The Fake Boyfriend Experiment (6 page)

He pulled out on to the road. “My parents are getting a divorce. They kicked me out of the house so they could try to kill each other in private. The car was to make them feel better.”

Oh, wow. Suddenly I saw him in a new light, as more than the super talented drummer with good biceps and a tattoo. He had a life and parents and baggage like I did. “That’s a major bummer. The divorce thing, not the car.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

I wished I could be that chill about my life. Was he for real, or did it actually bother him? “So, where do you live, then? Did they really kick you out?” I couldn’t imagine my parents throwing me out. I would freak.

“With my aunt.”

I couldn’t help the heebie-jeebies from crawling down my spine. “Seriously? You actually live with Miss Jespersen?”

“Yep.” He eased to a stop at a red light, rested his forearms on the steering wheel and turned his head toward me. “What’s your story?”

He had dark brown flecks in his green eyes, I realized. His eyelashes were so thick and long I wanted to touch them to see if they were my imagination. “Story about what?” My gaze drifted to his mouth, and his lips. Were they soft? What would it be like if he kissed me? Would he—

“Child prodigy on your good days, piece of dirt on your bad ones,” Rafe quoted as the light turned green and he began to drive again. “What’s up with that?”

Oh, that. Right. My life was not about Rafe kissing me. It was about failing to make the grade. “I play the piano. My parents and your aunt have high hopes for me, but I’m failing miserably.” I chewed my lower lip and watched the trees flash by. Suddenly, the afternoon didn’t seem so warm and sunny anymore. Why did Crusty and piano have to follow me everywhere? Couldn’t I just enjoy a ride from a cute guy and not have it tainted?

“You seem pretty talented to me.” He sounded totally genuine, not trying to suck up to me, and it made me smile.

I glanced at him, but he was checking out the rear view mirror, not me. “Maybe you can drop a hint to your aunt over dinner so she’ll back off,” I teased, only half kidding

“Maybe I will.” He turned on his blinker. “Right here?”

“Yep.” We fell silent for a while, while I frantically tried to think of something to say that would impress him. All I could come up with was to compliment him on his drumming. Bo-ring.
Think of something brilliantly interesting.

He turned on the radio and started flipping through stations. Great. I was so boring that he was giving up on conversation. Then he grinned and turned it up. “Great song.”

It was another JamieX song, an older one that still rocked. “I love this song!” I started singing along immediately.

He flicked me a surprised look. “You’re—”

“A terrible singer. I know.” I turned it up to drown me out more. “Good thing I can play an instrument, huh?” I started singing again.

After a second, Rafe started singing too. His voice was like the sound of a jack hammer at three in the morning when you were trying to sleep.

I immediately whooped and hit him on the shoulder. “You’re awful, too!”

He grinned at me, his dimples completely adorable and out of character with his full-arm tattoo and leather jacket. “Good thing I can play an instrument, huh?”

I giggled, a warm bubbly feeling exploding through me. “I think you’re even worse at singing than I am, and that’s nothing to be proud of.”

He laughed, a deep, warm sound that filled me with the most amazing feeling of giddiness. I realized it was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh. He’d been cute when he was doing the uber-serious mysterious bad boy expression, but he was beyond gorgeous when he was happy. “You’re definitely a worse singer than I am,” he said.

“No way. You’re insanely jealous of my incredible voice.” I cranked the radio even more and starting singing louder.

He joined in, and we sang the rest of the way to my house. We didn’t even stop when we hit the stoplight in the town center and there were kids standing on the sidewalk five feet away. They were making fun of us, and we kept right on singing.

Yeah, those girls were eyeing Rafe. Too bad for them. I was the one making bad music with him, and it rocked!

He pulled into my driveway and turned down the radio. His cheeks were sort of flushed and he was grinning.

I was so psyched. What an awesome time! “Thanks for the ride, Rafe.”

“Anytime, Lily.” He raised his brows, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “Despite what my aunt says about you, you’re not too bad.”

I smacked him lightly on the arm. “Not funny.”

His grin faded. “Sorry.”

Shoot. I didn’t want him to drive off thinking I was some over-sensitive loser. “I’m just kidding.” I swung out of his Jeep and landed on the driveway with a graceful thump. “If you ever need a stand-in for the keyboard again, let me know.”

His smile disappeared and he got this really awkward expression on his face. “Um, about that...”

All my happiness suddenly vanished, but I shrugged like I didn’t care. I hadn’t meant to force him to reject me. The offer had just tumbled out. “It’s no problem. I know you already have a keyboard player. I just meant—”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

I felt sick. “Who is? Angel?” I knew it!

“No, Paige. The girl who plays the keyboard.”

Oh…no wonder she’d scowled at me when Crusty had accused me of flirting with Rafe. Now that little exchange felt even more embarrassing. Did the two of them think I’d been flirting with Rafe when they both knew he was taken? God, that was irretrievably embarrassing! I took a deep breath and tossed my hair, trying to be so casual that he’d never think I’d been after him “Whatever.”

He frowned. “I just didn’t want you to think, well, I mean, because I gave you a ride today and stuff.”

Oh, God, this was the worst! I was getting dumped before I’d even dated him! “Rafe, seriously, it’s no biggie. I was just having fun on the ride home. I have a boyfriend already, so I’m glad it’s not an issue,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Yikes! Had I really just said that?

Surprise flickered across his face. “You have a boyfriend?”

