The Replacement Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  I couldn’t believe I was about to confess my criteria and let one more person know about my mission. But Iggy might be able to help me in a way Amy and Jaz couldn’t. I opened my notebook and slid it across the table, pointing toward the criteria list.

  Iggy frowned as he read. “What’s a zing meter?”

  I squirmed. “You know.”

  Understanding lit his eyes. “How big is the range? One to five?”

  “One to ten, but ten is reserved for famous unattainables. So technically it’s one to nine.”

  Iggy chewed his bottom lip. “Why don’t you want someone higher than a five? Don’t you want…you know?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  I shook my head. “I had plenty of zing with the guy who dumped me. I’m not going through that again. It totally clouded my judgment.”

  Iggy snorted. “That’s rubbish, Viv.”

  I pointed a finger at him. “I mean it. I don’t want to…lose my head again, and make a bad decision.”

  He narrowed his eyes, examining me. “Okay. If you want my advice, here it is.” He grabbed my pencil and started scribbling. I groaned when I read his edits.

  1. Iggy – Sorry, sweetie; would if I could

  2. Henry Nathan

  3. Drew – Really?

  4. Toff – has potential

  5. If you get this far, call me for more names.

  “You know what? Let’s just forget it,” I said.

  Iggy frowned. “I thought you wanted my expert opinion.”

  Mr. Yang looked up again. “I hope you two are accomplishing actual newspaper business.”

  “Oh, we are,” Iggy said. “Unbelievably so.”

  I jabbed him with my pencil and he yelped.

  Nathan shot us a fake scowl, then winked.

  Iggy gasped. “I knew it,” he whispered. “He watches us a lot. I noticed it last year, didn’t you? Put him on your list.”

  Heat flooded my body. Nathan noticed me? Somehow I’d missed that. I grabbed my pencil and started to erase Nathan’s name, but Iggy’s hand reached out to stop me. “What?” I whispered in frustration.

  “Where is Nathan on the zing meter?”

  “Um.” I bit my lip.

  “Mm hm, that’s what I thought.”

  I recaptured my pencil and erased Nathan’s name. “Which is why he’s not staying on the list.” Way too much zing.

  Iggy shook his head in disgust. “If you’re not willing to listen to reason, I’m out.”

  “But that’s the point,” I sputtered. “I’m trying to only listen to reason. Nothing else.”

  “Nathan,” Iggy called out. “Could you come here for a minute? We need your opinion on something.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “You’re insane, Iggy.”

  Nathan glanced up, eyeing us warily.

  I jumped up, grabbing my backpack. “I need to go,” I said to Mr. Yang. “My mom just texted me. There’s, um, an emergency at the store.”

  Iggy snorted. “Right. A bookstore emergency.”

  Mr. Yang lumbered toward us, hands on his hips. “All right, you two. Maybe you need to work separately in the future. Your chattering distracts the serious journalists.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It won’t happen again.” I shot Iggy the evil eye.

  Mr. Yang gave me a crisp salute. “Good. Don’t forget the new guy interview. And a book review. Hit or Miss, your choice.”

  My newspaper column was called Hit or Miss. I didn’t review many misses because my goal was to get people to fall in love with books, but once in a while I published a miss so people knew I was serious about my reviews. I had to keep it PG-13, reviewing books suitable for freshmen, saving the sexier books for my blog.

  I tugged on my hoodie, not looking at Iggy or Nathan.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Iggy whispered.

  “It better be.” I turned and hurried out of the room, mortified.

  Iggy jumped up and followed me. As soon as we got in the hallway, he put a hand on my shoulder. “Vivian, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. Honestly, I’m so flattered you put me on the list, I want to help. You deserve a good guy. A great guy. Maybe I can help you find one.” He paused. “Toff’s your best bet. He’s always flapping his gums at you.”

  I frowned. “Toff’s a friend. Just a friend, but Jaz made me put him on the list. Our parents have been dating so long he’s basically my brother.” I sighed. “I don’t know, Ig. I’m starting to think this idea is stupid, after all. Maybe I should—”

  “It’s not a bad idea. I support you trying to get over the breakup. Just don’t jump from the frying pan into the fire.”

