The Boyfriend Contract

by Melanie Marks

  But hey, he used to worry.

  It’s sad, but I cling to what I can get from Conrad.

  Also I delight that he says “Ouch!” when I call Betty my best friend. And that he went on and on for great lengths through many texts questioning how Betty signed a contract, and he didn’t believe it could hold up in a court of law as he still had a clear photo of our contract—and it said right in it that he could not be replaced as my best friend.

  He ended that text by saying, “So, Betty can bite me.”

  CHAPTER 20

  When Conrad finally got home from hockey camp he immediately started trying to convince me to come to his birthday party that Fawna’s friend was having for him at her fancy la-dee-da house with all her popular la-dee-da friends.

  I squint at him. “Katie is giving you a party?”

  He ducks his head, “Only because she insisted we have it at her house. She has a pool and hot tub, and a room with pool tables and foosball, and she’s having the party catered, I guess.”

  I lean against the wall. “It sounds fun, except there will be people there—especially Katie. She said I’m annoyingly sweet.”

  Conrad: “Well, she’s annoyingly annoying.” He says coaxingly, “Come on, January. You have to come, you’re my best friend. I can’t enjoy my birthday without you there. Katie’s house is huge. You can ignore her and just enjoy the pool—and me.”

  “You? I won’t even get to see you. You’ll be mobbed by your fans—and your girlfriend.”

  He closes his eyes and doesn’t even try to argue the point. “Please come. I’m serious, I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not around. I missed seeing you all summer—and you kept calling Betty your best friend.” He gives an adorable look that is mocking, yet heart-stopping. “I was jealous.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there—annoyingly sweet and all.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I murmur.

  When did this start happening? This kissing of my forehead??

  I like it … but my heart can’t really take it.

  ***

  I drag Paige to the birthday party with me. Though “dragged” is an overstatement, since she was thrilled to go. It was me that I had to drag. I didn’t like the people I knew would be there—Fawna’s friends. I’d quit the cheer-squad after only one season, because I just didn’t really feel comfortable with the crowd I was suddenly always surrounded with—the popular people. The only real friend I made on the squad was Summer Baker anyway. And she had a gorgeous boyfriend, so she didn’t hang around with the squad any more than she mandatorily had to. I didn’t blame her. Her boyfriend is dreamy—and the cheerleaders are catty.

  At the party, Conrad’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Finally made it,” he tells me. Then he says softly, “Thank you for coming.”

  It’s almost as though he’s going to kiss my forehead again. I brace myself for it, my heart stopping. But it doesn’t happen. Fawna is back at his elbow in a flash.

  She says to me with thinly veiled snark, “Oh, you brought a present. How cute.”

  Conrad takes it from me with a huge smile. “Thanks.”

  A bunch of his friends watch as he opens it. (It’s a little embarrassing.)

  He gives me a look when he sees what it is. “Uh, thanks.”

  Okay, this is too awkward. “Um, can I talk to you a second?—alone?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he says, sounding a little surprised, and a whole lot of curious.

  He tells Fawna, “I’ll be right back.”

  She glares at him, slightly; then glares at me, massively. She grits her teeth, but all she says is, “Hurry back—we’re going to play darts, remember?”

  “Right,” he says and kisses her lightly.

  Then he gently takes my elbow and leads me to an empty room. “What’s up?”

  “Happy birthday,” I tell him.

  He nods. “You said that.”

  He adds, “And your card said that. Thanks for it, by the way, and for your gift.”

  He says ‘gift’ kind of quizzically.

  I’d gotten him the boy doll that was advertised with my doll back in the day.

  He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t say I always wanted a doll,” he says with a bewildered smile.

  “Right, but my doll begged for me to get her boyfriend for you—so they can be together sometimes. She begged. It’s love—what could I do?”

  Sardonically he smirks. “Um, not give me a doll in front of my friends?”

  “Look inside his head,” I tell him with a smile.

