The Fill-In Boyfriend(23)
I thought about my mom, her hair always styled, her makeup always done. I’d rarely seen her any other way. “Yeah . . . I guess so.”
As Bec backed out of the driveway my mother appeared on the porch. I smiled and waved. “So when my mom calls your parents, because she most likely will, they’re going to be okay?”
“I gave her my phone number.”
“Oh. Right.” Other kids probably tricked their parents like that all the time but I’d never had to. “So wait, if you can drive, why did your brother have to drop you off at prom?”
“Because supposedly he needed the car that night, which was another reason I was so angry to see him at prom with you.”
“What was he supposed to be doing?”
“I have no idea.” She pulled away from my house. It was the moment of truth. I was about to see fill-in Bradley again.
CHAPTER 11
When we got to her house, Bec ushered me inside and straight into her bedroom, closing the door. Had this been some sort of elaborate plan to murder me? I did a full circle, taking in a room that didn’t seem like it belonged to her. Well, some of it did—like the band posters of boys wearing guyliner and the roughly sketched charcoal pictures. But then there were beautiful photographs of nature—a wave breaking against a rock, the canopy of a tree, a cloud-filled sky. On her dresser was a big vase full of colorful sea glass.
“That’s what you’re wearing to the barbecue?” she asked, forcing my attention back to her. She was staring at my shoes.
I looked down at my outfit in a panic before I remembered who I was taking fashion advice from. “It got the three-girl vote of approval.”
She sighed. “Okay, whatever. My brother will probably love it. You look . . .” She waved her hand at my outfit as if that counted as an adjective. “So anyway, here’s how this is going to work.”
“Wait. What do you mean how it’s going to work?”
“What I’m going to tell him.”
“He doesn’t know?” I practically yelled.
“Shh.” She looked back at the door then shook her head twice. Here I’d thought he had been the mastermind behind this plan and that Bec had reluctantly arranged it but he didn’t want this at all. Great, he was going to think I wanted him or something when all he really wanted was his old girlfriend back. It was Bec who didn’t. “Believe me, he will be happy that he doesn’t have to go alone.”
“He’d better be or I’m out of here.”
“Oh, no you aren’t. You owe him and even if he doesn’t know this is for the best, you have to help me convince him that it is.”
“You want me to help you convince him?”
“Only if he needs convincing. Now wait here while I talk to him.” She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
There was no way I was waiting here and going into this blind. I needed to know what he thought of this whole thing. I cracked the door just in time to see her disappear around the corner then I followed her.
I pressed my back against the wall at the end of the hall and listened.
“Hey, Bec, what’s up.” At fill-in Bradley’s voice my mind was able to conjure up the perfect image of him—blue eyes, brown hair, tall, a defined jawline.
“Looks like you’re going somewhere,” Bec said.
“I am.”
“I know where you’re going.”
I could almost hear his eyebrow raise.
“And I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”
“Have you been snooping in my mail?”
“She treated you like crap and then cheated on you and you’re going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you show up at her party dateless and alone.”
“How do you know I’m not taking a date?”
I let out a small gasp of surprise. He’d already figured this out without our help. He had claimed on prom night that he would never be in need of a fake date. It was obviously true. Bec wouldn’t even have to reveal that I was here if he really was going with a date. She’d probably be happy that he’d found someone so he didn’t have to take me.
“Oh, please. You don’t have a date. You’ve been a recluse since she broke up with you.”
He laughed and my heart returned to beating a normal rhythm. “Are you trying to go to the party with me, Bec? If you want to go, all you have to do is ask.”