Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian (9 page)

Vivi threw her hand up. "Do not finish that sentence. We are not giving up. We've just had a minor setback."

Lane's posture crumbled, and she rested the side of her head in her hand. "I had a feeling you were going to say that."

"Come on, guys. Think!" Vivi said, standing up. She paced over to the shelf on the wall that held all her mother's kitschy salt and pepper shakers and toyed with them. Ceramic cacti from Arizona, a pair of glass owls, the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. "Where else can we find cute boys that Isabelle's never met? There has to be somewhere."

"We could try a different school," Lane suggested halfheartedly.

"Nah. If we learned anything today, it's that strangers approaching high school guys with a proposition like this is way too weird," Curtis said, gnawing on a piece of pizza crust.

"Exactly." Vivi paced at the end of the table, racking her brain. "We have to think outside the box. How else do people find dates?"

"Match-dot-com?" Marshall suggested.

"No time for that," Vivi replied. "What we need is to find a guy who would be up for anything. Someone who needs to make a quick buck. Someone who doesn't mind the idea of potentially making a fool of himself."

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"Too bad we can't ask my mom for help," Lane said. "Whenever one of her famous clients needs an image boost, she just holds a go-see and picks out some hot model for him to go out with and be photographed with. She'd be able to find us a Brandon in less than an hour."

"What's a go-see?" Vivi asked, leaning back on the kitchen counter.

"It's like an audition," Lane said. "Except the models just come in and show their portfolios and strut around. It sounds totally shallow to me, but--was

"Wait a minute, what did you just say?" Vivi asked, her skin prickling with heat.

Lane stared at her. "I said it sounds totally shallow to me, but--was

"No! Not that part. An audition! That's perfect!" Vivi cried, slapping Notre Dame back on the shelf.

"Y want to hold an audition," Lane said flatly. "Are you kidding me? How would we get people to come without Isabelle hearing about it?"

ou

"We don't have to get people to come," Curtis said, pushing himself away from the wall, his brown eyes sparkling. "We already know someone who's holding an open call."

Vivi grinned at Curtis.

"Y guys," Marshall said warily. "Y

ou ou're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

"Mom!" Vivi shouted at the top of her lungs. She turned and jogged to the bottom of the stairs.

"Omigod! It's perfect!" Lane said, finally catching on. She

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got up and she, Curtis, and Marshall followed Vivi, crowding around her in the entryway.

"Vivi! What in the world?" her mother asked, appearing at the top of the steps.

"Sorry!" Vivi said, bounding up the stairs. She took her mother's arm and practically dragged her back down to the foyer. "I'm just so excited about your auditions. Y ou're doing Bye Bye Birdie, right?" "Right... "her mother said, confused. She looked around at all the eager faces and seemed slightly disturbed.

"There's a lot of teenagers in that, right?" Curtis leaned on the stair railing.

"We are looking for some younger cast members," Vivi's mom said. Then her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Have you changed your mind about auditioning, Curtis? Because that would be--was

"No, Mom. We were just wondering . . . can we come to the auditions with you on Monday? Me and Lane and Curtis? Just to watch."

Vivi's mother was stunned. "Come with me? Why?"

"I don't know. I'm just.. . I'm just dying to see how the whole thing works," Vivi improvised, grasping her mother's hand and walking back into the kitchen. "I mean, it's your job! Y passion! I want to share it with you!"

our

Marshall shook his head, dropping back into his chair at the table.

"But, Vivi. Y ou've never expressed an interest in musical theater before!" Vivi's mother pointed out, breathless with surprise.

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"Oh, please! Y are so wrong!" Vivi protested. "Mom, theater is my life!"

ou

Marshall crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head down.

"Oh, Vivi! Y have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that!" her mother said, tears springing to her eyes.

ou

Vivi flashed Lane and Curtis a thumbs-up as her mother hugged her happily. At the table, Marshall groaned.

"I'm going to call the casting director right now!" Vivi's mother announced. "She's going to be so excited you kids are coming!"

She floated out of the room, and Vivi basked in her triumph. "Theater geeks! Why didn't we think of this before?"

"It's too perfect," Curtis said, beaming.

"And we don't even have to go up to any of them," Lane put in, obviously relieved. "They'll be up on stage auditioning for us."