  “And you made fun of two birds with one stone?” I bit back a smile. I couldn’t stay mad at him.

  “I know, right?” He leaned in and gave me a hug. A platonic, non-zingy hug.

  “I’m going to help. I’ll peruse my giant mental database of straight guys who I think are good enough for you.”

  “Please don’t.” I glanced into the classroom and met Nathan’s curious gaze. Had he heard Iggy? I shook my head. “Your help terrifies me.”

  He laughed and I backed away, crossing my eyes at him.

  I rode home quickly and hid out in my bedroom, grateful to be surrounded by fictional boyfriends instead of real ones.

  “It’s logic, Spock. I thought you’d like that.”

  —Captain Kirk

  CHAPTER NINE

  Saturday, August 30

  By Saturday morning, I’d finalized my list of mission targets, ignoring Jaz’s objections and Amy’s pleas for true love.

  I sat at our kitchen table, dipping lemon biscotti in a steaming mug of coffee and reviewed my list.

  1. Iggy (bust)

  2. Henry: member of the Chess Club and Honor Society. Not quite as geeky as he sounded on paper, he had potential. And he barely pinged my zing meter.

  3. Drew: Drama Club and talent show dictator. Smart but annoying. Minimal zing.

  4. Toff: I’d decided to leave him on there, for now. He was a friend, and I knew I could trust him. Hopefully I wouldn’t make it to number four because it might be awkward to ask him out, sort of like resorting to my cousin for a date. Besides, Toff probably already had a date to the Surfer Ball.

  I wasn’t sure how I’d attack the list, but today my focus was book club. I reviewed my discussion points for Melt with You, a dragon shape-shifter romance.

  1. How hot was Ranz, the hero? OMG he practically burned my e-reader screen. I didn’t think anyone would disagree; but if they did, I had a list of hotness points I’d love to expand on.

  2. Should the heroine have forgiven him when he kind of cheated on her while they were split up? He didn’t 100 percent cheat. It was one make-out session with this girl he met at a club. He’d been drinking to drown his sorrows over the heroine dumping him, and alcohol affected him differently because of his dragon DNA. Plus, he felt tons of remorse.

  I knew we’d have a raucous debate about the forgiveness issue. Mrs. Sloane would be in the never forgive camp; she always was, usually recommending literary castration for the cheaters.

  Hiddles glared at me, meowing by his food bowl. “Good morning to you, too, buttercup,” I grumbled. He hissed until I’d filled the bowl, then he buried his face in the food.

  Mom was already in the store. She loved Saturdays since she could chat with customers and catch up on town gossip. I sucked down more coffee, pausing occasionally to dip my second biscotti in the strong brew. I am not a Chunky Monkey. I squeezed my eyes, pushing away the memory of Jake’s sneer.

  My phone vibrated on the table and a text lit up the screen.

  “Still on for 2:30 today?”

  Dallas.

  Biscotti crumbs lodged in my throat as I reached for my cell. “C u then.”

  The sooner we got the inventory finished, and the sooner he finished coding the software, the better. Then he could go off and play his cello or whatever and I could focus on
boring guys who didn’t ping my zing meter.

  ...

  The morning passed quickly. The Lodge was hosting a group of astrologists on a retreat. The Lodge was owned by former Hollywood celebrities, people who’d made tons of cash and decided to bail on Hollywood and L.A. It was rustic but not gross, and their biggest claim to fame was keeping out the paparazzi. Sometimes celebs in the middle of bad breakups hid out in the private cabins, but sometimes non-famous groups stayed in the main lodge, like today.

  Laughter and chatter from The Lodge guests filled the store. Most of them bought armloads of books. One lady in particular, who claimed to be both psychic and an astrologer, tried her best to suss out Mom’s pen name. She failed, but Mom gave her a free book for trying so hard. As I rang up her other purchases, she stared at me intently.

  “Oh, honey,” she whispered. “Don’t do it.”

  I glanced up. “Don’t do what?”

  “You’re about to make a big mistake.” Her eyes grew big as saucers. “Very big.”

