Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (8 page)

"No I can't. Y ou've already set up a whole relationship with her. I don't know what you guys talk about. What if she references something you said and I have no clue? Besides, I don't have time now. I have to find a guy and teach him to be Brandon!"

"Vivi--was

"Marshall, you're the one who's got her all gooey over there. Y can't just quit on us now," Vivi begged, leaning one hand against the doorjamb.

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"I do?" Marshall asked, lifting his head.

"Y do what?" Vivi asked, confused.

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"Have her all gooey?" he asked. "It's actually working?"

Vivi rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. "Y eah. Congratulations! Y ou're a virtual Romeo. And if you bail now, she'll be heartbroken all over again. Not that you care."

Marshall sat up straight, crossing his legs. He knocked his fist against his knee a few times and smiled. "Fine. I'll do it," he said finally, looking a little nervous.

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"Y es!" Vivi cheered, dancing around a little in the doorway. "Thank you."

She ran over to the bed and hugged him quickly, but he pushed her back to look her in the eye. "But in thirty years when I'm forced to commit you to a mental asylum, I don't want a hard time," he said.

Vivi laughed and then raised her right hand. "I promise."

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* * * * seven * * * *

"I'm in," Curtis said with a nod, standing outside Westmont High the next day.

Lane's jaw dropped slightly. "Y ou're in. Just like that. Y have no problem with this totally insane plan, and you want to come with us to Saint Paul's

ou right now to pick up guys."

"Why not? It's for Isabelle, right?" Curtis asked with a shrug. He slipped his Oakleys on and started down the hill toward the parking lot. Lane and Vivi exchanged a surprised and amused look.

"Curtis, are you gay?" Vivi asked, as they jogged to catch up with him.

"Vivi!" Lane said with a laugh.

"Um, no. But out of curiosity, why do you ask?" Curtis said.

"What? It would just explain so much," Vivi explained. "Y willingness to come with us to scope guys, the fact that

our

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you've never had a girlfriend, the fact that you don't yet have a prom date," she said pointedly.

Lane blushed and looked at the ground. Could Vivi be any less subtle?

"One, I'm just helping you with your plan," Curtis said, holding up a finger. "Two, I've never had a girlfriend because I have very high standards, and three, I don't see either one of you guys rocking a prom date either."

Vivi frowned quickly. "Hmm. True."

They arrived at Vivi's Jetta, and Curtis jumped over the side into the backseat. "Ow. Damn. Could you keep any more crap back here, Vivi?"

He pulled a bottle of gel out from under his butt and tossed it on the floor at his feet.

"Back off, Mr. High Standards. I don't tell you how to keep your car," Vivi said, getting in behind the wheel and tossing her blond hair over her shoulder.

"That's because I don't have a car. But if I did, you would," Curtis pointed out, taking a long swig from his water bottle.

Lane laughed as she handed him the blank canvas she was bringing home for a new painting, and he placed it carefully next to him in the backseat.

"So, what's the plan again?" Lane asked as she got in the car. Her chest felt tight, and her palms were already starting to sweat. She could hardly get up the guts to talk to the guys at her own school--guys she'd known since kindergarten-- let alone the thought of all the perfect Saint Paul's Prep boys and their perfection.

"It'll take about twenty minutes to get there, so we should

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catch a bunch of them on their way out of practices and club meetings," Vivi said, starting the car. "Grab the first cute guy you see, tell him you have an incredible proposition for him, and then just sell it."

Lane nodded and took a deep breath. "Just sell it."

"Y okay?" Vivi asked, looking over at Lane as she buckled her seat belt. "Y look a little pale."

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"I'm fine." Lane propped her elbow up on the top of the car door. "Let's just get this over with."

"Y got it!"

ou Vivi whipped her car out of its space. They sat in the bottleneck of traffic near the parking lot exit for a few minutes, and Curtis started drumming his hands on the backs of their seats. Lane saw Vivi's hands tightening on the steering wheel and knew her friend was about five seconds from totally flipping out on him.

"So no basketball today?" Lane asked Curtis, turning around in her seat to look at him. She had to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun.

"They're playing, but I'm sick of it. Jeff's way too competitive. Did you see that black eye Lewis Richards had today?" Curtis asked, sitting forward and propping his forearms on his knees.