  He looks at the doll a moment, then shrugs, like what does he care if he destroys this strange/dopey gift. He rips off the head with curiosity, then stares for a moment at what’s inside. “Tickets to Roll,” he says in amazement.

  (It’s his very favorite band.)

  “Two tickets,” I tell him. “You have to take the doll, and take selfies with him—Betty begged.”

  Conrad laughs softly still looking wondrous (since the concert had been sold-out by the time he tried to get tickets, and he had been very bummed—and I’d let him be.)

  “You’re going to the concert with me,” he says, “And you have to take your doll too.”

  “But if I go Fawna will get mad,” I point out reasonably.

  “Well, she’ll have to get over it. I mean, it’s love, right?—what ya going to do?”

  I jerk my eyes up at him. Love??

  He leans against the wall. “I mean, the dolls are in love, right?”

  “Right,” I gush out. “The dolls—right. They’re in love, and want to see Roll really bad.”

  “So it’s a date,” he says. Then he adds after a deliberate pause, “—for the dolls.”

  “For the dolls,” I echo.

  “We’re just chaperoning them,” he says. Then he adds, “But maybe we shouldn’t mention it to Fawna. I don’t think she’d understand.”

  “Few people do,” I tell him whimsically. “Dolls in love, few people get that.”

  “Right,” Conrad’s eyes are on me with a look I can’t quite read. “So Gabe will pick her up at seven.”

  “Gabe?”

  “That’s the name of my doll.”

  “Oh, Gabe—interesting.”

  “Actually, this whole conversation is,” he says with a laugh.

  “Okay, seven. Betty will be waiting and eager.”

  “We should probably get back to the party,” Conrad says. “Or people are going to worry I have a strange thing for dolls.”

  CHAPTER 21

  After wishing Conrad a happy birthday, I did as he promised I could—I avoided everyone and hung out in the hot tub.

  The entire night as I gabbily talked with Paige, I’d feel eyes on me and look up to find Conrad’s eyes on me. But Fawna had him on a leash, and as I’d predicted, he was mobbed with his gobs of friends. Fine. The hot tub was awwwesome. I could stay in it all night.

  … though Conrad’s constant stare was a little baffling … and thrilling. I mean, I’d look up and there it was—his eyes glued to me. All night.

  It had my heart pounding and my body quivering, though I was in a warm cozy tub of awww.

  When I finally got out of the hot tub (reluctantly, but I’d turned into a prune), I overheard Conrad talking with his best friend from the hockey team, Griffin Piper.

  “—yeah, I know what you mean,” Conrad was saying to Griffin. “I had this one girl pal—I’m not going to name names. But we used to be buds—totally chill. But now—lately—things are weird. If I tell her she looks nice she thinks I love her. If I tell her I had a nice time with her, she thinks I want to be her boyfriend.”

  A chill goes through me. Is he talking about me?? Since I made him that stupid candlelight dinner, and made him take my doll on a date … and I’d suggested that we rub each other’s feet?

  Is that why he’d been staring at me all night? Did he think I was flirting with him, hanging out in the hot tub, all happy b
ecause I thought he was longing for me or something crazily pathetic like that, when instead—in reality—he was feeling awkward and wondering how to get me to stop being a loony sad sap, bordering on stalker?

  My heart falls like a brick. I feel as though I’ve been slugged. I grab my clothes and run to my car. Shaking, I lean my head against the steering wheel, feeling like I’m going to cry. Finally, when I manage to keep back my welling tears I text Paige. “Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “You left my party without even saying goodbye to me. Why’d you do that?”

  My heart aching, I stare at Conrad’s text, rubbing at my cry-swollen eyes, trying to rub away the grogginess from my restless night’s sleep, and rub away the agonizing pain that I know will never leave my heart. Not ever.

  Yeah, I left his party last night without saying goodbye, then spent the entire night crying.

  Without replying to his message, I click off my phone, then roll over and try to go back to sleep.

