The Boyfriend Bracket

by Kate Evangelista

  The sincerity in Will’s buttery voice softened some of the edges in Stella’s annoyance. “It’s not like you and Cam never went to parties. And don’t you dare say it’s different, because that’s totally sexist. Girls just wanna have fun.”

  Will pinned her with a hard stare. “But it is different.”

  “You’re just like Cam,” Stella said, disgusted. She crossed her arms and pretended not to see the flicker of hurt on Will’s face.

  They sat in thick silence until Stella squirmed. It became obvious that Will wasn’t moving until she explained herself. So she rolled her eyes and started talking.

  “Since school started, guys have been asking me out. I said yes to all of them so that I can find The One.”

  Will’s face paled. “The One?”

  “Yeah.” Stella waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “My senior boyfriend. The guy I will be hanging out with all year. He’ll take me to all the dances. What were you thinking?”

  “And the bracket?” he asked, as if afraid of the answer.

  “Franklin put it together to help me narrow down the candidates. Homecoming is coming up. I need to lock down a date.”

  “What about after senior year? What happens then?”

  “Why are you so interested?” His blank stare made her look up at the ceiling and say, “It’s simple. I break up with him after graduation. We all know high school relationships don’t last into college. Plus I’ll be too busy making my mark in fashion. I just need someone to be my boyfriend for senior year. Plain and simple.”

  Will let out a long breath. “I can’t say I understand completely, but you have to know that half the guys in this thing are idiots, right?”

  She pouted. “They’re actually nice when you get to know them.”

  He opened the book and scanned the pages, then said, “Like Daniel the pervert?”

  “Well, there’s always an exception to the rule.”

  “Give me a good reason not to find this guy and break his face?” He showed her the page with Daniel’s picture in it.

  “Maybe because beating someone up is not you?”

  He snorted, but it was obvious from his face that she’d got him there. “I can beat someone up if I want to.”

  “Just give me back the booklet, please.” She reached out, palm facing the ceiling.

  For a long minute he just looked at her, booklet still gripped in his fingers. Stella actually thought that Will was never giving it up until he finally placed the thing in her hand. She held it to her chest like a lost doll newly found.

  “I’m worried about what Cam will say if he finds out,” he said.

  The triumph in her chest deflated. For a second it had seemed like Will was finally on her side. Maybe even a little jealous that she was dating all these guys. But apparently she had it wrong. In the end, he was still Cam’s bro. The code still stood.

  It was the final nail in the coffin of Stella’s hopes for the possibility of Will. All along, she had been dreaming. Franklin had been right. It was just a silly crush. Unrequited. Totally one-sided.

  Feeling the corners of her eyes prick, Stella pushed to her feet. Like hell would she show Will how sad she felt. How broken her heart finally was.

  “Where are you going?”

  Was that concern she heard in his voice? Maybe her ears were playing tricks on her. She inhaled sharply to keep the coming tears at bay. With all her might, she forced herself to speak.

  “I just remembered that it’s a Friday.” She waved the booklet as she grabbed her bag off the sofa. “I have a date to get ready for. Will you tell Nana I’m sorry that I had to go?”

  She didn’t wait for Will’s response. She hurried out of there, wiping away a stray tear as she closed the front door behind her.

  SIX

  REGRET AND A HARD PLACE

  The days leading up to homecoming were a haze of school and sewing and dates on the right side of the bracket. Stella channeled her pain and frustration into making wearable art. She was in the middle of putting the finishing touches on the skirt when Franklin ambled into her room like he lived there. In her mind, he practically did.

  “Your mom let me in,” he said. Then he gasped. “Oh!”

  Stella sat back on her heels and studied the dress from the floor. “You think it’s too much? It’s definitely too much.”

  “Girl, you should get heartbroken more often.” Franklin circled the dress form standing in the middle of the room.

  “Ha. Ha. Not funny. Plus finally accepting the truth about Will does not a broken heart make.”