  Goose bumps rose all over me. I dropped her change on the counter. “Sorry.” I fumbled for the coins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She smiled sadly. “Yes, you do.” She sighed, then put a card on the counter. “This is for you. To remind you to follow your heart.”

  I stared at the Tarot card, a riot of colors and imagery. A naked man and woman danced, legs entwined, surrounded by a border of hearts and “The Lovers” printed in a swirling font. The back of my neck prickled as I stared at the card.

  Spock’s voice interrupted my scattered thoughts: “It’s just a card, Vivian. It has no meaning, other than what you assign to it. Remain logical.”

  I slid the card toward the psychic. “Thanks, but you should keep it.”

  She shook her head. “No. Keep it; you’re going to need it.” She hurried away, and I shoved the card into my pocket.

  An hour later, the Lonely Hearts Club squeezed around the tiny table in the bookstore’s kitchen, munching on cookies and M&M’s. As predicted, we had a fiery debate about whether or not the heroine should’ve forgiven Ranz. Mrs. Sloane got so wound up I worried she might have a heart attack.

  Amy set aside her ever-present knitting project and gave a long, prepared speech about the importance of second chances in relationships, which a few people applauded. I clapped to support Amy’s speech, not because I’d ever give Jake a second chance. Natasha argued that Ranz probably had a vitamin deficiency and that was why he cheated. I wished it were that simple; but even though I trusted Natasha’s herbal knowledge, I doubted a dose of vitamins would change Jake’s behavior.

  “What do you think, Vivian?” Mrs. Sloane demanded. “Would you forgive him?”

  I leaned against the counter, thinking of Jake, of my vows to stay logical about love.

  “I don’t know,” I said, opening a new package of cookies for the group. “I mean, he was genuinely remorseful, right? Plus… God, you guys. He was so unbelievably hot I thought my Kindle might explode. Who could resist that kind of chemistry?” I grinned and gyrated around the kitchen singing “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” I only busted out the dance moves for books that totally steamed up my e-reader.

  Everyone laughed and cheered me on, then suddenly froze, their eyes focusing directly behind me. The whoosh from the door was like a cold shower on my goofy dancing. I squeezed my eyes closed. It was a guy; it had to be, based on everyone’s body language.

  And I could think of only one guy who’d wander into the employees-only area, just in time to see me do my fake porn star dance. I sent a desperate girl-face message to Amy. Her wide-eyed reply told me all I needed to know.

  “Hi, Dallas,” I muttered, refusing to turn around. Why was he even here? I’d told him to come after book club.

  “Hi.” His voice was close to my ear. Too close. I stepped away from him, still not looking at him.

  “Are you a romance fan, young man?” Mrs. Sloane demanded, glaring at him with the full force of her anti-cheater rage.

  I finally turned to face him. I expected him to look embarrassed, possibly even mortified. God knew I was. But instead he looked amused as well as ridiculously nerd-hot in his Spiderman T-shirt and board shorts. No way did cello-playing give a person those muscles. Or maybe it did, at least the arms. But what about the rest of—

  “Vivian? Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Natasha raised her eyebrows, looking just like my mom when I forgot my manners.

  Wishing I could disappear, I gestured vaguely toward the table. “Dallas, this is the Lonely Hearts Book Club. Lonely Hearts, this is Dallas. He’s helping us enter the twentieth century.”

  “Twenty-first,” he corrected.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “My mom’s not ready for Google glass.”

  He laughed, shooting me a grin that made my skin tingle.

  “Can I help you find something?” I filled my voice with exaggerated annoyance because I didn’t want him coming back here again during book club. It was a sacred girls-only space where people were supposed to feel safe if they spontaneously burst into song and dance.

  Dallas’s grin faded and he cleared his throat. “Your mom needs paper towels. Some little kid dropped his sippy cup and it exploded.” He shrugged and gave everyone but me a tight smile. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  I yanked a wad of paper towels from the roller. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” He hustled out of the kitchen, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary.

  Everyone turned to stare at me. “What?” I sounded defensive, even to myself.

  Amy fiddled with her flowered hair band. “Um, Viv, you were kind of rude to him.” A circle of heads bobbed in agreement.

