, pacing back and forth behind Lane, who was sitting at the computer in Vivi's bedroom. She had to step over the piles of clothes, books, and random crap all over the floor, and she kept kicking stuff out of her way. "Or a hypnotist! Someone who could deprogram her. Google that!"

"Y eah, sure. I'm on it," Lane lied, typing her password into the MySpace login page.

"Not that she'd go, because apparently she doesn't see this

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whole thing as a problem, which is totally OOC," Vivi said, looking at the ceiling.

Lane smirked. "Y sound like Curtis."

ou

"Oh, crap! I do," Vivi said, holding her head. "Y little love bug has totally infiltrated my brain," she teased.

our

"He is not my love bug," Lane said, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder to toy with it.

"Whatever you say," Vivi replied, sitting down on the edge of her unmade bed. She crossed her legs and bounced the top leg around as if she were stirring something. "I don't know why you don't just ask him to the prom already. I mean, you're just as bad as Isabelle except you can't get up the guts to get the guy and she can't get up the guts to lose the guy. Why won't you just ask him to the prom? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Umm ... he could run screaming in the other direction and never speak to me again, which would break up our entire group and change our lives forever," Lane recited automatically.

"Oh. Y eah. That would suck," Vivi replied, looking irritated that Lane actually made some sense. "Whatever--back to Isabelle. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Lane said lightly. She knew better than to encourage Vivi. If she did, this rant might sooner or later become an actual plan, and Lane knew from experience that Vivi's plans rarely worked out for the best. But sometimes, if she was lucky, Vivi would just babble with no direction until she tired herself out and the whole thing would come to nothing.

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Lane had already navigated to her in-box and was psyched to see a message from SurfBoy07 at the top of the list. He was supposed to be critiquing her last painting. SurfBoy07 was an art student from California whom she'd met months ago on the site. After a few IM conversations, they had realized they both harbored a love of art and a need for unbiased feedback from someone outside their regular classes. They had started sending jpegs of their work back and forth, and Lane felt that her painting had much improved, thanks to his comments. She crossed her fingers for luck and clicked his message.

"Oh! Maybe we could find a way to make Shawn totally unappealing to her," Vivi continued, pushing herself off her bed to start pacing again. "I mean, the guy is hot--I'll give him that. Maybe that's how Izzy sees past all the other crap, right? Maybe we should break into his house and shave his head!"

"I draw the line at breaking and entering," Lane said as she read through SurfBoy07's message.

Hey Penny Lane,

This painting is amazing. Y use of shading and shadow has

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improved dramatically. Really. Y best work yet. Would it be

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lame to admit I'm jealous?

child)

chand SB07

Lane's heart expanded, and she could barely contain a grin. This was exactly the message she'd been hoping for. Her best work yet. SurfBoy07 was in a real art program at a great school. If he loved it, then it would have to earn an A.

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"Whoa. Who's that?" Vivi stopped and stared over Lane's shoulder. Lane glanced at SurfBoy07's picture. With his sun- kissed good looks and friendly smile, he was rather Oakleyicious.

"He's just a MySpace friend of mine," Lane said, trying to contain her critique-related glee so that Vivi wouldn't grill her about it. "He's an artist. We chat sometimes."

"Omigod. There's no way that's his real picture," Vivi said. She reached around Lane's back and grabbed the mouse, scrolling quickly down SurfBoy's page. "He totally stole that off the Hollister website or something."

"No, he didn't. I asked about the picture. That's totally him," Lane protested.

"No way." Vivi stood up straight. "No real guy is that hot." "Do you have any idea how insane you sound? Somebody is that hot because that picture is of somebody," Lane told her.

"Well, it's not SurfBoy07. No one that gorgeous has time to be on MySpace," Vivi said. "Sorry to tell you this, Lane, but he has to be a fake."

Vivi scoffed, like Lane was ridiculous, and paced away. Lane's heart hurt. Why did Vivi have to tear her down like that? Couldn't Lane ever be right about anything?

"Wait a minute! That's it!" Vivi announced suddenly.

All the tiny hairs on the back of Lane's neck stood on end. "What? What's it?"

