The Boyfriend Whisperer 2.0

by Linda Budzinski

  I bite my bottom lip. I have imagined this conversation so many times, it’s like reading a script. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “I did, too.”

  His forehead creases. “Did?”

  I blink. Did? That’s not in the script. “It’s just … I mean—”

  “It’s because of him, isn’t it? Darius.”

  The sound of his name elicits a pang of guilt. I’ve worked hard for the past few hours to put Darius out of my mind. To give Ty and me a chance. And I have to admit, tonight has been a blast. It’s been fun and exciting and exhilarating, and I’ve felt exactly the way I did when I was Ty Walker’s girlfriend. Until …

  “Ty?”

  He lets go of my bracelet and weaves his fingers through mine. “What is it?”

  “Last year. Why did you … you know?”

  He closes his eyes.

  “I mean, I know you said there was nobody else, but I’ve always kind of thought maybe—”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I know it probably seemed that way because I turned around and hooked up. But that wasn’t planned. And it was a mistake.” He looks me in the eye. “When I said there was no one else, I was being honest. I was just … an idiot, basically. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “So what do you think? You and me? Can we start over?”

  I lean the side of my head against my seat and take him in. He is every bit as gorgeous as the first day I laid eyes on him, and I am still drawn to him like a kid to candy. Part of me wants to say yes and never look back. But part of me can’t. I draw his hand close to my heart. “I need some time to think.”

  He grins. “That’s what you said about the concert, and look how awesome that turned out.”

  I smile. “True.”

  He lowers his voice to a near whisper. “If you need time, take it. I’ll be here.”

  He leans toward me, and I close my eyes. His kiss is soft and smooth and easy. It’s a lot like breathing.

  And a little like choking.

  Brie holds up a black-and-blue sweater and frowns. “Why are boys so hard to buy for?”

  “Blake is not hard to buy for,” Maggs says.

  “Right?” I say. “Get him anything with a Nats logo and he’ll love it.”

  “I got him a Nationals jersey last Christmas. And a jacket for his birthday. I need to mix it up this time.”

  I survey the sea of guys’ clothing around me. Should I be buying a present for a boy this year? And if so, which one? I clear my throat. I have something I need to tell my friends. I’ve been putting it off because I know how they’ll react. “So. About last night.”

  Brie and Maggs both drop the shirts they’re holding and turn to me.

  “Yeah?”

  “What happened?”

  “Ty kissed me. And said he wants to get back together.”

  Brie tenses up but says nothing.

  Maggs pastes on a smile. “And what did you say?”

  “I told him I needed some time to think, which I’ve been doing, but which does not seem to be working.” I cover my face with my hands. “Seriously, I have no idea what to do.”

  Brie gives me a hug, which is unexpected but exactly what I need. Brie can surprise me that way.

  “I made up a list of the pros and cons of dating Ty.” I run through it for them, and there are so many pros, I run out of fingers. There’s only one con, but he’s a very big con.

  I groan. “Why does this have to be so hard?”

  “I don’t know,” Brie says. “Too bad there isn’t some magic formula out there that can tell you what to do.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “That’s what I need.”

  Brie stares at me, smirking, waiting for me to get it.

  When I finally do, I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, very funny. So I guess that’s two cons: Libby doesn’t think Ty is my match.”

  “And Libby is never wrong.”

  I stick out my tongue. Speaking of Libby’s matches, I turn to Maggs. “What about you?”

  “Me? What about me?”

  “I don’t know. I sort of feel like … you and Aiden? There’s maybe a spark there?”

  She shrugs and busies herself with examining another sweater. “We may have bonded in the back seat as we tried to avoid gagging over you and Ty and your Factory Boys fandom.” She attempts to imitate our singing and, of course, screws up the lyrics.

  “Hashtag Assembly Line!” I say as I offer her a fist.

  Maggs gives me a bump. “If I’m being honest, I do think he’s kind of cute.”

  “You do?”