  “But you’ve been in love with him since—”

  “Crush,” she corrected. “I was in crush with him. Like you said, it was silly. Nothing more. And you will be happy to know that I have decided on Joey Esposito as my homecoming date for Friday.”

  “You finally picked someone!” Franklin clapped. Then he moved to the board and crossed out Tommy’s name from the running.

  “Might as well move forward, right? I like Joey. He’s fun to be around.” For their second date he had taken her on a hike around her favorite park in town. At sunset. And he had prepared a small picnic at the end. How could she not reward that with going to homecoming together?

  “What about the other half of the bracket?” Franklin gestured to the other names. “Have you decided who goes to the semifinal?”

  “Move Mike Cortez and Hector Villegas up.” She went back to work hand sewing the final details without looking at the board. “They are both solid four star, four heart guys.”

  “You got it,” he said, adding the names to the next set of rectangles. “And this way Aaron can write a song about you, and he’ll become famous like Taylor Swift.”

  Stella’s lips curled into a half smile. Franklin sat on the floor beside her and threaded a needle. She pointed at a section of the skirt, and he got to work. She loved that she never had to ask. She always did the same when she was over at his place.

  After they worked in companionable silence for five minutes, Franklin said, “Sent in everything. You?”

  “All but one. Just making sure my portfolio for Parsons is perfect. I’ll send it next week.”

  “Perfection is in the imperfections. I think they’d rather you send in your most honest work.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.” She bit the corner of her lower lip. “I’m just making sure it’s as perfect as I can make it.”

  “You better get a move on if you want to hear back by January.”

  “I’m nervous,” she confessed. No matter how confident in her talent she felt, Parsons was the school. “What if—”

  “No!” Franklin snapped, waving a finger at her. “You’re not starting that in front of this gorgeous dress. You and I are getting in. Believe it!”

  His conviction banished all her uncertainties. There was no plan B. It was fashion school or working at the mall until she could reapply or join Project Runway. Preferably, she wanted school first, then reality TV. But whatever path would get her to where she wanted to be was worth considering.

  “You like the dress?” she asked after snipping the thread she’d used. Only about a couple inches remained dangling from the needle.

  Franklin took the scissors from her and cut his thread too. “You’ll be best dressed, that’s for sure. The Salads will kill themselves.”

  “Even Lemon?”

  “Especially Lemon, the sour witch.” He pushed to his feet and dusted off his skinny jeans. “I can’t believe you scored such beautiful fabric. I really need to hang out at flea markets more. If only I wasn’t allergic to cheap junk and desperation.”

  “Hey, don’t knock flea markets. They’re the best.” She pushed down the memory of Will brought on by the mention of that day. She stood and stretched, working the kinks out of her neck. “I’m just happy I finished it on time. I honestly thought I bit off more than I could chew with this one.”

  “A corset bodice and a full skirt will do that. How many layers
of tulle do you have under there?”

  “Fifty dollars’ worth.”

  “It looks like it. Oh! I almost forgot the reason I’m here.”

  “And I thought it was to lend me moral support. You know, like any good friend would?”

  “Better.” Franklin winked. He produced a folded piece of paper from his bright electric-blue jeans, which matched his hair.

  She unfolded the paper to discover it was a flyer. “What’s this?”

  “Duh! Read it.”

  “A fashion show?”

  Franklin snatched the flyer from her hands and rattled off the details. “It’s open to all amateur fashion designers. You enter one piece. The audience gets to vote. And the winner gets a full ride to FIDM.” His eyes were so wide, Stella thought they would fall out of their sockets. “A full ride!”

  “You’re not seriously thinking of participating,” Stella said. She’d never had to worry about paying for college. Her parents had been good enough to create a college plan for her when she was born. She thanked her mother. Apparently, the practice was common in the Philippines. “What happened to ‘we’re getting in’?”

  “That hasn’t changed.” Franklin waved the flyer. “I showed you this because I thought it would be fun. Even if we don’t need the scholarship, participating is still experience. The more we put our work out there, the better. It’s in March. And the deadline for entries is still far from now. You have time to think about it.”