"A fake!" Vivi whirled around, her eyes bright. She grabbed the arms of the chair and twirled Lane toward her. "We'll

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make up a guy for Isabelle on MySpace! Someone who will totally take her mind off that skeezoid Sluttig."

Lane's skin tightened as her entire body filled with dread. Crap. Crappity crap crap. "What?"

"Come on! Who knows Isabelle better than we do? We can make up her perfect guy," Vivi said, clasping her hands together. "We can make him a little bit dangerous, you know, because we know she likes that. But we can also give him a life! Make him interesting! Shawn's only interests are smoking, playing three chords on his guitar, and being a jackass. We can do so much better than that. And MySpace is the perfect place to do it. We can make him as incredible as we want him to be!"

Lane squirmed in the chair. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Vivi asked, putting her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie.

Lane stared into her friend's excited green eyes. "Unfortunately, no."

"Good," Vivi said with a grin. "Now get out of my chair."

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* * * * three * * * *

"Unbelievable," Vivi said, leaning back in her chair and crooking her arms behind her neck. She checked her Nike sports watch. "Less than an hour to make up a whole person."

"Y sure you don't want to give him a cool screen name?" Lane asked from the rickety old kitchen chair next to Vivi. "Most people have them."

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"That's all right, Penny Lane," Vivi said facetiously. "Brandon is too cool for that."

Lane rolled her eyes at the dig.

"What? Come on. Y ou're the one who said he should be a man of few words--which was totally perfect, by the way," Vivi said, trying to appease Lane with a compliment. She reached for the mouse and scrolled up. "Would a guy whose About me' reads only, 'Drums. Summer. Books. Coffee-- black1' really make up a doofy name for himself?"

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Lane considered this with a thoughtful frown. "Okay. Good point."

They both leaned back again to admire their work. The cool black-and-brown background had been cribbed from one of Lane's other male friends-- she seemed to have a lot, which surprised Vivi--but then maybe her friend was better at talking to guys online than in person. Lane had also constructed some killer favorites lists. They were spare, but they included a few of Isabelle's faves, and had been rounded out by choices that were convincingly guy stuff like The Art of War, Junk Brothers, and select Adam Sandler movies.

Then, the piece de resistance: his profile picture. A photo of a black-and-white boxer dog they had lifted from some other guy's page. Isabelle loved dogs. Brandon having his pup as his picture might even distract Izzy from the fact that she didn't actually know what the guy looked like. They'd even put "My dog Henley" in his "Heroes" section. Vivi's most inspired idea of the night.

"It's perfect," Vivi said, satisfied.

"Not quite," Lane told her, reaching for the mouse. "He needs some friends."

"What do you mean?" Vivi asked.

"We can't just have him add Isabelle first. He'll look like a loser stalker," Lane pointed out. She navigated to her own page and went to her friend space. "Here. We'll find some people that are online right now and send them friend requests."

"Lane, I think you might be good at this deception thing," Vivi said, impressed.

"I won't let it go to my head," Lane replied with a touch

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of sarcasm. She hadn't let Vivi forget for one moment that she disapproved of this whole plan, but she blushed slightly anyway.

Within fifteen minutes, Brandon had eleven new friends and two comments about how cool his dog was.

"I can't believe how many people have nothing better to do on a Friday night than this," Vivi said, shaking her head.

"Including us," Lane replied.

"Y but we're on a mission," Vivi pointed out. She dropped forward and put her feet on the ground, pulling the keyboard to her. "Okay. Let's do this."

es,

"Now? Y ou're gonna message her now?" Lane was panicked.

"Why wait?" Vivi asked.

"Let's just think about this a sec," Lane said, getting up. "I mean, yeah, creating Mr. Perfect has been fun, but do we want to mess with her like this?"

"We're not messing with her," Vivi protested. "We're helping her see the light at the end of the tunnel. She needs to know there are other options out there."

"Y eah, but--was

"Lane. It's totally harmless," Vivi told her, tilting her head. "I mean, any real guy could add her on here at any second and serve the exact same purpose. We just can't wait that long. Don't be a wuss."