"Y eah. So nasty," Lane said.

"That was all Jeff and his flagrant fouls," Curtis replied, leaning back suddenly as if exasperated. "I like my face the way it is, thank you very much."

So do I, Lane thought, pulling her hair over her shoulder and facing front again so Curtis couldn't see her blush.

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"So, Curtis, really. Why haven't you asked anyone to the prom yet?" Vivi asked out of nowhere.

"God! TFP!" Curtis groaned.

"Curtis!" Vivi scolded.

"Sorry! The freaking prom!" Curtis amended. "It's all anyone's talking about. Like there's nothing else going on in the world. What I wouldn't give for one good conversation about global warming," he joked. He crossed his arms and looked out the side of the car. "Do either of you know who you want to go with?"

"No," Lane said. Her heart was going to give up on her. It had to. It could not keep up this insane rhythm.

"I'm thinking about going stag," Vivi said.

"Really?" Lane asked, looking over at Vivi. That was news to her.

"That's brave," Curtis added.

"Y eah, well, our school is devoid of datable guys," Vivi said, turning onto Essex Road, the wide thoroughfare that connected Westmont to the next few towns. "And I definitely don't want to babysit some random setup date all night."

"Exactly! I want to go with someone cool, you know? Someone who'll just be able to kick back and have fun and not take the whole thing so seriously," Curtis said.

What about me? Lane thought, her heart pounding. I can kick back and have fun!

"Anyone in mind?" Vivi asked, looking at Lane out of the corner of her eye. Lane squirmed, wishing she could be anywhere but here right now. Why couldn't Vivi just leave it alone?

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"Well, there's this one girl ..." Curtis said. "But I don't know. I doubt she'd ever go with me."

Vivi looked uncertainly, pityingly, at Lane. Lane felt like the whole world had just stopped as the trees and mailboxes continued to whip past her. Like she wasn't even really there. Curtis had a date in mind. He liked someone. Someone he saw as unattainable. In other words, not her. Not Lane. Of course he wasn't thinking of Lane. Why would he? She was his friend. His neighbor. Literally, the girl next door. The girl who walked his bike home from school. Why did she ever let herself think for even a second that he might see her as anything more?

"Who is she?" Vivi demanded.

"No one you know," Curtis replied.

I'm going to throw up, Lane thought, checking the junk near her feet for something that could double as a barf bag.

"Come on. Who is she?" Vivi wheedled, probably figuring Lane would want to know. Well, Vivi was wrong about that. Lane would rather tear her eardrums out than talk about Curtis's dream date.

"Vivi, he doesn't want to tell us. Drop it," Lane said quietly.

Vivi took one look at Lane's pallor and bit her tongue. "Fine," she grumbled.

"Okay! So! New topic!" Curtis announced, oblivious. "So what, exactly, are we looking for in a Brandon?"

Vivi filled Curtis in, babbling on and on about hotness factor and smoldering qualities. Lane, meanwhile, stared out the window, trying to get control of her breathing.

It's over. He doesn't want you, she told herself, trying to

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accept it. At least now you know, and you can move on. But her logic didn't make her heart hurt any less, and it didn't make the unshed tears recede from her eyes.

Somehow, the not knowing had been a whole lot better.

***

"Eh. She's not that hot," Toothy Blond Dude said to Vivi, giving Isabelle's picture a cursory glance. He wore the standard Saint Paul's Prep uniform-- light blue shirt, burgundy-and-blue plaid tie, and burgundy jacket over tan pants. But since it was after hours, the tie was loosened and the shirt was untucked. Vivi had thought he looked pretty sexy, until he blew off her perfectly gorgeous best friend as if she were a troll. "Now you on the other hand..." he added, looking Vivi up and down.

Vivi rolled her eyes impatiently. What was it about attending an ancient school with all-brick buildings and no estrogen to speak of that turned guys into egomaniacs? She saw over his shoulder that Curtis and Lane had reconvened on a bench in the center of the sun-drenched quad. Neither of them looked particularly happy.

"I, on the other hand, have a black belt in karate," Vivi lied, stepping slightly away from the swiftly advancing guy. "So if you have any interest in retaining your ability to procreate, you'll walk away right now."

Toothy Blond Dude made a disgusted face and walked away. "Freak."

