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Authors: R.S. Novelle,Renee Novelle

BOOK: The Boyfriend List
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“How
could I?” Reagan finally turned her way, sulking just a little. “You only
mention it on a daily basis.”

“Don’t
do that.” Petra put her finger up and wagged it playfully.

“Do
what?”

“Sulk.
Or I won’t give you the new info I have on Brett.”

Ian
immediately looked up from his box. “Brett?”

 
“The random guy from the restaurant I
mentioned.” Petra quickly answered before turning her attention back to her
friend.

“Why
didn’t I hear about him last night?” Ian turned his body so that his torso
fully faced Reagan. It wasn’t meant to be an intimidating tactic, yet she still
had a problem finding her voice.

“Why
didn’t I hear about Isabella?” She finally countered.

He
seemed to consider this. “Touché’.” He said, blushing just a little before angling
his body back toward his food and digging eagerly in again.

Reagan
gave him a moment, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. Hopeful that he
would, though she wasn’t sure exactly what response she wanted from him. But
when he remained silent, chewing casually on the best fried rice the city had
to offer, she returned her focus back to Petra, and back to their plan. “What’s
this information you have for me?”

 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT
 

Reagan
didn’t dare get any closer than she already was. In fact, all things
considered, she might be too close already.

Petra
had discovered Brett’s participation with the soccer team, and had even managed
to get a copy the team’s practice schedule. A student athlete on scholarship, he
was there nearly every day, but
today
just happened to be an open practice for anyone on campus to watch. While it
was difficult to see him clearly from the coffee shop across the street that
Reagan had found, as she sipped her latte she could enjoy the relative
obscurity the establishment offered her as she peered out through groups of
people forming on the lawn across the street.

In
essence, she could find out what she needed to know next without getting
caught. And the not getting caught part really,
really
appealed to her. Though next time she might bring binoculars
to get a better peek...

Still,
there was one quality she could confidently mark off her list:
Athletic: check!
Reagan took a marker
out and made a giant checkmark next to the appropriate box, then leaned back,
took a sip of coffee and smiled. And yes, she realized he was yet
another
athlete, thus continuing her
already established trend. She’d just have to come to terms with that later...

Her
attention was only distracted by a call to her phone, which she quickly fumbled
with before answering.

“Am I
interrupting you?” The voice on the other end was airy, slightly dramatic and
just a little whiny.
Should have known
,
Reagan thought with a shake of her head,
only
Katie would have this kind of bad timing.

Peeking
through the window again, she checked in to make sure she hadn’t missed
anything major. “Would it really matter if you had?” Her tone reflected the
half grimace, half smile that alighted her face.

There
was a long silence in the conversation that meant Katie was thoroughly
contemplating her answer. “Probably not. I need some sisterly advice?”

Reagan
fought back the urge to sigh. Katie had been calling her for
sisterly advice
since her twelfth
birthday when her friend had locked herself in the bathroom crying for no
reason, and had always managed the worst possible timing with said calls. But what
could she do? She supposed the fact that her mother had been married to Katie’s
father at one point justified the intrusion. And even though their parents had
since split, and they were back in two households again, Reagan had always
fostered a close relationship with the girl. So, she put on her ‘older sister
wisdom cap’, which she felt completely unequipped for at the moment, and
prepared herself for a lengthy discussion on her younger step-sister’s latest
topic of interest.

“Maybe.”
She teased as she shifted her position, hoping for a better view of the players
across the street for a little multi-tasking effort.

There
were a few sniffles, a pause, and another sniffle.
Was Katie crying?
“I don’t know what to do.”
Sniff, sniff.

Patience is a virtue, patience is a
virtue
, Reagan found
herself repeating the mantra as she twisted a long strand of hair around her
index finger and tried not to think about how much she might regret picking up
her phone. The conversation hadn’t even begun yet, and she was already
predicting its potential to be very long and
very
dramatic.

“Reagan
are you there?”

“About
what in particular, Kate?”

Sniff.
“I think Kyle and I have broken up.”
Katie’s voice began to waiver and Reagan could envision her little sister’s big
eyes filling with tears. “And I just don’t know what to do.” Her last word was
drawn out into a sad little whine.

“What
happened?”

Katie
then went into a lengthy, and theatrical, description that very simply boiled
down to – Kyle took Katie to get ice cream. Kyle was distant. Katie
questioned him. He confessed to wanting to see someone else. No explanation, no
apology. Katie crushed her remaining cone, which sadly wasn’t very much, on his
head. He didn’t come after her, so she broke it off. Sort of.
 

And
ironically she hadn’t craved her favorite flavor ice cream ever since.

And
while Reagan was truly sorry to hear it had all happened that way, the only
thing she could think to say was, “Oh Katie.” She’d met the boy-band
look-a-like once, and those few moments were all she’d needed to know that it probably
wouldn’t work out between them. “Don’t worry, there’s someone much,
much
better out there for you out there.
You’re young, you have all the time in the world to find him.”

“I
feel like my whole world is falling down around me!” Finally, Katie fell into a
full out fit of sobs and crying, which forced Reagan to cringe and pull the
phone away from her ear. She knew her sister’s heart probably
was
really breaking, but the dramatic
statements like those were sometimes hard to swallow. Especially since the girl
was still in high school and had her entire life ahead of her to make bad
mistakes with boys. Just like she had, she winced.

“Don’t
you think you’re dramatizing it just a little?”

Sniff.
“No.”
Sniff.

Reagan
took a long, deep breath. “Okay.” Then she took a sip of coffee and regrouped.

“I
thought you of all people would understand.” There was a noise that sounded as
though a tissue had been ripped from its box.