Lane took a deep breath, and Vivi knew she had her. Her eyes trailed to the computer screen, open to Isabelle's pretty white-and-pink page. The photo of Isabelle from Lane's bowling birthday party last February grinned back at them.

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Lane squeezed her eyes closed. "All right, fine. Let's get this over with."

"Y What should I write?" Vivi asked, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She started to type. "Hey. Y

es! ou're hot. Where do you--?was

"Vivi!" Lane blurted.

"What?"

"Y ou're hot? Y ou've gotta be kidding me," Lane said.

"What? I'm trying to sound like a guy," Vivi replied, eyes wide. She turned her hands palm up over the keyboard. "Think you can do better?"

Lane shrugged. "Maybe ..."

"Fine," Vivi said, standing up in a huff. "Go ahead."

Lane cleared her throat. Tentatively, she stepped up to the keyboard. Vivi stood and looked over her shoulder while she typed.

Hey, Y dog looks exactly like my uncle Franklin. It's very weird.

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Does he smell like coffee and cigarettes, too?

--Brandon

For a long moment, Vivi stared at the message, completely baffled. "His uncle Franklin? What are you--?was Then, it hit her, and she started to think that Lane really might be an evil genius. "Oh! Because she always says she thinks Buster is part dog, part old man!"

"Exactly," Lane said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's perfect." Vivi reached over and hit send.

"Wait!" Lane blurted.

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"Too late," Vivi said, slapping her hands together. She navigated back to Brandon's page and preened. "Operation Skewer Sluttig is now in motion."

"But I didn't read it over!" Lane cried.

"So? I did. It was perfect," Vivi replied.

"What if she writes back?" Lane asked.

Vivi put her hands on Lane's bony shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Dial down the drama, okay? It's fine."

Lane took a deep breath and nodded shakily. "Okay."

"Besides, look at her page. She's not even online." Vivi released Lane and grabbed a towel off her floor, heading for the bathroom. "She said she was going to bed when she got home. She probably won't even get it until the morning."

"Right. Right," Lane said, crouching down next to her bag and unzipping it. "She's gotta be sleeping by now." She yanked her blue Paul Frank toiletries bag out and stood, but after one glance at the computer, she completely froze. "Uh. Vivi?"

"Y eah?"

"She wrote back," Lane said.

Vivi's heart stopped for a full five seconds. "Already? But she's not--was

"Y can cover up the fact that you're online," Lane said, her voice growing shrill. "Something we probably should have done since right now she can

ou tell that we--that Brandon-- is on."

Vivi's eyes widened, and she walked over to the desk. "Wait, so she's waiting for us to reply?"

"Maybe! I mean, she knows we're . . . he's ... oh God!" Lane cried, collapsing onto the end of Vivi's bed. She

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clutched her toiletries bag with both hands, shaking up the contents like a rattle. "I thought she was going to bed!"

"Well, that was a big lie," Vivi said, putting her hands on her hips.

"What're we gonna do? What're we gonna do?" Lane asked. She dropped the bag as if the monkeys all over it had come to life and bitten her fingers. She shook her hands in front of her as her face grew beet red.

"Calm down," Vivi said, rolling her eyes. "Let's just read the message and see what she says."

She sat down at the computer and opened Isabelle's message.

OMG! That is TOO funny. I've always thought that Buster had an old man trapped inside of him. Nice to know someone else sees it, too. New to MySpace, huh? Welcome. Hope you'll accept my friend request. So what are you doing home on a Friday night? WB! Izzy

"She totally loves him," Vivi said, feeling giddy.

"She totally knows we're here!" Lane said through her teeth, pressing her hands into the back of Vivi's chair. "I mean, he's here!"

Suddenly an IM popped up on the screen, and Lane screamed, grabbing Vivi like some psycho killer had just broken in.

IzzyBelly: I'm not a stalker. Just bored. Are you there?

"Oh my God. Oh my God. What do we say?" Lane cried,

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pressing down hard on the back of Vivi's chair.

Vivi's blood rushed in her ears, and everything felt suddenly shaky. "Will you calm down? Y ou're freaking me out!"