The Boyfriend Swap

by Meredith Schorr

  I followed him in and closed the door. “You put in a good effort, but you’re up against a champion fighter. It’s best you accept your loss and move on.”

  Perry scrunched his face in pretend confusion. “What did I lose?” Chuckling, he said, “Besides a few pounds. For a middle-aged broad, your Aunt Eileen can cut a rug.”

  Crossing my arms across my chest, I said, “You almost had me going there for a while with your lame attempt to get my father’s attention.”

  “Is Will aware of how crazy you are?” He stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt as if I weren’t standing there.

  I averted my eyes, but not before I caught a glimpse of chest hair. For some reason, I’d imagined Perry with a smooth, hairless chest. Even though it was against my better judgement, Perry was one of those men all straight women pictured naked whether they wanted to or not. “Don’t bring Will into this. You’re just upset I’m winning.”

  “What are you talking about?” Perry asked with wide eyes.

  “You refused to voluntarily cool it with my parents, so I took matters into my own hands and cornered my dad with work. If you noticed, neither of them doled out any attention your way all night.” Of course he’d noticed.

  Perry’s eyes narrowed, followed by the upturn of his lips, and then his torso began to shake.

  “What?” I said as my body temperature rose in confusion.

  Ignoring me, Perry continued to chortle, until I pushed him. “What the hell is so funny?”

  He stopped laughing and shook his head at me. “I had no idea we were in a battle, but I surrender. Happy now?”

  I had gotten what I came for, but it didn’t feel right. He was giving in too easily. “You have nothing else to say?” I asked skeptically.

  “Actually, I do.”

  I smirked. “Go on.”

  Perry sighed. “While I was engaging in holiday cheer with your aunts, uncles, and cousins, you were working. On Christmas Eve. You looked pathetically sad and I felt sorry for you. So…being the nice guy I am, I took pity on you by playing my role as a flaky actor and trying to help you escape your dad’s claws so you could enjoy the holiday instead of working. But it seems your definition of ‘winning’ is slaving away at work with your dad and ‘losing’ is having a good time. So you’re right, you win.”

  I opened my mouth, certain a biting response would find its way off my tongue, but nothing came out.

  Gesturing toward the door, Perry said, “You can let yourself out.”

  He turned his back on me, making it clear a response was unwelcome, and I was relieved because I had nothing to say.

  Robyn

  “I’m stuffed,” Will said, patting his stomach. He sat on the edge of my bed and continued to rub his tummy in small circles. We’d finished Hanukkah dinner and excused ourselves from the table to get ready to meet our friends at the bar.

  I stood in front of him and gave his leg a light tap. “You mostly ate stuffed vegetables. It’s like Chinese food. You’ll be hungry again in thirty minutes.”

  “Even if I can’t eat again until New Year’s Eve, it will be worth it.” His eyes glowed. “Those sfinz things were like crack. I couldn’t stop at just one.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Seriously, I was expecting potato pancakes, which would have been fine, but what we just ate…” He pointed downward as if we could see the kitchen through my hardwood floor. “That was insane.”

  Will at the dinner table was like a little boy with a new train set. It was endearing. Watching him spoon more and more food onto his plate made me hungry, and I wound up eating way more than I usually did. Although when I thought about it, Perry fanboyed my mom’s cooking too and it never rubbed off on me. I brushed the thought aside in favor of a mini history lesson. “What you just experienced was a Sephardic Hanukkah meal. Potato pancakes is an Ashkenazi tradition, but it’s more well-known.” I walked over to my vanity and fiddled with my large collection of bangles before slipping on my Pandora charm bracelet instead. I’d keep the jewelry simple tonight.

  “Maybe I should know more about your background since we’re supposed to be dating and all.”

  When I felt Will’s breath against my neck, I whipped around in surprise. I hadn’t heard the bed move when he got up.

  He smiled apologetically. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t,” I stuttered. I tucked a hair behind my ear and took a timid step back. When the knob from my dresser pressed against my back, I jumped again.

  Will chuckled and put a hand on my shoulder. “Easy, partner.”

  Even though I hadn’t technically done anything wrong, I felt deserving of a scarlet letter for the schoolgirlish way I was acting. Poor Perry deserved better. I walked back to my bed to put some distance between Will and me. “What were you saying about my background?”

  “Only that I should probably know more about you if my friends are supposed to believe you’re my girlfriend. Until this weekend, I didn’t even know you were half Jewish.”

  “We really don’t need to lie to your friends. It’s not like they hang out with my parents after work.” Putting on a charade in front of more people seemed like more work than was necessary.

  “It’s a small town. You never know when they might run into each other. And besides, I haven’t practiced my improv skills in a while.” He grinned. “It will be fun, Snow.”

  I shook my head at him. “If you say so.” I wasn’t sure I’d describe pretending to be a couple as fun but let it go. “I wouldn’t worry too much about not knowing my life story. Even real couples don’t know everything about each other immediately,” I said. I jumped again when I heard a knock on my open bedroom door.

