The Fake Boyfriend Experiment(20)

She hung up, and I threw the phone at the couch. It bounced off and then hit the floor with a crash. The battery cover flew off and ricocheted under the coffee table and the phone beeped, then died. This was so unfair!

My mom opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Time’s up. Practice.”

I jumped up and hurried over to the piano bench. “Mom, I really need to do some studying with Erin on Saturday for this project we have. Can I go over to her house for a few hours in the afternoon?”

My mom’s eyebrows went up. “You have a recital.”



I clenched my fists and hooked my feet around the legs of the bench. “I want to skip it.”

Her brows went even higher. “You can’t skip a recital. What’s wrong with you?”

“Mom, please!” I couldn’t keep the desperation out of my voice. “One day off. That’s all I want. Why is that so much to ask?”

“Because your audition is two weeks from Saturday. Miss Jespersen said you need practice.”

Argh! The audition again! It was like this demonic nightmare stalking me, pecking at my brain until it imploded. “But what if I don’t want to do it?”

My mom frowned. “Do what? The audition?”

“No.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Piano. What if I don’t want to play the piano anymore?”

A dark silence fell over the room. The silence was so thick I could feel it pressing down on me. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I’d hated the piano for so long. I’d complained about it. But it had never even occurred to me to actually walk away from it. I hadn’t meant to say it. I hadn’t even thought it, not really.

But now that the words were out there, hovering, I didn’t want to take them back. I felt hope for the first time in a long time, hope that maybe there was a way out of this. No piano. The words made me shudder with excitement. Yeah, sure, there was guilt too, and some shock, but beneath it all was a sense of empowerment. Go me.

“Is Erin trying to talk you out of playing the piano?” my mom finally asked. “Because if she is, I don’t want you spending time with her.”

“No, it’s not Erin. It’s me. Why can’t I—”

The doorbell rang, and a relieved look washed over my mom’s face. “I’ll get that.”

She bolted from the room, no doubt planning to call Miss Jespersen to find out how to deal with me as soon as she got rid of whoever was at the door. I didn’t know who was pushing me harder, my mom or Miss Jespersen. Together, they were too much.

I groaned and flopped back on the piano bench, my head hitting the wood with a thud as I lay down. “Ow.” I propped my feet up on the piano in a show of total disrespect for the instrument and stared at the ceiling, thinking about the party, trying to figure out how in the world I could get there. Party or recital? There was no comparison. I wanted to be free to live my life. I really did.

“Lily.”



I didn’t even look at my mom. “Who was at the door?”

“Miss Jespersen.”

I made a face. “Did she drop off a list of ways to torture me?”

“No, I didn’t,” my piano teacher said.

Yikes. I yanked my feet off the piano and scrambled up, wishing that for once I could manage to keep from making a total idiot of myself. Crusty was standing next to my mom in the doorway, and my dad was standing behind them. Miss Jespersen was in pair of pleated black pants and sensible heels, and my dad was still in his suit from work. All of them looked way serious, and I felt a shimmer of panic crawl up my spine.

Even thinking of Crusty as Rafe’s aunt didn’t keep me from wanting to jump through the window and run away screaming. What was she doing in my home? This was my world, the one place I was safe from her, and she’d tracked me down like an assassin on a mission.

I swallowed hard and lifted my chin. “What’s up?”

My parents and Miss Jespersen filed into the family room and lined up on the couch.

I sat on the piano bench, twitching while I waited for them to attack.

“Where were you after school today?” my dad asked.

I felt the blood drain from my face. How did they know I’d bailed on practicing?

“I came by at three thirty to drop off the backpack you left behind yesterday,” Miss Jespersen said. “You weren’t here. I was so worried that I had to come back tonight and make sure everything was all right.”

Oh, no. I was so busted! But at the same moment, anger began to roll through me. What right did Crusty have to check up on me and report me to my parents? We all knew she hadn’t come tonight to make sure I was okay. If that had been her only concern, the phone would have worked perfectly well. She came to report me to my parents and get me in trouble.