"For Mom," Marshall said, looking a little green. "They're going to be auditioning for Mom. Who, by the way, you just completely snowed," he said to Vivi.

"Dude. Chill out. She's happy--I'm happy. It's a win- win!" Vivi said, grabbing another slice of pepperoni off the counter. "By this time next week, we'll have our Brandon."

"I just wish we didn't have to wait until Monday," Lane said. "What if Shawn convinces Isabelle to go to the prom with him before then?"

"We'll just have to keep her away from him until then. Marshall will step up the lovey-dovey talk online, and we'll keep her occupied," Vivi said. "If she hasn't said yes to him

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yet, it has to be because of Brandon. We just have to keep it going."

"So you're using our mother--by toying with her fondest dream, by the way--so that you can hire a fake prom date for your best friend, who has no idea any of this is going on," Marshall said, staring up at her. "Y ou're going to hell, you know that, don't you?"

Vivi smiled. "Y eah, but it's gonna be a fun ride."

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* * * * eight * * * *

Lane stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her dressing room. This was it. This was the dress. After trying on two dozen different gowns, she had thought she would never find it, but this was definitely the one. The light blue color brought out her eyes, but didn't make her skin look too pink, as so many other dresses had. And she loved the way the lace scalloped at the top. With the little ribbon belt and the full tea-length skirt, it was both pretty and trendy. Perfect.

"Y guys! Come out already!" Vivi shouted from the little sitting room outside. "What's taking so long?"

ou

"All right! I'm coming," Lane replied.

"Me too!" Isabelle added.

Lane stepped into the common area of the dressing room, and Vivi and her mother both stood up. Vivi was still wearing the dress she had picked--a sophisticated floor-length black

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gown with a halter top that tied behind her neck--and both she and her mom covered their mouths with their hands when they saw Lane.

"Honey. That dress is perfect on you," Vivi's mother said.

Lane beamed. "I know. Now I just have to call my mom and get her to agree to spend double what she said." The very thought took the smile right off her face.

"Let me call her. I can be very convincing," Vivi's mother offered. She pulled out her cell and stepped out of the room.

"I love it," Vivi told Lane. "Seriously. It's perfect."

"Thanks." They both turned to look for Isabelle, who had yet to emerge from her dressing room. "Iz?" Lane called.

Silence. Vivi's brow creased in concern, and she walked over to the room. "Isabelle? Are you okay?"

"M'fine," Isabelle replied tearily.

"Oh God." Vivi shoved open the door, and there stood Isabelle in what could only be described as her dream dress. It was her signature powder pink with a skinny waist and a slim skirt--just like the dresses she had been admiring in magazines for years. Lane could just imagine her standing up on stage, beaming with pride as the prom queen crown everyone knew she was going to win was placed atop her perfect hair. But right then, Izzy was staring at her reflection with miserable tears in her eyes.

"Isabelle! It's beautiful!" Lane searched around for something Izzy could use as a tissue. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have a date!" Isabelle cried. She collapsed onto the little upholstered seat in her dressing room. "It's a perfect, beautiful dress and I have no one to wear it for!"

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"So wear it for yourself!" Vivi said.

"No. This is wrong. I'm calling Shawn." Isabelle dove for her purse and started digging through it. "We have to go together. He knows we have to go together."

"No!" Lane blurted. Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed the strap of Isabelle's purse and yanked it away.

"Lane! Give it back! It's my decision," Isabelle said, advancing on her.

Lane shoved the bag at Vivi, who was much stronger and faster than she was. "Isabelle, no," Lane said, holding out a hand. "Y are not thinking

ou clearly right now. Y are under the influence of the dress."

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"No, I'm not! In fact, I'm thinking clearly for the first time!" Isabelle ranted. "I mean, what am I waiting for? Some guy on the Internet to tell me that he loves our conversations so much, he's going to drive two and a half hours to take me to the prom? Ha! Like that's ever going to happen."

Lane looked at Vivi, nonplussed. So the plan really was working. She really did want to go to the prom with Brandon. She just didn't think it was a possibility. "Besides, I love Shawn. I know he's not perfect, but I love him. I can't help it. Why shouldn't I go to the prom with him?" Isabelle asked, twirling her little silver ring around on her finger. She suddenly made a grab for her purse, but Vivi held it out of her reach.

