My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours

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My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours Page 10

by Kristina Springer


  I plaster on a smile and turn around. “Yep. He can’t wait to meet everyone,” I say. I know, I know, but I’ve been lying so much these past two weeks, why stop now? I don’t think there is much of a chance that I can make things any worse than they already are.

  “Yay! It’ll be fun. I bet him and Antonio get along great,” she declares.

  “I’m sure they will,” I reply.

  “My mom had the news on last night and that story about him and the fire came on. I told her how he was your boyfriend and she was like ‘Wow, lucky girl,’ ” Avery tells us.

  I smile. Lucky me!

  Brinnnnnnng! There’s that dang bell. I turn back around, facing the front of the room, and slump down in my seat.

  I escape homeroom without any more incidents and head straight for science.

  “Tori! We missed you yesterday,” Daphne says as I slide into my seat.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling so hot,” I reply. I’m still not.

  “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss a thing. The sub had us work silently on an old lab the entire hour. It was way boring,” Bella says, tapping her pencil on her desk. “And she didn’t even notice that you were gone.”

  I smile at Bella. “Thank you so much for that. I totally owe you.”

  “No prob,” Bella replies.

  The sub takes roll at an excruciatingly slow pace, butchering most of the students’ names. I can’t stop thinking about my e-mail. I haven’t checked it since early this morning while I was getting ready for school. Maybe by some small miracle Sebastian got one of my e-mails and decided to take the chance that I wasn’t a whackadoodle and responded. It could happen. I’ve heard lots of adults say miracles happen every day. I could get one. What else do I have to hold on to?

  I raise my hand when roll call is over, and the sub calls on me. “Can I come up to your table and talk to you?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “Hi,” I say when I reach her. “I’m Tori Barnes.”

  “Hi, Tori,” the sub says.

  “Did Mrs. Wittler leave you a note about me?” I ask.

  She frowns and begins to leaf through the giant pile of papers before her. “Um, I don’t think so,” she finally says. “What’s up?”

  “I’m working on a special project. For the science fair. Mrs. Wittler lets me go to the library on Fridays to work on it,” I state.

  “Oh, of course. So, what do you need from me? A pass?” the sub replies without hesitation.

  Wow. That was easy. Maybe I should ask her for more stuff? No, I need to concentrate. I need to get to my e-mail. “Yeah, thanks.”

  The sub scribbles out a pass to the library, and I take it. I grab my stuff, wave to Daphne and Bella, and head out.

  Minutes after I arrive in the library I’m seated at one of the computers and my e-mail is open. Nothing. Sigh.

  I log on to Buddiez, still hanging on to a sliver of a thread of hope, and Oh. My. God! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Sebastian Colander, the real, living, breathing Sebastian Colander, has accepted my friendship. I can’t sit still. I want to dance. I want to channel all of my old Irish relatives and display my happiness in a jig. I jump out of my seat and clap my hands.

  “Ahem.”

  I turn toward the checkout desk. Mrs. Cass is staring at me, one eyebrow raised, hands on hips in a no-nonsense pose. That’s teacher for “settle down.”

  Message received loud and clear. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and retake my seat.

  My heart is racing though. This is it! Surely the universe is behind me 100 percent. This is going to somehow happen. Sebastian will come to the dance with me. Now that we’re Buddiez friends I’ll write him a note—a lovely note. Something warm and friendly, clever and charming, and not at all like a crazy weirdo Internet stalker. I’m sure I can get him to come to the dance tomorrow. All signs are pointing to yes, so how can he say no?

  I click on Compose and stare at the giant empty box, waiting for the magical note to appear that will deliver Sebastian on my doorstep. Or the school steps if he’d prefer. Whatever.

  Ugh, this is hard. I’m not sure what to say. If I were an eighth-grade boy and some girl wrote asking me to a dance, what would she have to say to get me to go? Aside from saying her name is Taylor Swift, of course. Even I can’t pull off that lie. Maybe flattery? Maybe tell him it’s my dying wish? No, that’s mean. I can always tell him that I told the whole school he was my fake boyfriend and now that he’s real I’d like to introduce him to everyone. No, then he really will think I’m a crazy person.