  She nods. “It’s the dark eyes. And that sweet smile—the way his top lip sort of goes … ” She attempts a lopsided grin that looks more deranged than sweet. “Only his is cuter, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” Brie takes the sweater from her and holds it up. “This seems like a winner. Blake looks hot in gray.” She turns to me. “But you don’t get to change the subject so easily. We need to figure out whether you’re going to choose Ty or Darius. You can’t go into Christmas break undecided.”

  She’s right. I’d obsess over it. It would ruin my holiday. Besides, stringing along two boys is not my style.

  “Want my advice?” Brie takes a step toward me and continues without waiting for my reply. “Here it is: You named a dozen pros of dating Ty and only one con. But if that one con is a match for all those pros—and since you’re so tortured about this, I think it is—well … there’s your answer. Your heart is telling you something, and it’s time for your mind to start listening.”

  I hate it when Brie’s right. But, once again, she is. I’ve mulled it over all weekend. Ty comes with some amazing perks, but when I close my eyes, Darius is the boy I dream about.

  I clutch a roll of paper towels to my chest and inhale the lemony scent of the F Hall janitor’s closet. I texted Ty to meet me here before school starts so I can give him my answer. I want to do it in person, and I want to be as far away from our classmates as possible so we can avoid a scene.

  It’s not his reaction I’m worried about; it’s my own. Can I even do this? Will my mouth form the words necessary to tell Ty Walker I do not want to date him?

  I hear footsteps turning the corner to the hallway, so I sit down on a stool. Then I stand, then sit, then stand again. What should I be doing? Ty opens the door and catches me halfway between a sit and a stand, and I knock over the stool. “Oh, hi.”

  He grins, eyebrows raised, and shuts the door behind him. It suddenly occurs to me that the F Hall janitor’s closet may have been a poor choice. What if he has the wrong idea? I pick up the stool and perch on it and motion for him to take a seat on the stepladder next to me.

  He gently takes the roll of paper towels away and sets them on a shelf behind us, and he takes my hands in his. “You’re trembling.”

  “Am I? Maybe a little.” My voice certainly is.

  He scoots his ladder closer and wraps his arm around my waist. Okay, this is not going as planned. Part of me is tempted to switch gears and go with the flow. My body involuntarily leans into him, and it takes every ounce of mental scolding to pull it back. I jump up and practically knock over the stool again. “Sorry. I … the thing is … I … wanted to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  I pace back and forth in the closet. “I want to thank you for taking me to the concert—Maggs and Brie, too—and for the candy cane, and for asking me to get back together, but … ” My voice cracks, and I stop. What am I doing?

  Ty stands and walks toward me. He hands circle my hips. “There is no ‘but.’ We were good together, Alicea, and we can be again. We belong together.”

  I meet his gaze. Those are words I’ve believed with all my heart for years, and words I want to believe even now. But Libby says they’re a lie. So did the choking sensation I had when he kissed me the other night. And so does the feeling I get whenever I think about Darius Groves.

  I clos
e my eyes and shake my head. “There is a ‘but.’ I wish there weren’t, but there is.” I take a deep breath and pull him toward me, into a final hug, partly so he can’t see the tears forming. I’m ending something that has been at the center of my dreams and desires since the start of high school. A month ago, this would have been unthinkable. “So thank you again, but … ” My voice catches in my throat. “No. I can’t.”

  We stand like that for a long minute. When the warning bell rings, Ty kisses the top of my forehead and leaves without a word. I grab a paper towel and press it to my face as I slump onto the stool. I did it. I actually said “no.”

  I can still feel the sensation of Ty’s arms around me as we stood here, and a huge part of me would do anything to have that back, but I take a deep breath and picture Darius. Because he is my new “yes.” And that thought makes so much sense to me in this moment, I know saying goodbye to Ty was right. It hurt, but it was right.