"Because he'll ruin it!" Lane blurted. "Just like he ruins everything for you!"

Isabelle looked at Lane, her bottom lip trembling.

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"I'm sorry, Iz, but it's true. Look at yourself." She turned Isabelle so she could see herself in the mirror. "Y look beautiful even without the makeup and

ou the hair and the jewelry. Now imagine yourself all done up, waiting at your house all excited. And waiting. And waiting. Because he never shows up. Or he shows up drunk and acts like a jerk the whole night. Just imagine how you'll feel then."

Isabelle took a deep breath. Lane held on to her arms from behind. She and Vivi stared at each other in the mirror, hoping that this would work. For the first time, Lane truly thought that a fake Brandon was the best alternative for her friend. It had to be better than Shawn.

"Fine," Isabelle said finally, slumping.

"Good. Good decision," Lane said, releasing Izzy.

Isabelle smoothed down the front of her dress and squared her shoulders. "I didn't say I was definitely not going with him, though. I'm just not calling him right now," she cautioned.

"But Isabelle," Vivi said. "I--was

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Isabelle said determinedly, standing up and advancing toward Vivi and Lane. "I'm getting changed."

Izzy closed the door on her friends, and Lane took a deep breath. Vivi pulled her aside, far enough away from Isabelle's cubicle to go unheard.

"What are we going to do? She's about to crack!" Vivi whispered.

"At least we stopped her for now. One step at a time," Lane told her. "And tomorrow, we'll find our Brandon. No matter

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how many bad renditions of 'Put on a Happy Face' we have to sit through."

Vivi's brow creased. '"Put on a Happy Face'?"

"It's from Bye Bye Birdie. I did my research," Lane told her, slapping her hand down on Vivi's bare shoulder. "We are so in for it."

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* * * * nine * * * *

"Okay, now I know why your mom was so desperate to have me audition for this thing," Curtis said, putting his feet up on the seat in front of him. On the stage, a man with saltand-pepper hair crooned his way through "Put on a Happy Face," which, as Lane predicted, Vivi had already heard way too many times today. "I thought this show was about teenagers. This guy is, like, geriatric."

"There are some older roles in the show," Lane whispered. "Mr. MacAfee ... Albert Peterson ... Ed Sullivan ..."

Curtis looked at her, and then at Vivi, who rolled her eyes. "She did research," Vivi said facetiously.

"Hey! I like to be prepared!" Lane sulked.

Curtis patted her on the head. "We know. It's what we love about you."

And, of course, Lane blushed like a madwoman.

Mr. Geriatric finally finished his song and walked offstage.

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Vivi took a deep, calming breath and adjusted her position in her seriously uncomfortable theater seat. The Starlight Playhouse, where her mother spent most of her waking hours, was an old, airy theater with gilded box seats and a huge balcony that seemed like it hadn't been renovated since the dawn of time. Although the decor was beautifully old school, with its carvings and elaborate tapestries, there were loose springs in every seat and the distinct scent of rotting wood in the air. Still, they put on some of the most acclaimed regional shows in all of New Jersey each year. Or so her mother was always telling her.

"Oooh. What about him?" Lane asked suddenly, sitting up straight.

A tall guy with broad shoulders and dark hair strode out on stage. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans and looked to be two or three years older than Isabelle, but that wasn't too bad. "Possibly... "Vivi said.

Then he sniffed back some phlegm, reached down and adjusted himself, and spoke. "Y eah. I'm auditionin' for da parda--was He looked down at his script.?--Conrad? That's a main part, right? 'Cuz I don' take no bit roles no more."

"Or not!" Vivi blurted as Lane slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Unless you want Isabelle to get whacked on prom night," Curtis joked.

"Ugh. I guess the end of The Sopranos put a lot of people out of work," Vivi said with a grimace.

"Ew. Ew!" Lane said, turning her face away as he sucked back more phlegm. "That is just so wrong."

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As the guy performed his solo--sounding like a bad Elvis impersonator--Vivi tried to think happy thoughts. They were going to find a Brandon. Isabelle was going to be happy. The prom was going to be tons and tons of fun