  I’ll just start typing and see what comes to me.

  Dear Sebastian,

  Hello. I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Tori Barnes and I’m a seventh grader at Norton Junior High in Norton, IL. To be honest, I’m not very good at talking to boys. In fact, you’re the first boy I’ve ever written to. But I figured if I was going to take this huge step and ask a boy to our school dance then I wanted it to be an extra-special boy. Like you. I guess I went and got right to the point of why I’m writing. We have a dance in our school gym here at Norton tomorrow and I would be so honored if you would consider going. With me. I heard about your heroics in saving that family from the fire and I think you are an amazing person. We can go to the dance just as friends (Buddiez friends, LOL). What do you say?

  —Tori

  There. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m all out of options. I’ve just got to hit . . .

  Send.

  And wait.

  Thank goodness the last school bell has finally rung. I’ve been waiting for it all day. I never did get online again to see if Sebastian wrote me back, and the suspense is seriously killing me. We’re at T minus twenty-eight hours until the dance.

  I gather my books and stuff them into my backpack. I’m trying to hurry so I can be the first one on the bus and get one of the back seats. I really don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to go home and get online.

  I shuffle down the hallway, and Avery yells after me. “Bye, Tori! We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “And Sebastian too,” Natalie adds.

  I wave over my shoulder but don’t turn around.

  “Later, Tori,” Daphne calls out as I pass her.

  “Later,” I reply.

  The door is only a few feet ahead. I’m about to make it out of here.

  “Tori! Wait,” Sienna calls.

  I freeze. Shoot. I was so close. I turn around. “Yes?”

  “Do you want a ride home?” she asks.

  “Oh, that’s okay. The bus is fine. Really—”

  “Don’t be silly. My mom’s car is right there.” Sea points out the door to her mom. “C’mon.”

  Ugh. Just what I need. Ten minutes in the car with Sea talking nonstop about Antonio’s visit, the dance with Antonio, the weekend with Antonio, blah blah blah all that boyfriend stuff. I’m going to lose it, I swear.

  “Okay,” I say anyway and follow her out to her car. At least it will get me home and in front of my e-mail faster than the bus would. I climb into the backseat.

  “Hi, Tori,” Sea’s mom says.

  “Hi, Mrs. Baker,” I return.

  Sienna climbs into the seat next to me. “Are you totally excited for tomorrow?”

  “Oh. Yeah,” I reply, trying to sound it.

  “Me, too. Remember the back-to-school dance last year? When we went together?” Sienna asks.

  “Of course.” I smile. “Remember how we were too scared to dance with any boys the whole night? Not that any asked us.”

  “How could they? We spent most of the time standing by the soda machine.” Sienna laughs. “We were kind of dorky last year.”

  I shrug. “Yeah. But I didn’t mind.”

  Sienna looks thoughtful. “Well, we’re sure not dorks this year.”

  “I guess not,” I agree. We’re both pretty quiet for the next few minutes, until we pull into my driveway.

  “Want me to come in and help you pick out your outfit?” Sienna asks.
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  I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride!” I hop out of the car and run up to my house.

  Once I’ve put the double lock on the front door, I practically run to my room and fling myself into my desk chair. I log on to my Buddiez, and yes! There is a reply from Sebastian Colander. I knew it. I’m literally shaking. everything is going to work out.

  I open the message and read.

  Dear Tori,

  Hey. Thanks for the nice letter and invitation to your school’s dance. Sounds like fun. Unfortunately, I can’t make it. For one, I don’t exactly know you. And my parents have this strict rule about me not meeting anyone off of the Internet. I’m sure you’re a normal girl, but you never know when an old crazy bad guy is going to try and lure some kid somewhere, you know? For two, I’m only fourteen and I can’t drive. And three, even if I could drive, my parents would never let me drive that far on my own. I’m real sorry. But hey, if you send me your address I can autograph my picture from the paper and drop it in the mail to you.

  —Sebastian Colander

  Huh. I wonder if his autograph can pop, lock, and drop it?

  I’m so screwed.