  I blow my nose into the paper towel and force myself to stand. I wipe my eyes, stretch my shoulders back, and emerge into F Hall. As I walk through the school toward my locker, I give myself the mother of all pep talks.

  You’ve got this, Alicea. You did what you had to do. You should be proud of yourself. You’re not the same girl you were when you first saw Ty freshman year. You’re not even the same person you were last year when you hired Lexi to whisper him. You’re a brave, confident senior now, and you need to use that confidence to show the world that you don’t care what anyone thinks. You and Darius Groves are a couple, and if they don’t like it, that’s their problem.

  As I round the corner to face the crowds of C Hall, I force a smile. A guy from my gym class smiles back. Two sophomores in cheer uniforms wave at me. As my smile gets wider and wider, a girl I swear I’ve never even seen before gives me a thumbs up. Can these people see the change in me? Have I finally found the swagger I envied in Ty so long ago?

  I stop at my locker, and as I twirl the combination, I find myself humming the Factory Boys. Your eyes, your lips, your sweet curvy lines. And in my dreams, I make you mine, so fine.

  “Well, aren’t you in a good mood?”

  I look up to find Lauren grinning at me. “I am, actually.”

  “You should be.” She leans toward me, her eyes wide, her tone conspiratorial. “I knew you could do better. Way to go.” And with that, she flounces off down the hallway.

  My locker pops open and slams into my knee, but I barely feel it.

  Way to go? What’s that supposed to mean?

  I lean my head against the chain of the swing. It’s rattling, and it takes me a while to realize it’s because I’m shaking. Where’s Darius? I texted him to meet me here after school. What if he doesn’t show?

  I pull up the photo on my phone for the millionth time today and stare. Ugh. Brie and Maggs and I had a deal Friday night. No Instagramming, for obvious reasons, but apparently Brie failed to inform Blake. This morning he posted a selfie from the concert with Brie, and there in the background, as clear as a bright spring day, are Ty and me dancing and laughing. One of Blake’s friends tagged Ty, and the comments began pouring in, dozens of them, all assuming we’d kissed and made up and gotten back together.

  When I discovered all of this shortly after the start of first period, I ran to the nurse’s office, called my mom, and got permission to go home sick. It was only a partial lie. All day long I lay in bed wondering what I should say to Darius.

  My phone beeps.

  Brie: I am so sorry. Please text back.

  It’s her thousandth text of the day, but I can’t bring myself to respond. This is a disaster. How could she be so careless?

  I twist the swing around and around and around, lean back, and let it unwind as I peer up into the sky, wishing I could fly away into the clouds. As angry as I am at Brie, I know she’s not really the one to blame. I close my eyes. What have I done?

  “Hey.” Darius’s voice startles me. “I got your text.”

  I plant my feet on the ground and stand, dizzy from all the twirling. I grasp at the chain and try to meet his gaze, but he looks away.

  “Thanks for coming. I was afraid you … might not.”

  “Yeah, well.” He clenches his jaw, and the scar on his chin appears darker than usual. “I wanted to be sure to congratulate you on getting back together with Wonder Boy. Guess you two deserve each other.” With that, he looks me in the eye, a challenge hovering in his stare.

  “We’re not back together. Like I said in my text, it’s all a big misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding.” His tone is as sharp as his gaze. “Which part? Did I misunderstand you when you told me you couldn’t get together this weekend because you had too much Christmas stuff to do? Or did I misunderstand you when I texted to ask how your weekend was and you forgot to mention you went to a concert with Ty? Or maybe the part I misunderstood was the part where we spent the past three weeks here in this crappy little park making out and I thought we actually … ” His voice gives out. “Whatever. I’m guessing it was all of the above.”

  “No.” I walk toward him, but he backs off. For the millionth time today, my eyes well up. I can feel the hurt, the betrayal, emanating from him. It’s a feeling I know too well and one I certainly never meant to inflict on him. “Can I please explain?”

  Darius turns and walks away, and for a moment, I’m afraid he’s leaving, but he stops and hoists himself up onto the center bar of the seesaw. He picks at a rust spot, silent.

