The Fill-In Boyfriend
Page 11
Something in me snapped. I wasn’t going to put up with this anymore. I’d been trying to play nice for months now, thinking if I didn’t they might choose her over me. But right now, I had to take the risk because I was tired of feeling like I had to defend myself every time I hung out with my best friends. So in a voice as low and stern as I could manage I said, “I’m done with this. You met Bradley. He’s obviously real. If you continue to play whatever game it is that you’re playing, I will take my friends and you will be gone.”
My hands shook and I shoved them into my pockets so she couldn’t see how upset it had made me to say that. I was assuming what I had told fill-in Bradley the other night was true—that she thought I was the leader of this group. If she thought that, this power play would work.
She narrowed her eyes and her head clicked one notch to the side, like a lioness assessing her next meal. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” her mouth said even though her look said, “Game on.”
“Good. It was just my imagination, then.” I took the steps to the C building quickly, outpacing the group. “See you guys at lunch.”
A group good-bye echoed from the three of them and I ducked into the building while they continued on to the next one. I pressed my back against the wall, counted ten deep breaths until the shakiness was gone, then continued on to class.
I sank into my seat and the girl in front of me, a girl who normally sat on the other side of the room, turned around to pass me the quiz Mrs. Rios was already handing out.
“Thanks,” I said, annoyed Mrs. Rios had chosen to give us a pop quiz on the Monday after prom. I pulled out my phone and quickly sent off a tweet: PSA: Pop Quiz in Government. That should win me a few points with my followers. It made me feel better to do something nice after what I’d just said to Jules. I sighed and tucked my phone away.
“Bad day?” the girl in front of me asked.
I met her eyes lined in thick black, like they always were, and gasped. It was fill-in Bradley’s sister.
CHAPTER 7
“Bec?” I asked.
She just smirked at me then turned back around, retrieving a pencil from her backpack.
“That is so not fair,” I said. “You looked nothing like this at prom.” I gestured toward her outfit, which was black layered with more black, then to her face, which was covered in almost as much makeup as my makeup-hoarding grandma wore on bingo night.
“It was a social experiment. You failed.” Bec paused. “Or succeeded in proving us right. Either way.”
“So you’re mad at me for not recognizing you when you purposefully made it impossible.”
“If that were your worst offense, I’d consider myself lucky.”
I’d done something else to her? Something worse?
Mrs. Rios cleared her throat. “Girls, no talking. It’s time for the quiz.”
This morning had not started off well. Fill-in Bradley could’ve told me that his sister normally dressed like a heavy metal band member. I might’ve remembered her then. She’d only been here a few months—mid-year transfer. As far as I remembered, I hadn’t said more than two words to her, so I wasn’t sure what my other offenses might have been.
I was distracted for the entire quiz, my mind barely registering the questions let alone being able to answer them in an intelligent manner. I tried my best then stared at the back of Bec’s head the rest of class waiting for my opportunity to talk to her. When the bell rang, I grabbed my backpack as quickly as she grabbed hers and matched her step for step out the door.
“What?” she barked when we were in the hall.
I wanted to ask what her brother’s name was, but I couldn’t admit that he hadn’t told me. “I need your brother’s phone number.”
“Why?”
“I just wanted to send him a thank-you text.” Right. A thank-you text. It would go something like Dear fill-in Bradley, Thank you for lying for me and tricking my friends by pretending to be my boyfriend. Now, can you tell me why you decided to come into prom with me? Why you wanted to help me? Why you gave me a super-intense look while we danced like you could see something in me that I had no idea existed? That way I can get you out of my head. Thank you.
“If he wanted you to have his number, he would’ve given it to you.” She seemed to take pleasure in saying this to me.
“He would’ve but he had to leave abruptly with the whole fake fight thing.”
She groaned as if she had just remembered how I had used him again.
“If I give you my number, will you give it to him?”
“If I throw myself down these stairs, will you leave me alone?”
We had exited the building and were standing at the top of the cement stairs. A guy as equally punked-out as her stood at the bottom staring up at us. She didn’t wait for my answer, which technically could’ve been yes or no, just walked down to join him.
“Hey, Gia,” he said when I caught up with them both at the bottom.
I did a double take and realized he was the guy who had been Bec’s date to the prom. “Hi. I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”
He shrugged. “I’ve only been in four of your classes over the last three years. Why would you?”