  21

  I’m done. Finished. I’ve got nothing left—no more tricks in my bag. The end. I totally failed. But of course I failed. That’s what happens when you lie, right? You don’t win. You lose. Bill Clinton lied about hooking up with Monica Lewinsky. FAIL. Martha Stewart lied about illegally using a stock tip. FAIL. Tori Barnes lied about having a boyfriend named Sebastian Colander. FAIL.

  Ahh! I can’t face the world. I’m going to stay right here in my bed forever.

  “Tori? You awake?” Mom calls from outside my bedroom door.

  “No!” I yell.

  “What? You sound muffled,” she adds.

  I pull the covers off my head and sit up in bed. “No!” I scream, and then flop back down.

  Mom raps on my door. “Can I come in please?”

  I stare at the ceiling. “If you must,” I mumble.

  Mom opens the door and walks over to my bed, her hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone.

  Great. Just great. I am so not in the mood for any phone calls right now. I’m far too busy ruining my entire life to chat.

  “Dad’s on the phone, hon,” she says, holding the phone out to me.

  I shake my head. I’m not in the mood to talk to Dad either. I don’t need him telling me again how he told me so.

  Mom puts the phone back up to her ear. “Jason? Can Tori call you back later? She doesn’t appear to be feeling well.”

  “Thanks,” I mouth.

  “You want me to tell her what?” Mom says. She gives me an odd look. “Okay, hold on, I’ll tell her.” She covers up the mouthpiece of the phone again. “Your dad wants me to tell you that he found that kid you’re looking for and he wants to know if you want him to call him.”

  I’m suddenly feeling even worse than I was just a second ago. I didn’t think it was possible. I wave my hands in front of my face. “No. Tell him no way. Under no circumstances is he to call him. Just forget I ever mentioned it.”

  Mom puts the phone back up to her ear. “Got all that?” she asks Dad. “Okay then. You too. Take care.”

  She hangs up.

  Mom takes a seat on my bed. “Tori? What was that about?”

  “Nothing,” I mutter gloomily.

  “Sure doesn’t sound like nothing,” she continues.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply.

  She sits there for a moment. Probably waiting to see if I’m going to change my mind. When she finally talks she says, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me. But if you want to, I’ll listen. In the meantime, I have the entire day free, so I’m all yours. Want to go shopping and pick out something cute to wear to your dance tonight?”

  Hmm. Well, I was kind of hoping I would catch a twenty-four-hour bug or something and not be able to go to the dance tonight. But maybe it’s worth it to go to the mall. It’s got to be easier to catch the flu in that people-packed place than in my reasonably clean room. And if I do still go to the dance, at least I’ll look cute when everyone finds out I’m a big fraud. “Okay,” I agree.

  “Good.” She nods. “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me out front? We’ll pick up breakfast at the mall.” Mom gives me a cheery smile and leaves my room.

  If she only knew what I’ve been up to these last two and a half weeks, I don’t think she’d be smiling.

  An hour later we’re walking through our second store at the mall. I take a sip from my large frozen mocha. Mom doesn’t let me drink coffee drinks unless I’m super upset and she’s trying to cheer me up. She’s talking about all kinds of stuff, really rambling on and on. She asks about my homework, if I’m going to dress up this year for Halloween, do I think I want to write for the school newspaper again, and so on. She’s talking about everything under the sun except what’s bothering me. She’s so pointedly not talking about Dad’s phone call or why I was upset this morning that it’s starting to drive me nuts. It’s such a total Mom maneuver intended to make me break down and spill.

  I’m trying hard to resist her moves as we sit outside the small bakery in the food court, sharing a giant gooey cinnamon roll.

  “Did you know your grandma used to make me and Aunt Kate homemade cinnamon rolls every single Sunday morning?” Mom says. “I would rest my chin on the kitchen counter and literally drool as I watched her stir the icing and then drip it onto the rolls. They were delicious.” She pops a piece of the roll into her mouth.

  “Okay! Fine! I’ll tell you. Sheesh. Beat it out of me, why don’t you?”

  Mom smiles and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “I’m listening.”