  CHAPTER 23

  Only a few days after Conrad’s birthday party, he knocks on my front door looking grim.

  “Conrad,” I choke out barely above a whisper.

  I’m shocked to see him. He never shows up without texting first. And he never looks grim. Also, we’re in a fight. So why is he here?—and why does he look so heartbroken? Just seeing him like this, I’m chilled to the bone.

  “What is it?” I gasp. “What happened?”

  “Fawna and I broke up,” he says.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “Do—do you want to come in?”

  “Do you want me to?” he asks. He sounds almost challenging.

  I swallow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, for the past few days you’ve been avoiding me and not answering my texts.”

  I wince at the blatant call-out. But yeah, it’s true. I’ve been completely avoiding him, and trying to eradicate him from my mind. I mean, I’ve been traumatized. Mortally injured by what I overheard him telling Griffin. It hurt beyond words. I’ve just been licking my wounds and trying to give him copious “space”—since he seems to think I’m in some demented crushy state when it comes to him. Which okay, I guess I am. But I didn’t realize it was so obvious, and that it had him freaked out.

  It huuuurts.

  Before I can say anything, because I don’t know what to say, he gets a phone call.

  He clicks off the call without looking at it, his eyes never leaving mine.

  But immediately the phone starts ringing again.

  “Just answer it,” I tell him.

  Conrad grunts, then growls into the phone, “What?”

  “Hey, calm down, I’m not Fawna,” I hear the person on the other end say with amusement. (It’s Griffin Piper.) He reminds Conrad that he has to come to some hockey party tonight.

  Conrad shakes his head with another little growl. “I no longer have a date.”

  My heart stops beating because I hear Griffin say, “You could ask January, you know?”

  Conrad squeezes his eyes shut. “No I can’t. That would be … bad. Weird.” He rubs his forehead, “Terrible.”

  My heart falls like a brick. It would be ‘terrible’ to go out with me? I feel like I’ve been slugged in the gut—again.

  Without a word, I slam the door in Conrad’s face.

  He swears in bewildered shock, and hangs up on Griffin. Blatantly confused, with frustration he pounds on my door, “January, you told me to take the call.”

  Wow. That’s what he thinks I’m mad about—that he was talking on the phone instead of to me. He has no clue that I could hear Griffin, or that I know what he was referring to as a “weird” “terrible” idea—going on a date with me.

  I collapse against the door, my heart crushing in on itself.

  ***

  Because I’m a freak and somewhat masochistic (I guess), after a lot of moping, I dress as sexy as possible, then crash the party I wasn’t invited to.

  As soon as I get to the party, I see Conrad’s confused eyes land on me. At first they light up like a Christmas tree, but then his brow scrunches up when it apparently sinks in that he’s ogling me in my sexy dress—and he’s not supposed to do that. He scrubs a hand over his face, and seems torn between trying to look away, and trying to make his way over to me without tripping over his jaw.

  But hey, I wasn’t even a consideration to bring to the party, right?

  I see Conrad swear under his breath, then he makes his way towards me, his eyes glued to me as he dodges his many fan-girls on his way to me.

  Bite me, Conrad.

  I grab the first hockey player I see. Unfortunately, it’s North Moretti, the toughest guy known to school.

  Yet North chuckles, “Okay.”

  He murmurs it against my mouth as my lips crash against his, then instantly he starts kissing me back. H-o-l-y smokes. The dude may be tough, but he can kiss.

  When I finally pull away, dizzy and breathless, he murmurs, “aw.”

  With a reluctant sigh he lets me go.

  Still breathless, I peek at Conrad.

  He’s completely white and silent as he stares at me, frozen. His eyes look defeated. “You have no idea what you’re doing, January.”

  “Yeah she does,” North says with a chuckle. Then he adds playfully, “And the stuff she doesn’t know, I’ll be glad to teach her.”