  I walk over and lift the seesaw, balancing it at its midpoint. I need something to hold onto, something to keep me from grabbing him as I so desperately want to do. “Yes, Ty and I went to the concert, but no, we are not back together.” I tell him the whole story, from the candy cane right through to our goodbye hug this morning in the F Hall janitor’s closet. I leave out the part about the kiss. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  I wait for him to respond, but he sits, mute, pick-pick-picking at the rust.

  I drop the seesaw and risk walking closer to him. “The thing about getting ready for Christmas was partly true, because I did go shopping Saturday and I baked two pies yesterday, not that that makes it right, but—”

  “Come on, Alicea.” His head snaps up, and his eyes meet mine. “You lied. Admit it.”

  I recoil at his words.

  He stands to leave, but I grab his arm. “You’re right,” I say. “I lied. But that’s only because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I see.” His laugh is hard. “How’s that working out for you?”

  I shut my eyes. I deserve this. I know it. “I said I’m sorry, and I am. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I know what you should do.”

  I wait for it. Is he going to tell me to get out of his sight? Go back to Ty? Go to hell?

  He leans toward me, and when he speaks, his voice is so soft I can barely hear him. “You should figure out why you were willing to give up your dream of dating Ty Walker to go out with a guy like me.” With that, he shakes off my hold, turns, and walks across the playground to his car, leaving me to stare after him.

  Well. That was unexpected.

  I convince Mom and Dad to let me stay home from school the next day. It’s Tuesday, the last day before Christmas break, and half my teachers are mailing it in with movies and games anyway. This gives me a full nine days before I have to face Darius, Ty, and hallways full of my classmates. With the exception of a few texts with Maggs and Brie, whom I’ve finally forgiven, I have zero contact with the outside world for three days.

  The first time I venture outside the house is to go to church on Christmas Eve. Of course, the first hymn we sing is “Angels We Have Heard on High,” and I spend the rest of the service trying not to cry. How could I have screwed things up with Darius so thoroughly?

  As we leave the service, I hear someone calling my name. With the Christmas Eve crowd, I thought I might escape without having to talk to anyone from school. I turn to find
Aiden heading toward me.

  I force a smile. “Hey. I didn’t know you went to St. James.”

  “We don’t come very often. Christmas and Easter mostly.” He leans toward me. “Can we talk?”

  I nod to my brother. “Tell Mom and Dad I’ll meet you at the car.” I grab Aiden’s arm and pull him off toward an empty alcove. “What’s up?”

  He digs around in his pocket. “I got a gift for Maggs.” He opens a small rectangular box to reveal an orange leather wrap bracelet with daisy beads. “Think she’ll like it?”

  I stare, mouth open. It is so Maggs.

  “It’s too much, isn’t it?” Aiden shoves the box back into his pocket, muttering, “I’m such an idiot. What am I thinking? Maggs barely knows I’m alive.”

  “She thinks you’re cute.” It’s out before I can stop myself.

  “What?”

  I purse my lips. Darn it. Did I seriously just break the best friend code?

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What exactly did she say?”

  “Nothing. I’ve revealed too much already. Still … I think you should give her the bracelet. It’s perfect. She’ll love it.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.”

  “Cool. I was planning to surprise her with it after your New Year’s Eve performance.”

  “Perfect. And Aiden?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be sure to flash that smile when you give it to her.”

  I barely sleep that night, and not because I’m excited for Santa. I keep turning Darius’s question over in my mind. Why did I pick him over Ty? It wasn’t just because of Libby, or the kissing, or even the way Darius makes me feel. There’s more to it, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Of course, none of it matters now that I’ve blown it with him.

  I groan into my pillow. A moment later, my bedroom door flies open.

  “Are you okay?” It’s Andrew.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” I sit up and blink hard, trying to erase all traces of Darius Groves from my brain. “I’m fine. Go away.”