Too late to back out now. “Yep. Sophomore over at Inverness. Plays football.” Wow. Two fake boyfriends in three days. My social life was rocking. I managed a smile, even though I felt like running into my house and curling up into a miserable little ball. Was my life so pathetic that I had to lie to everyone about it? Yes, yes, apparently it was. “He can sing, though, so don’t tell him I stink, okay? That’s our little secret.”

His mouth curved into an intimate smile, all his tension gone now that he knew he didn’t have to worry that I had a crush on him. Sigh. “Our little secret,” he agreed. “Deal.” He started the Jeep back up. “So, I’ll see you around.”

“If you’re lucky.”

That same look of surprise crossed his face again, as if he hadn’t expected me to be so blasé about his girlfriend news. “If I’m lucky,” he repeated. Then he shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway.

I refused to stand there and stare after him, so I turned and ran into the house, jumping over two geraniums in case he was looking. Girls who had just been rejected by a guy they had a major crush on didn’t leap over flowerpots. They sobbed and cried and got all pathetic.

But not me. No way.

I vaulted up the steps, shoved my key in the lock and danced inside, then slammed the door shut so I could collapse on the floor and be a loser in private.

There was a lot to compare, and it was awesome.

I leaned back on the bleachers, grinning as we chatted about boys. Since when was I the type to cut practice? I wasn’t, but I didn’t feel like I was doing anything wrong. I felt like I was living! I was on the verge of getting myself a real boyfriend. I was such a rebel, and it was the best feeling.

Erin nudged me. “See number ten? That’s Keith. Is he cute or what?”

I studied the field and got a vague glimpse of the number ten before he disappeared beneath a slew of grunting bodies. “I like his helmet,” I offered. It was the best I could come up with. Did she really think I could tell if he was cute when he was at the other side of the field and wearing a helmet?

Delilah pointed at the pile. “That’s Jeff at the bottom.” She sighed. “He’s not that hot, plus he’s getting squashed. I really think I should tell him I can’t go to the semi-formal with him.”

“You have to go,” Erin said. “He’s best friends with Keith and Hugh, and if you don’t go then they might not ask us and then—”

“So, which one’s mine?” I was risking the wrath of Miss Jespersen and my parents because my friends had sworn that the guys had a friend who needed a date for the semi-formal. I was there to meet him. I was on a mission. This was my one chance to get my life on the right track, and I was going to make it count.

Since Inverness and St. Mary’s hosted the semi-formal together, the guys were going to get dates if we didn’t snag them first. I had to move in today for the kill or risk missing the dance entirely, since my “boyfriend” Rafe was still unable to attend.

If I got a date, then maybe my friends would forget about Rafe. They hadn’t stopped grilling me about him so far, forcing me to make up lies constantly. As of this moment, Rafe and I had been dating for three months, had gone to six movies and he’d given me a stuffed animal for our three month anniversary. He was sixteen, birthday in March, and had written a song about me. Unfortunately, he was not available for the semi-formal, but was now okay with me going without him. What a guy.

My plan for the moment was to start to date this Inverness guy, whoever he was, fall in love and then “break up” with Rafe. Or something like that, so long as it ended with Rafe out of the picture and no one realizing I’d lied about him being my boyfriend.

“I don’t know which one’s yours,” Erin said. “His name’s Lesley or something like that.”

“Lesley?” I grimaced. “That’s a girl’s name.” Unlike Rafe. He had a great name.

“Obviously it’s not a girl’s name,” Delilah said, rolling her eyes. “At least he’s got to be cuter than Jeff.”

The boys broke out of their huddle around the coach, and three guys headed toward us, jogging toward the bleachers. I sat up. Oh…was one of them Lesley? The future love of my life? Or at least my ticket to the dance? My stomach did a sudden belly flop and my mouth got dry. A football player was on his way over to me. To meet me. To talk to me. What was I supposed to say? Should I mention the semi? Or just wait for him to bring it up? Crud! I was so not ready for this…

“Hi Keith,” Erin said, beaming at the boys.

I clutched her arm, starting to panic.

Delilah leaned into my other side as she let out her breath. “Jeff actually looks pretty good with mud on his face,” she whispered. “Doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, sure.” I wet my lips and stared at the boys coming toward us. Number ten was apparently Keith, so he wasn’t Lesley, but which of the other two was mine? They both had muddy faces, and they were both pretty cute. Not Rafe, but good enough to be seen in public with.

Then I noticed one of them was looking right at me, and I knew it was
him
. The connection was too vivid, too direct. He was checking me out, and it was no casual inspection. It had to be my date. I quickly gave him the once over. He had light brown hair that was cut short. Mud on his cheek, brown eyes, nice straight nose. He smiled at me, and I grinned back, my breath catching in my chest. Okay, yeah, this was going to be okay.

He came to a stop in front of me. “You must be Lily.”

I nodded, my tongue suddenly all tangled up with nerves. What should I say?

He flashed me a grin. “I’m Les.”

Les? That was so much better than Lesley. I could live with that. Okay, phew. I nodded again, my hands clammy and my heart racing. What was I supposed to say to him? What did football players like to talk about? The only guys I talked to were the other students at Mueller-Fordham, and we talked recitals and classical music. No way would Les think that was interesting.

He started walking, and I realized we were all heading back toward the gym. I could handle that. I fell in next to him, pleased to discover I could actually walk beside him without tripping over myself. Point for me. Soon I’d even be able to talk.