"Loser," she called out loudly. Then she pocketed her

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Isabelle picture and walked off to join her friends. "No luck?" she asked, dropping down on Curtis's right.

"Nothing. All the guys I talked to either thought I was in some cult or thought I was punking them or something," Lane said, slouching far down onto the bench.

"I figured her picture would seal the deal, but they all thought I was showing them a fake. Like there's no way a girl as pretty as Isabelle can't get a date to the prom." Curtis sighed, dejected. "Which, of course, makes sense."

"This is ridiculous," Vivi said, scuffing her sneakers into the dirt at the base of the bench. "We have to find somebody." She spotted a pair of tall basketball-player types strolling along the path toward the parking lot and nodded in their direction. "What about them?"

"Too scrawny," Curtis replied. "Shawn's a big guy."

"Him?" Lane asked, pointing to a kid who was bobbing his head to his iPod as he walked.

"No chin," Curtis put in.

"Wait a minute! I think we have a winner! "Vivi announced, straightening up a little. Coming toward them on the pathway was a tall, broad guy with shaggy blond hair--just like Shawn's. He was rocking a killer tan early in the season, so he was probably one of those privileged guys who got to vacation with his parents in the Caribbean all the time. Or skiing in Aspen. He was chatting with a teacher as they walked together, and he carried himself with total confidence.

"Now he's hot," Curtis said, sitting up straight.

Vivi and Lane both looked at Curtis in amusement.

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"What? I'm just totally secure with my sexuality," he said. "Secure enough to be able to say that guy is physically worthy of Isabelle."

Lane and Vivi cracked up laughing. The boy in question was getting closer.

"All right. I'm on it," Vivi said, standing up.

God, he was even hotter up close. His eyes were like aquamarines. She was just about to reach out and interrupt the conversation when the guy laughed at something the teacher had said. Cackled, actually. Exploding all over the place like a rabid hyena. He doubled over at the waist right in front of Lane and sucked in air with wheezing gasps. Vivi backed up a step, worried he might have a seizure or something. It was the most awful noise she had ever heard.

When he finally stood up again and started walking, still struggling for air, Vivi was still too stunned to speak. But as he passed her by, she got a very up close and personal look at his "Caribbean tan." It was practically orange. She looked at her friends, baffled.

"Was he wearing makeup?" Curtis asked gleefully.

"I think it was a spray-on tan," Lane replied. "How superficial can you be?"

"Okay, that was scary," Vivi said, picking up her messenger bag. "Let's get the heck out of here. This school sucks. I have lost all respect for the Saint Paul's Prep mystique."

"Y eah. These guys are not that hot," Lane agreed, standing as well.

"Well, they are hot, but they still suck," Vivi amended. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat and regroup."

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***

"This is good pizza," Marshall said brightly, gnawing away on his third slice of pepperoni.

"Glad you like it. Y owe us six bucks," Vivi grumbled. She crumpled her napkin and tossed it into the open pizza box on the kitchen table. Upstairs,

ou Vivi heard her mother corner Curtis on his way back from the bathroom, chatting with him about the open call the Starlight was holding for their production of Bye Bye Birdie.

"Mom! Leave him alone! He doesn't want to be in your musical!" Vivi shouted, tipping her head back.

"We're just talking, sweetie!" Vivi's mother trilled.

She did, however, release poor Curtis, who rejoined them seconds later. "Y mother is TTF."

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"Y eah, right," Vivi replied, taking a sip of Pepsi. At least she knew that TTF was "totally too funny." She was getting more and more accustomed to Curtis's strange language. "Sorry about that."

"She's just being Mom," Marshall said lightly, chewing his slice.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" she asked her brother.

Marshall shrugged, smiling as he chewed. "No reason. Good pizza. Good day. That's about it."

Vivi glanced at Lane across the table. Her brother was acting like he was on something. Something a bit more powerful than pepperoni and Pepsi.

"S. No Brandons at Saint Paul's Prep, huh?" Marshall

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asked, reaching for his soda. "That's too bad. I mean, if you can't find a willing guy there ..."

"He has a point, Viv," Lane said, sitting forward in her vinyl chair. "Saint Paul's is the hot guy mecca of the tri-state area. Maybe it's time to--was