  Jordy leaned against the wall, his broad frame blocking the “Without music, life would be a mistake” poster I’d hung a decade ago. “What do you mean ‘real couples’? Are you guys not a ‘real’ couple? What am I missing?” He glanced from Will to me with furrowed brows.

  My shoulders tightened and a bead of sweat formed on my upper lip. How long had my brother been standing there? For a moment, I debated confessing everything to him. It might be nice to relieve myself of the guilt. But it wasn’t fair to burden another person with my secret. He was waiting for an answer, his arms crossed as he continued to gaze at us with focus. I opened my mouth even though I had no idea what I was going to say.

  Will approached where Jordy was standing. “You’re not missing anything. I haven’t had a chance to tell my high school friends I’m dating Robyn. And your sister here…” He looked at me with bright eyes. “She’s worried they won’t believe us since we didn’t hang out much in school. I told her it doesn’t matter what they believe since it’s the truth.” He tapped me on the nose playfully before facing Jordy again.

  Jordy nodded in understanding. “I bet my sister still can’t believe it herself. Considering…” He winked at me.

  I glared at him. I had no interest in rehashing the details of my high school crush. It was painful enough the night before. I was also more comfortable giving my brother the look of death than making eye contact with Will. Once again, he’d saved the day as if it was in his job description.

  Will glanced at his watch and back up at me. “We should get out of here soon. Almost ready?”

  Still speechless, I answered with a nod of my head.

  “Have fun,” Jordy said.

  “Thanks,” Will and I said in unison.

  Jordy stepped out of the room, and I closed the door behind him. Will and I looked at each other with wide eyes. I was still shaking with residual fear of getting caught, but when Will burst out laughing, I joined him. When I collected myself, I said, “That was too close for comfort.”

  “You were right,” he said.

  “About what?”

  He grinned. “I’m hungry again.”

  I took calming breaths through my
nose as we walked from the crowded parking lot toward the entrance of Billy Murphy’s, a neighborhood bar in East Falls, about ten minutes from Bala Cynwyd. We’d barely escaped my house without exposing our cover, and now we had to convince Will’s friends from high school he was actually dating Snow White. When we reached the front door, Will took my hand. “You ready for this?”

  In my mind, the music from 2 Unlimited’s nineties “jock anthem” cued, and I responded in kind, singing, “Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun,” accompanying it with a raising-the-roof dance move. When Will broke out into a huge grin, I smiled back. “Let’s do this.”

  The moment we entered the dark bar, the scent of buffalo wings wafting through the air, someone shouted, “Robyn!” and I was assaulted by strong male arms. James lifted me up in the air and swung me around before placing me back on the floor. He grabbed both of my hands with his and took me in from the tips of my taupe ballet flats up the length of my royal blue stretch jeans to my yellow top and finally to my face. “Stunning.” Then he smiled into my eyes before pulling me into a hug and squeezing tight. “Yay, Robyn’s here.” He released me and scrutinized Will. “No need to be jealous. I’m still gay.” He laughed and slapped Will on the back.

  Will grinned and shook his hand. “If you weren’t, I’m pretty sure no one else would have a chance with her. Right, Snow?”

  I shrugged. “Probably not.” I beamed up at James’s ever-gorgeous olive-skinned mug. His shaggy almost-black hair flopped charmingly across his forehead over soulful brown eyes. And his full lips broke into a radiant smile that, in addition to showcasing his straight upper teeth and adorably crooked bottom ones, held all the secrets of our childhood, tween, and teenage years. Even better, his head was affixed to a lean toned six-foot body. A romantic pairing for us was never in the cards, but lucky for me, James was as beautiful on the inside as on the outside, and his mere presence was enough to make my jitters all but disappear. I planned to stick close to his side.

  “You two make a handsome couple,” James said with a wink before glancing behind us into the bar. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  I had told Will I’d come clean to James because keeping secrets from him was impossible. At least I assumed it would be if I ever tried.

  As I spotted some of Will’s buddies from high school by a table perched against the seventies wood paneling wall, a surge of shame washed over me and I whispered, “It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. You sure you want to do this?”

  “One hundred percent.” He grinned and motioned to his friends. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s.” Then I shared a stolen moment with James, who smiled at me and squeezed my hand in silent encouragement.

  An hour or so later, I was no longer nervous under the assumption the scariest moments of the night were behind me. After initial surprise at the news of our unexpected pairing, Will’s friends quickly accepted it and moved on. While they reminisced their high school glory days as the cool popular boys—not purposely calling attention to themselves, but drawing observation anyway by virtue of their quiet confidence and ability to entertain each other—James and I reverted to our music-geek personas, taking turns at the jukebox and making an ad hoc dance floor.

  Lost in the beat of “Can’t Stop the Feeling,” my eyes closed as the rhythm took over and stripped all the stress from my body more effectively than any massage or facial ever could. With each wiggle of my shoulders, hips, and butt to the music, my worries melted away. I didn’t think about the possible eradication of the music program, Aimee’s polyps, or the ramifications of pretending my high school dream guy was my real adult boyfriend. I simply danced. When the song ended and I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was Will watching me from across the room, and I froze in place, wondering what he was thinking. My fantasy superpower back in high school was the ability to read Will’s mind, and apparently it was a magic I still craved ten years later.