  I sank into my chair. “Okay, I know I wasn’t as nice as I normally am. But…he’s just…” I didn’t dare tell them why he rattled me. “It was a private meeting and he interrupted us.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “You’re just embarrassed because he caught you doing your skanky dance. Poor guy. It was a cleaning emergency.”

  “What a sweet boy,” Mrs. Sloane piped up. “But now he thinks we’re a den of sex-crazed vipers.” She winked at me. “And pole dancers.”

  Natasha’s eyebrows shot up again. “Now, now, Marion. Some might say ‘vipers’ is a chauvinistic caricature that demeans women.”

  Megan, our resident grad student, piped up. “True, but sometimes we get power reclaiming words used to shame us.” She turned to me, eyes bright with excitement. “You know, Vivian, if you want to express your sexuality by becoming a pole dancer, that’s your right.”

  “I don’t want to be a pole dancer! I was kidding around.”

  Amy dissolved into giggles.

  “Anyway, meeting time is up,” I said brusquely, hoping to move Dallas and pole-dancing off the agenda. “I need to get back to work. What are we reading for next month?” I turned to Amy, since it was her turn to pick.

  Amy’s eyes shone with excitement. “I found this old book at the library, and I love it! It’s sort of old-fashioned, but it’s awesome. It’s called The Darkest Castle and—”

  “Oh my,” Natasha interrupted. “I remember that one.” She glanced at Megan. “I’m not sure what you’ll think of it. You might not like the stereotypes, since the hero’s one of those broody, domineering types and the heroine might be considered spineless.”

  Megan grinned. “Why do you think I love this book club? I need a break from storming the gates of patriarchy. Besides, you all have taught me that modern romance is full of awesome heroes who support strong women.” She paused to drink her herbal tea, one of Natasha’s custom brews. “None of my classmates get that because they judge without reading.”

  She lifted her tea cup in a toast. “So in the name of grad school research, I say bring on the broody dude! After all, I need to explore how romance books have transformed over the years.” Her grin deepened as Amy clinked her teacup, returning her toast.

  Mrs. Sloane sighed happily. “So
metimes a dark, brooding hero who knows how to kiss a woman senseless is exactly what the doctor ordered.”

  Amy and I shared a secret smile. I opened my mouth to add my support to Amy’s book selection when a light knock sounded on the door. I stifled a groan. What did he want now?

  “Come in,” Mrs. Sloane called. “We’re decent.”

  Everyone but me laughed as Dallas pushed through the door, looking flustered this time. Poor guy was probably terrified he’d find me stripping on the table. “Sorry to interrupt again. We need some, uh,”—he pantomimed using a squirt bottle—“cleaning stuff.” He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing. “Is it under the sink? I can get it.”

  Was he angry with me? I squirmed, embarrassed, while Amy retrieved the cleaning liquid. Dallas gave her a grateful smile that lingered maybe a second too long and a bolt of jealousy shot through me.

  So much for Vulcan cool.

  I pushed away the distracting image of Dallas smiling at Amy and forced myself to resume my role of meeting leader. “I’ll see if we have any copies on the shelves and check the library.”

  “You can buy the ebook cheap,” Amy said.

  “Great, sounds like we’re settled then.”

  Everyone said their good-byes and left the kitchen, except Amy.

  “Do you want to read The Darkest Castle? Or was that a friend perk?” she asked anxiously.

  “Are you kidding? Of course I want to read it, even though I’m sure it violates every rule of the modern, mutually respectful relationship.”

  “Maybe.” Amy shrugged. “Still, I wonder what it’s like to be rescued from a bad guy, to have some gorgeous guy sweep in and save the day,” Amy said. “Oops—spoiler alert.”

  “Well, duh.” I grinned. “It’s a gothic. She’s got to be rescued at some point.”

  Amy sighed happily. “Yeah…that’s my favorite part. He even busts down a door.”

  I put up a hand. “No more spoilers.”

  Amy retrieved the empty glasses from the table. “So I bet we scared Dallas from ever coming into the kitchen again.” She giggled. “He’s so cute.”

  Did Amy like Dallas? And so what if she did? It wasn’t like I had any claim on him, not after the big deal I’d made about not putting him on my RC list.