  Conrad groans slightly. Then he grunts like he’s had enough of this (icky me getting some). He takes my hand, his rough palm warm and firm, “Come on January, this isn’t a place for you.”

  “No,” I try to wrench his hand away. Try to stand my ground. “I want to stay.”

  My eyes go to North and I attempt to purr/flirt. “North doesn’t mind if I stay.”

  A grin flashes on the gorgeous tough guy’s face. “No, I don’t mind.”

  Conrad shoots him the dirtiest glare that has ever been shot.

  North sighs, “But you should probably go, Ballerina. I guess. Otherwise Conrad is going to throw a punch my way. He’s on my team. We’re supposed to annihilate the opposing team, not each other—coach says so. Sorry. It’s the hockey code.”

  I give him a withering look.

  He winces playfully and says with a note of amusement in his voice, “Sorry.”

  Then he adds softly, tracing his lips, “Really.”

  Ugh! They all suck.

  As I turn to storm out of the party, Jake Edwards says, “I don’t care about the code if you want to kiss me, January.”

  At least that’s a better way to end things. I could kiss him for the offer—only it’s Jake Edwards, so no.

  Also, he’s only kidding around probably, so ugh! I grunt and continue storming.

  CHAPTER 24

  As I’m driving home like a maniac (because I am one—obviously. I mean, I just kissed North Moretti. North Moretti!!) I get a text from Conrad when I stop at a red light.

  “January, pull over and talk to me.”

  “No!”

  “January, you’re driving scary crazy.”

  I look in my rearview mirror. Yeah, he’s been following me. Awesome.

  I slink in my seat, but as soon as the light turns green I gun the engine and continue driving like a maniac. Cuz.

  Conrad follows me all the way home, but apparently only to make sure I reached home safely, because as soon as I park my car, he drives away. Probably to go back to the party and make-out with whoever he ended up taking the party—who, by the way, wasn’t me. Jerk!

  I try to focus on my anger. You know, instead of my humiliation.

  And deep, sad sorrow.

  CHAPTER 25

  That night Conrad kept texting me. One message right after another. I didn’t read them—he would be able to tell if I did.

  I was being petty, I know that. But I was hurt. Devastated. The boy I had secretly loved since the first moment I saw him thought it would be “terrible” to date me, and he had basically told Griffin I was a stalker at h
is birthday party.

  Well, who was being a stalker now? I glared at the wildly rising number of unread messages from him—then I blocked him from my phone.

  CHAPTER 26

  Only a week after that party, Conrad disappeared. He didn’t show up in class for days. When I finally asked Griffin about it, Griffin looked bewildered. “He didn’t tell you? The dude moved with his mom to Connecticut.”

  My jaw dropped and my heart fell like a brick. “He what?!”

  “Yeah, apparently his mom found out his dad was cheating on her. She was devastated—like, totaled. She was a wreck. So Conrad moved with her to be near her parents.”

  My heart squeezed with pain. He didn’t even say goodbye to me.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The rest of that day, I had trouble doing that—breathing—and I had to fight back tears. Conrad was gone!

  I know we were in a fight, and I had blocked him from all of my social media. But he didn’t even stop me in the school hallway to tell me that he was leaving. He just … left. Like I didn’t matter.

  After that horrendous information, for weeks I wallowed under a dark cloud. I couldn’t believe that Conrad was gone. I felt so bad for him, and for his mom about the divorce. My heart ached for them. It did. But it ached for me too. My best friend was gone.

  My life was a sad, gloomy place.

  Finally, I felt like I needed to move on. I needed closure. I texted Conrad, “Don’t text me back. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about your parents. I love your mom. And your dad sucks for what he did to her—and to you. I’ll miss you a lot, but I guess it’s better that you moved away. Things got ‘terrible’ between us. But you suck for not saying goodbye to me. By the way, I was going to send you your favorite sweatshirt that you let me borrow, but Paige said I should now burn it. So, sorry. Must be done. Closure, dude.”