“I
do, Kate.” Reagan allowed her words to be filled with overly sympathetic notes.
“Unfortunately, I really do. More than you might imagine right now. I happen to
be going through some personal things myself right now.”

A
quick glance out the window showed the group of guys that had been practicing
was about to disband. “But at this very moment, I’ve actually got my head in a
million things.” She stood and stepped closer to the window to get a better
look. One of the athletes, sporting a mass of blond curls, was crossing the
lawn toward the street. Proceeding to the trash bin, she tossed her cup in and
stepped across the threshold. “Can I call you back later?”

“No.”

Reagan
suddenly paused in her path, noting the considerably stronger note to her
sister’s voice. “No?” She repeated.

“No.”
The girl stated again, matter-of-factly. “I’m coming to stay with you. We’ll
talk then.”

“You’re
what?” Reagan choked back the laugh that was trying to escape. But all she
heard was the dial tone in her ear. “Katie? Are you there?” Reagan pulled the
phone back from her ear in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But
there was no more time to waste. As Reagan eagerly looked around to see if she
could spot Brett – or the guy she’d assumed had been Brett at least
– she discovered that not a single player was in sight. It was too late,
the moment had passed. Throwing her head back in dramatic despair, she cursed
herself for letting the opportunity slip through her fingers. But as she stood
on the sidewalk, gazing across at the athletic department building, an inkling
of an idea began to cross her mind.

 
 
 
CHAPTER NINE

Thursday

 

Almost
a full twenty-four hours would go by before Reagan had finally summoned the
courage to return to the athletic department to execute her new idea. As she
stood on the sidewalk, frozen in her place with nerves, she evaluated the
looming and unfamiliar building in front of her. There was absolutely nothing
about this idea that aligned with her personality, and even less about the idea
that she was perfectly comfortable with. But this entire operation had been one
big stretch to her comfort zone from the start, so why deviate from that now?

Taking
a determined step forward, she gauged how she felt. And though her stomach was
wrestling with jitters, she couldn’t find much to complain about. So she took
another step forward. Nope, too much now. Having just totally lost her nerve,
she circled back around to where she’d began.

You can do this
, she lectured herself while pacing
in a tight little line,
just go in. Walk
right in, ask your questions and get out. Simple
.

 
Reagan glanced at her watch. It was early
enough that most of the athletes would probably still be in classes. Practices,
from her understanding, didn’t start until a little later in the day. But she’d
lose out on the opportunity if she waited much longer. She’d set so many
objectives for this little mini-recon mission she’d devised that if she didn’t summon
up the nerve right now, she’d have to give up on the idea all together before
she ran out of time. Or someone saw her standing there talking to herself. That
could get a little awkward...

With
a determined huff, Reagan made the conscious effort to push down her nerves and
take one step at a time until she’d traveled the entire stretch of walkway up
the path to the large glass doors. Pulling hard at the handle and realizing it
was more difficult to open than it should’ve been, she decided it might be time
to get back into the gym herself as she crossed over the threshold. Be that as
it may, she’d just accomplished her first big objective: Getting her body fully
inside the building without getting kicked out.

The
interior of the building was spacious, airy and light. It was more modern than
she’d expected it to be, with unique architecture and a splash of color against
the occasional accent wall. Clearly, the department had come into some money
from the football team’s recent stretch of season wins. But the glossy floors
were making her shoes squeak too much for her comfort as she crossed from one
end to the other, glancing down halls to make sure no one was around. Though
she saw no one at the moment, there was definitely the chance someone would
hear
her, and that would just complicate
matters since she was pretty certain the general student population wasn’t
allowed to just randomly roam the building.

From
the corner of her eye, Reagan spotted a row of tall glass cases that displayed
trophies, plaques and flags. Realizing this was as good a place to start as
any, despite her obvious concerns, she initiated objective two: confirm
athletic participation. Stepping across the foyer, careful not to let her shoes
squeak too much, she quickly passed over most of the display until her eyes
settled on a picture of the men’s soccer team. The faces were small, but she
squinted and scanned the figures looking for any sign of Brett.

And
just as her eyes landed on him, she heard a sound that nearly made her jump out
of her skin...

“May
I help you?”

It
was a woman’s voice - mature in stature, matronly in warmth. And yet without
even turning around, Reagan immediately knew this person would be the
administrative type in the worst possible way. A quick glance into the
reflection of the glass had her groaning internally that her suspicions looked
to be correct. An authoritative rule follower with her tight bun and pinched
expression, it would probably take some quick thinking to get around this and
get on to objective three... and Reagan had never really been one for quick
thinking like that.

Turning
slowly around, she looked up into a face that was just as stern as the voice
had been. A quick and fleeting thought passed through her head that she hadn’t
heard the woman’s shoes squeak across the floor, how had she managed that?

“Um,
well yes. Maybe.” She grimaced at the awkward stammering of words that fell out
of her mouth, and wished to the communication gods that she knew what to say
next.

The
woman apparently sensed her hesitant delay, and gave her a little nudge to get
the conversation flowing. “Are you an athlete?” Apparently she had no interest
in hiding the severe assessment she was giving Reagan as her steely eyes
traveled up and down Reagan’s body, no doubt trying to gauge for herself if the
person standing in front of her was even fit enough to be there. The gesture
only served to make Reagan unnecessarily aware of her soft curves. While she
could never be considered overweight, she also could never pass as an athlete,
and until now had been content falling anywhere on the spectrum between the two.
But the way this woman was looking at her now made her wish that maybe once or
twice she’d followed Petra’s lead and ordered a salad instead of a burger. And
she hated feeling like that.

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