  As the first notes of “Moves Like Jagger” echoed from the jukebox, he gave me a slow smile, and no longer paralyzed, I moved to the beat and bravely motioned with a “come hither” gesture for him to join me. Since I fully expected him to wave me away, I was shocked when he accepted my invitation.

  As we danced together, I teased, “I thought you’d be too cool to dance in an Irish pub.”

  Moving in closer and placing his hands on my hips, he whispered, “I think I proved myself to be less than cool last night, don’t you?”

  I shivered from his breath in my ear but skillfully parlayed the spasm into a dance move. “You’re full of surprises.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing.”

  “It is,” I said as the music stopped and we locked eyes. Lost for breath, I counted the seconds until the next song came on. It was a slow one, and I took a step back from Will, anxious for him to look away so I could breathe again.

  But Will had other ideas and pulled me toward him. “Might as well put on a good show.”

  I nodded before placing my hands on his shoulders. I had thought sleeping in the same bed as Will was difficult, but it was nothing compared to slow dancing with him. I noticed he’d used my vanilla-scented body wash—it smelled better on him. My head was close to his heart, which I could feel beating underneath his shirt, and I grasped for something to break the silence. Lifting my head away from his chest, I glanced up at him and questioned, “What happens when they turn seventy-one?”

  Will cocked his head to the side and his lips parted slightly. “What?”

  I gulped. “He says in the song he’ll love her until they’re seventy. Then what? They could have a few good decades left.” It was an honest question and one I’d asked myself each time I heard the song, but from the stunned expression on Will’s face, I suspected his earlier definition of quirky where I was concerned had just expanded to include full-fledged “weird.”

  But then the tips of his mouth turned all the way up until his smile practically swallowed his face. “Could you be any cuter?”

  I sucked in my breath. By my calculations, Will had now called me “cute” or some thesaurus equivalent of the word at least three times. But what did it mean to him? Knowing it shouldn’t matter and hating myself for caring too much, I forced myself to mention the unmentionable. As heat coursed through my veins, I said, “Sidney’s cute too.”

  He laughed. “Nah. Sidney’s not cute. She’s sexy and sharp, but she’s not cute.”

  The unintentional jab didn’t surprise me as much as jolt me back to reality, and I begged the song to end already. Of course, Will Brady would date a sassy, sexy lawyer and not a cute Snow White schoolteacher. And who was I to complain anyway? My steady boyfriend was a gorgeous actor whose hotness factor left tongues wagging in his wake wherever he went. But still…it hurt.

  “You’re sexy too,” Will said, his voice throaty.

  My mouth dropped open and I looked up at Will, who regarded me with a sad smile. As the song blessedly ended, I dropped my arms to the sides.

  Will cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

  Red-faced, I pointed at the bar. “Drink?”

  He nodded and as we approached the bartender, I intentionally avoided eye contact with James, who I could feel staring at me from somewhere to my right.

  I accepted the bottle of Magic Hat Number 9 Will bought me, mostly as a prop to assuage the awkwardness I was feeling. I could take a sip when I was lost for something to say or when looking down the head of the bottle was easier than peering into Will’s green-speckled eyes.

  A voice from behind said, “Come outside with me,” and before I could respond, James pulled me onto the bar’s empty outdoor deck.

  Hugging myself to keep warm, I questioned, “Since when do you smoke?” even though I knew the outdoor-only activity had nothing to do with why James had dragged me outside on a cold December nig
ht.

  James draped his coat over my shoulders and smiled. “Frostbite is a small price to pay to find out what’s really going on between my BFF and her new bae.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Snickering, I said, “With your cool lingo, you’d fit in perfectly with my students. Will’s not my real bae, remember?”

  “You can fake being a couple, but you can’t make chemistry where it doesn’t exist.”

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Your point?” When he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot of our conversation, I braced myself for his response. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed something weird was happening between Will and me.

  Facing straight ahead, he said, “There was some serious heat radiating off you guys when you were slow dancing.”

  I shrugged. “He thinks I’m ‘cute.’”

  “Cute is good, Rob.”

  “Yeah, well, Sidney is sexy.” I groaned. Jealousy was not an attractive trait.

  Bumping my shoulder, James said, “You’re sexy too.”

  Biting my cheek, I mumbled, “That’s what he said,” before jerking my head back when James was suddenly standing in front of me, his forehead almost kissing mine. Startled, I asked, “What?”

  He smiled into my eyes. “Will thinks you’re sexy and cute. Will Thomas Brady likes you. And I think I saw an extra bulge in his jeans while you were dancing. How does it feel?”

  A blush heated up my face as I instinctively imagined how Will’s bulge would feel. Certain James could read my mind, I said, “Stop it,” and punched him in the arm. We broke out into a fit of laughter until I regained my bearings. This time it was me who skimmed the area to make sure no one was listening. “Will is with Sidney. He seems to really like her. And I’m dating Perry, remember?”

  James sat down on one of the black metal chairs and stretched out his long legs. “You said it wasn’t serious.”