  “I already thought about it. And it’s a no for me.”

  She didn’t feel the need to prove herself. And the show was at UCLA. That was Will’s turf.

  “Do what you want.” Franklin’s pout told her more than his words.

  Stella sighed. “Fine. I’ll consider it.”

  No. Not really.

  * * *

  FOR THE REST of the week, all Will wanted to do was kick himself. If only it were anatomically possible. He had messed up. Royally. For a moment, he had thought Stella trusted him when she explained the Boyfriend Bracket. Then he had to go and mention Cam. Immediately he saw the hurt in her eyes, the walls going up. Whatever chances he’d had—not that he was seriously considering a chance with her—were officially obliterated. All because he was being his dumb self.

  Cam stormed into the dorm room they shared, slamming the door. It was so hard, Will was afraid it would fall off its hinges.

  “What’s got your panties twisted?” Will asked.

  Nostrils flaring, Cam paced the tiny space. His fists opened and closed. “Just heard. That little jerk Joey Esposito is taking Stella to homecoming. Joey Esposito!”

  A bitter taste coated Will’s tongue as he forced himself to say, “I heard he’s a nice guy.”

  What the hell was he doing defending the guy for? Of course she’d chosen him. She wrote in that stupid booklet that she liked him. Getting a guy was never Stella’s problem. And any guy who didn’t find her attractive was wrong in the head.

  “He’s on the football team,” Cam said, scowling deep.

  Will turned away from the panel he had been drawing and faced the fuming guy heating up their room. “What does that have to do with it?”

  “I don’t trust football players. Actually, any athlete of any kind. All they have is sex on the brain.”

  Will really wished he hadn’t said that. A knot formed at the pit of his stomach. “I was on the football team.”

  “You’re different,” Cam growled.

  “Thanks?” Will didn’t know if he should have been flattered or insulted.

  “Did you know she cut her hair?”

  Feigning ignorance, he asked, “Who?”

  “Stella!”

  “People get haircuts all the time, Cam,” he pointed out, sounding as chill as possible. Nothing good came from further agitating an enraged bull. Cam might have been shorter than Will, but he was brawny. “You just got a trim last week. If Stella wants to cut her hair, then she can cut her hair.”

  “This is not the time to joke, bro.” Cam continued pacing. Will could actually hear him breathing. “I can’t chaperone her on Friday. Got practice for the exhibition game coach set up.”

  Like a miracle from heaven, an idea popped into Will’s head. A very stupid idea. The worst idea in the world. But he was already talking before his brain could stop him.

  “I’m free this weekend.”

  Cam paused, his eyes narrowed at Will. “What are you saying?”

  Will swallowed, reminding himself to act cool. Bulls went for the soft parts when provoked.

  “Look, Stella’s been having a tough time at school. She’s being bullied by these girls. And she’s worried about getting into college.”

  Cam’s breathing calmed some, and his pacing paused. “How do you know all of this?”

  “She told me when I went home to check on Nana. We were helping her donate dresses. Anyway, that’s not the point. All Stella wants is to have fun.”

  The bull calmed, rubbing his chin. Will saw the gears churning in Cam’s head. “She’ll still go no matter what I say,” he said.

  Will nodded, solemn. “She’s a senior now. You know it’s an important year with lots of dances.”

  Cam’s jaw twitched. “More dates.”

  “Exactly.” Will rubbed his sweat-damp hands over his knees. “But if Stella were to go with someone you trust. Someone who wouldn’t make any moves on her. Just act like a bodyguard/male-deterrent…” He let the sentence trail off.

  The silence in their room was so complete that Will could actually hear someone snoring in the next room. But he waited. The idea had to come from Cam for his plan to work. Meanwhile, Will’s heart was attempting to burrow out of his chest.

  Finally, the light bulb Will was waiting for turned on in Cam.