  “Oh, Mom.” My shoulders slump and my bottom lip quivers. I feel like I might cry.

  Mom reaches out and rubs my hand. “It’s okay, Tori. Take your time.”

  “I made a real mess of things, Mom. A really big mess,” I start.

  She nods, waiting for me to go on.

  “Well, Sea stopped talking to me halfway through the summer. She didn’t respond to my e-mails, nothing. Then she comes back looking all superstar, and the kids at school were falling all over her. She said she had this wonderful boyfriend who she met on vacation. His name’s Antonio. I didn’t believe her. I thought she was making him up. I got tired of listening to her go on and on, so I made up a fake boyfriend too. I told a lot of lies. I mean a lot of lies.”

  “Like what?” Mom asks.

  “You name it, I said it. I said Sebastian Colander, that’s my fake boyfriend, was calling me and IMing me. He sent me flowers, and he even gave me a Tiffany necklace.” I stop, gauging her reaction to the necklace. But she doesn’t say anything. “Well, there is a real Sebastian Colander. Who knew? The whole class saw him on the news this week. He lives in Chicago. He’s a local hero. Everyone insisted that I bring him to the dance, and then Sea said she was bringing her boyfriend, Antonio. Yeah, turns out her boyfriend is real. I was positive that she was lying the whole time, and I was just trying to one-up her. But now it’s only me who’s the liar. I don’t know what to do, Mom,” I say. I put my face in my hands.

  Mom’s quiet for a moment. “Tori,” she finally begins, “I think you’ve already gathered that it’s wrong to lie, correct?”

  “Oh, I gather. I gather.”

  “Well, then you need to fix it. Tell Sienna the truth,” she affirms.

  “The truth? Now you sound just like Dad!” I argue.

  “Your dad is right, Tori. And so am I. The only way to fix this is to tell Sienna everything. Tell her how you were feeling—that you were insecure.”

  I frown.

  “She’s your best friend, Tori. She’s going to forgive you. But you’ve got to tell her the truth, and do it now before this thing gets any worse.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “This sucks.”

  “I know, sweetie. But it’s a good lesson. We all go through them.
You’re not the first kid to lie, you know,” Mom states.

  “Have you lied?”

  Mom smiles. “Let’s stay focused here, shall we?”

  Darn.

  “You need to go to the dance tonight and straighten things out with Sienna,” Mom says. “And believe me, tomorrow you’ll feel twenty pounds lighter.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “Dad already told me all that truth-sets-you-free stuff.”

  “You’ve got a smart dad, Tor.”

  22

  Mom pulls up to the front doors of Norton Junior High and puts the car in park. I look down at my outfit. It is pretty cute. Mom bought me a new flowy skirt and T-shirt to wear tonight.

  “C’mon, Tori,” Mom urges. “You can do it. I know it.”

  “I’m glad one of us does,” I return. I stare in through the glass doors. The lights are bright, and there are kids standing around smiling and talking in the entranceway.

  Mom puts a hand on my shoulder. “Sweets, the sooner you get in there, the sooner it will be over with. Start by walking into school. Go on.”

  I grip the car door handle and look at the school entrance once more. I can’t believe I’m really going to walk in there. Alone.

  “I’ll be back at nine to pick you up. Call if you need me to come sooner, okay?” Mom says.

  Like if the crowd turns on me and they hang me from the rafters? I nod and step out of the car. A breeze hits me and I shiver.

  I can do this, I can do this, I chant to myself.

  I pass the kids lingering in the entranceway. Right now I’m trying to put one foot in front of the other.

  I stand by the gym doors, ready to face the music. Hey, I made a funny. I would totally laugh if this wasn’t the worst moment in my entire life. I open one of the heavy wood doors and walk in. The music is loud, and there is a gigantic mirrored disco ball hanging from some pipes near the gym ceiling. The DJ is wearing sunglasses and bopping around behind a table with a stereo on it. He looks like he’s a high schooler. I scan the room looking for Sienna, but I don’t see her yet. There are kids everywhere, and I totally expect them to be whispering to each other, “Where’s Sebastian? Where’s her boyfriend?” but no one is even looking at me.

 

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