The Fake Boyfriend Experiment(39)

I sagged into my pillows. “Oh.”

“But you can practice on your own, right? I mean, you know the music enough?”

“Sure.” I picked at a piece of lint clinging to my comforter. Oh, sure, I could practice by myself. I’d been sitting alone at the piano for years. I was all over it.

Rafe cleared his throat. “So, um, I’ll pick you up at seven on Tuesday?”

I bolted upright. We were still on for Tuesday night? I’d been so sure he was going to cancel! “For our non-date, date?” I asked cautiously, making sure I understood. I wasn’t going to make another crazy misstep this time.

He hesitated. “Um, yeah.”

“Can’t wait.” I cleared my throat. “For our non-date date,” I added, wanting to make it very clear that I knew where we stood. Anything to get rid of this terrible awkwardness between us.

There was a pause, and I winced. Had I made it worse by over-emphasizing? Couldn’t I do anything right?

“Um, Lily—”

“I gotta go. Dinner. See you Tuesday.” I hung up before he could bring up the semi. That invite had been the most embarrassing moment of my life. I asked him to the dance and then he called twelve hours later to tell me that he’s got a date with his real girlfriend? Major humiliation.

The phone rang again and I answered it on the first ring, my heart leaping at Rafe’s persistence. What if he had changed his mind? “What?”

“Lily?”

“Oh…” It wasn’t Rafe. I flopped back against my pillows in disappointment. It was a guy’s voice that I didn’t recognize. “Chris?” Maybe the band was going to have practice without Rafe.

“No, it’s Les. Who’s Chris? I thought your boyfriend’s name is Rafe.”

Les? He’d really called me? Wow. I couldn’t believe it. Not that I could get that excited. I knew why Les was giving me the attention. “Chris is my other boyfriend,” I said. “Sorry. It’s hard to keep track.”



“Really? You have two?”

I rolled my eyes at the excitement in his voice. He was so going to lose interest when he found I had no boyfriends. “What’s up, Les?”

“So, the semi. You said you’d give me an answer tonight.”

I bit my lip. What choice did I have? I had to have a life, and Les was the only one asking.

“Lily? Don’t leave me hanging.”

Going to the semi with him would be the first step toward claiming a social life and regaining some degree of respectability after the Rafe fiasco. I had to take it. “Yes, I’ll go.”

“Excellent.” His voice was mellow, but loaded with satisfaction.

I sighed. Why wasn’t I more exited? I mean, he was cute, he was a sophomore, and he liked me. Or, at least, he liked who he thought I was. Close enough to heaven, right?

“So, the guys are thinking about renting a stretch limo for the four couples. Sound good?”

I perked up. “Really? A limo?” I’d never been in a limo before.

“Yeah. Like, dinner first then the dance? Then maybe back to Keith’s for an after-party? Some midnight swimming and stuff?”

And stuff. I didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. I mean, Keith’s mom had never come out the whole time we’d been at the pool. What about at night? Like when his parents were asleep? What kind of stuff did he have in mind?

I suddenly got really nervous.

“So, should the limo come by your place or are you girls going to meet at one house?”

I blinked. “Erin’s. You can pick me up at Erin’s.” As if I was getting into that limo by myself. It had been hard enough to walk into the pool party alone. I was so going in with reinforcements.

“Got it. How about five?”

“Sure.” I pulled open my nightstand and pulled out the blue nail polish. Time to get started on the new Lily.

“Okay, then. Gotta run.”

I hung up and tossed the phone at the pillow. Great. My life was great. I had Les by the ankles. No piano. No audition. Everything was perfect.

So how come I was so depressed?

* * *





By Tuesday night, I was a wreck. I’d practiced the band music until I had it perfectly memorized, but I could tell it was heavy and dull. I was so frustrated I wanted to pull all my hair out. But being bald would be a major impediment to my already-challenged social life, so I had to make do with periodically burying my face in my pillow and screaming until my throat gave out. Turned out that the primal scream thing actually helped a little, so that was a good discovery. See? So things weren’t so bad, right?

I’d spent all day at school on Monday and Tuesday discussing semi plans with my friends, and getting more and more worried about the after-party. My friends were definitely planning on getting some action with their dates, but the thought of Les coming at me for a kiss was just not working for me. At all.