  “You have to be her date,” Cam said. “You’re the only one I can trust. And everyone still respects you over there. If you’re with Stella, no one will dare bully her anymore, or ask her out.” Then concern spread over his face. “Is that cool? I know I’m asking a lot.”

  “It’s cool.” Will kept his expression blank even as he imagined a tiny version of himself dancing inside his head.

  Cam clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re really doing me a solid, bro. I’ll go call Stella right now and set things up.” Will was about to breathe a sigh of relief when Cam turned around and said with a smile, “It’s not like Stella is one of your random hookups, right?” Then he turned and left.

  The second Cam was out the door, Will let the hurt that his friend’s words brought go through him. What had he done? In Cam’s eyes, he was just a player. Also not good enough for his sister. But he was already in it. Might as well see the plan through.

  Homecoming was in a day. He needed a suit, a tie that matched her dress, and a corsage. So much to do. He grabbed his wallet and keys and hurried on his way.

  SEVEN

  WELCOME HOMECOMING

  Will adjusted his tie again while he sat on the Pattersons’ couch. He waited for Stella to come down. He may have arrived too early, both excited and nervous. He had no idea how Stella took Cam’s matchmaking scheme. She had agreed, so maybe she wasn’t as pissed as Will had thought. Then again, he had no idea what to think.

  Hopefully the tie was the right shade. She had told him during their lunch at the flea market that the fabric she had scored was for her dress. He remembered colors well. As long as she hadn’t changed her mind. On the coffee table sat a clear plastic box that contained a pink orchid corsage. The delicate flower reminded him of Stella’s lips, soft and full.

  Will hooked a finger into his collar and tugged. On the drive over, he had toyed with the idea of actually telling Stella everything. Coming clean. How he was going to do it, he had no idea whatsoever.

  “Here she is!” Mrs. Patterson declared as she descended the stairs.

  Jumping to his feet, Will adjusted his jacket so it sat properly on his shoulders. He smoothed down his tie and ran the palm of his hand over his hair.
With a quick exhale to settle his heart, he grabbed the corsage and moved to the bottom of the stairs.

  His breath caught at the sight. Midway down stood the most gorgeous girl he had ever laid eyes on. A silver pin kept her hair behind one ear. Her makeup was simple yet captivating. And the dress. She had transformed the fabric she had bought at the flea market into something magical.

  It hugged her waist. The puffy skirt stopped above her knees, showing off her long legs. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the sexy strappy shoes.

  A throat was cleared. By whom, he had no idea.

  As if waking up from a dream, Will lifted his gaze to meet hers. What was breathing? What was standing? Will felt light-headed. The floor felt less solid beneath his feet.

  “Well, don’t just stand there.” Mrs. Patterson waved for Stella to come down the rest of the way. “We need pictures.”

  Stella rolled her eyes as if the entire process was annoying. But Will saw the excitement on her face too. She loved this stuff.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Will eased the orchid out of its box. Smiling, Stella lifted her left arm. He slid the band over her hand and secured it on her wrist while Mrs. Patterson documented the momentous event.

  “It’s beautiful,” Stella said, with a softness to her voice that drew Will in.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. Seconds later, goose bumps covered her arms. He bit down on a smile.

  Mrs. Patterson took the plastic box from him. Will placed a hand on the small of Stella’s back. They both smiled for the pictures. Then Stella reminded her mother there were more dances and more pictures to be taken.

  They both said their good-byes. Mrs. Patterson reminded Will to drive safely, that they should both have fun, and to have Stella home by eleven.

  Will guided Stella to his truck, waiting at the curb. She didn’t pull away. It gave him hope. Maybe, just maybe, he had redeemed himself in her eyes. He opened the door for her and helped her up. Only when he drove away from the curb did he feel that everything was going to be all right.

  * * *

  SITTING ON THE passenger seat of Will’s truck, Stella’s knees knocked together. Her hands shook while she sent a text to Franklin that she was on her way. She had never been this nervous before. It was all too much. When Cam had called letting her know Will was taking her to the dance, she had been speechless for the longest time.