My cheeks reddened. Had he really? I looked at him again, closer. He honestly didn’t look at all familiar to me, except from prom the other night. We did go to public school—class sizes were big.
My hands shook and I shoved them into my pockets so she couldn’t see how upset it had made me to say that. I was assuming what I had told fill-in Bradley the other night was true—that she thought I was the leader of this group. If she thought that, this power play would work.
She narrowed her eyes and her head clicked one notch to the side, like a lioness assessing her next meal. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” her mouth said even though her look said, “Game on.”
“Good. It was just my imagination, then.” I took the steps to the C building quickly, outpacing the group. “See you guys at lunch.”
A group good-bye echoed from the three of them and I ducked into the building while they continued on to the next one. I pressed my back against the wall, counted ten deep breaths until the shakiness was gone, then continued on to class.
I sank into my seat and the girl in front of me, a girl who normally sat on the other side of the room, turned around to pass me the quiz Mrs. Rios was already handing out.
“Thanks,” I said, annoyed Mrs. Rios had chosen to give us a pop quiz on the Monday after prom. I pulled out my phone and quickly sent off a tweet: PSA: Pop Quiz in Government. That should win me a few points with my followers. It made me feel better to do something nice after what I’d just said to Jules. I sighed and tucked my phone away.
“Bad day?” the girl in front of me asked.
I met her eyes lined in thick black, like they always were, and gasped. It was fill-in Bradley’s sister.
CHAPTER 7
“Bec?” I asked.
She just smirked at me then turned back around, retrieving a pencil from her backpack.
“That is so not fair,” I said. “You looked nothing like this at prom.” I gestured toward her outfit, which was black layered with more black, then to her face, which was covered in almost as much makeup as my makeup-hoarding grandma wore on bingo night.
“It was a social experiment. You failed.” Bec paused. “Or succeeded in proving us right. Either way.”
“So you’re mad at me for not recognizing you when you purposefully made it impossible.”
“If that were your worst offense, I’d consider myself lucky.”
I’d done something else to her? Something worse?
Mrs. Rios cleared her throat. “Girls, no talking. It’s time for the quiz.”
This morning had not started off well. Fill-in Bradley could’ve told me that his sister normally dressed like a heavy metal band member. I might’ve remembered her then. She’d only been here a few months—mid-year transfer. As far as I remembered, I hadn’t said more than two words to her, so I wasn’t sure what my other offenses might have been.
I was distracted for the entire quiz, my mind barely registering the questions let alone being able to answer them in an intelligent manner. I tried my best then stared at the back of Bec’s head the rest of class waiting for my opportunity to talk to her. When the bell rang, I grabbed my backpack as quickly as she grabbed hers and matched her step for step out the door.
“What?” she barked when we were in the hall.
I wanted to ask what her brother’s name was, but I couldn’t admit that he hadn’t told me. “I need your brother’s phone number.”
“Why?”
“I just wanted to send him a thank-you text.” Right. A thank-you text. It would go something like Dear fill-in Bradley, Thank you for lying for me and tricking my friends by pretending to be my boyfriend. Now, can you tell me why you decided to come into prom with me? Why you wanted to help me? Why you gave me a super-intense look while we danced like you could see something in me that I had no idea existed? That way I can get you out of my head. Thank you.
“If he wanted you to have his number, he would’ve given it to you.” She seemed to take pleasure in saying this to me.
“He would’ve but he had to leave abruptly with the whole fake fight thing.”
She groaned as if she had just remembered how I had used him again.
“If I give you my number, will you give it to him?”
“If I throw myself down these stairs, will you leave me alone?”
We had exited the building and were standing at the top of the cement stairs. A guy as equally punked-out as her stood at the bottom staring up at us. She didn’t wait for my answer, which technically could’ve been yes or no, just walked down to join him.
“Hey, Gia,” he said when I caught up with them both at the bottom.
I did a double take and realized he was the guy who had been Bec’s date to the prom. “Hi. I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”
He shrugged. “I’ve only been in four of your classes over the last three years. Why would you?”
My cheeks reddened. Had he really? I looked at him again, closer. He honestly didn’t look at all familiar to me, except from prom the other night. We did go to public school—class sizes were big.
