The Fake Boyfriend Experiment(24)

There was sharp intake of breath on his end. “My band’s not dumb.”

I relented a little at the shock in his voice. “Well, maybe your band isn’t, but you’re being a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk?”

“Yes.” I could practically feel his anger vibrating over the phone line. I stalked across the room and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was all crazy from lying in bed waiting for my parents. My face was red and my eyes were blazing. Wow. I looked sort of like a girl with attitude, not some wimpy piano player. I gripped the back of my white desk as power rippled through me. “You’re accusing me of things I didn’t do, and you’re not even giving me a chance to explain.”

“No explanation needed. Paige and my band were the only two good things in my life and you managed to screw them both up.”

Like there was any chance I was suffering through this for the next month. Just because Rafe was totally hot and a great drummer didn’t mean he was worth my time. “Fine! I’ll go find my parents and tell them I won’t do it!”

“It won’t matter!” Rafe protested. “My aunt has decided this is what needs to be done to save your precious career, and she won’t back off, no matter what you do. Your career in exchange for my life.” The hostility in his tone told me exactly what he thought of that trade.

Suddenly, I stopped, right in the middle of the room, an ugly realization occurring to me. “This is all a test, isn’t it?”

He paused. “What are you talking about?”



“A test. To see if I really am the failure they think I am.” I closed my eyes and sank onto my bed, the light pink comforter puffing up around me. The band had been fun that one day because I’d done it for myself. Joining the band because Rafe’s aunt was trying to save my career would be no different from piano lessons. This was simply more pressure, one more way to fail. I pressed my hand to my forehead. Only this was even worse, because now I’d actually made an enemy of a guy that used to make me smile. “Forget it, Rafe. I’m not going to do it.” I felt sick again. “Tell Paige she’s in.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment. “You’re serious?”

I looked at myself in my mirror again, and this time I saw the face I was used to seeing. Pinched cheeks, tight mouth, my blue eyes looking worried and sad. I didn’t want to be like that, and Crusty turned me into that girl. Forget it. I was done. Done. “Yeah.” Oh, yeah, I was serious. I’d had enough. I couldn’t do this anymore. I wanted out. Rafe had been the one bright light in my life, and that band had been a single good moment, and I wasn’t going to ruin both of them.

He sighed. “Lily, you can’t quit now.”

“No, I’m going to.” I hopped off the bed and stalked across the room to the door. “I’m just going to tell them piano is over for me, all the way. No band or anything. They can’t force me.”

“Forget it, Lily. It’s too late for that.”

I opened the door and yanked it open. “No, it’s not.” I raised my voice. “Mom? Dad? Where are you?”

“Downstairs,” my mom yelled back, and I started to run down the stairs, my heart thudding with the enormity of what I was going to do. This was the final step. No more piano. Ever. Did I really want to do this? I had to. I knew I did. I couldn’t deal with another minute. I didn’t want to look at that girl in the mirror ever, ever again

“Lily! Wait!” Rafe said.

I jumped over the bottom three steps, my bare free slapping on the polished hardwood floor. “What do you want, Rafe? I have to go.” I walked down the hall toward the living room, where my parents were huddled on the couch in deep conversation. My dad’s arm was around my mom, and she looked like she might have been crying. Guilt coursed through me as they both looked up.

Rafe grunted with annoyance. “My aunt will be all over me if you refuse to do it. She’ll blame me and make my life miserable.” A noise that sounded like a crash came from his end.

I hesitated. Oh, man. I could completely believe that Miss Jespersen would make Rafe suffer if she thought he’d made me quit piano forever. If I played in the band, he’d hate me for messing up Mass Attack and his relationship with Paige for a month; but if I didn’t, I’d screw up the band forever because Crusty would ban Rafe from it.



I groaned and leaned back against the doorframe, resting my head against the wood, not quite walking into the living room. Not yet.

Like I wanted to deal with his attitude for a month, but how could I shove him into his aunt’s ruthless path of destruction and torment? I couldn’t abandon a fellow victim, especially since this was my fault anyway. But I didn’t want to play just to make Crusty happy. I didn’t want the pressure anymore. I couldn’t take the stress. I didn’t know what to do. I’d been so psyched to play with Mass Attack for fun, but now it all seemed so tangled up and such a mess.