Ian was probably right. Little things like that. It was what any good boyfriend would do. That didn’t mean most boyfriends did those little things. Send notes. Open car doors. Take me home.
No wonder Ella, Tori, and Harper were always so gaga over their boyfriends. It felt like Christmas had come early. Or I’d scored the game-winning goal at the state championship.
All the time.
And this wasn’t even real.
I couldn’t imagine what the real thing would be like.
Sending each other gooey texts and kissing emojis. Being practically glued to each other.
I’d never really liked the idea of having a boyfriend, at least not enough to give up my total independence. Just doing whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.
But maybe I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.
Whenever I did have a boyfriend for real, I decided he needed to be like Ian.
Nine
Ian pulled into my parking lot, right behind my Dad’s Toyota.
Dad was home early.
I grabbed my book bag and gym bag, ready to thank Ian for the ride home.
Except Ian’s face had turned white. I looked to where he’d fixed his stare, seeing my dad slip out the front door.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a laugh. “It’s just my dad.”
His eyes only grew wider. “That’s exactly why I’m trying not to freak out here. I’ve never met a—uh…”
I was pretty sure I understood what he was trying to say, so I nodded. “Don’t worry. He won’t bite.” I opened the door. “I think,” I said carefully. Then I giggled to myself.
Ian stepped out too. “Are you sure?” he muttered.
But it was too late for me to answer.
My dad made his way down the porch steps quickly, his mouth slightly turned down and his eyes completely serious.
“Hey, dad,” I greeted, but Dad’s eyes weren’t on me. They were on a wide-eyed, slightly shaky Ian.
For someone who towered a good foot, foot and a half, above my Dad, Ian sure did look nervous. I held back a smile.
Ian held out his hand. “Hi. I mean, good afternoon, sir. My name is Ian.”
Ian looked at me like he wasn’t sure what he should do next. He was probably wondering just how much English my dad knew.
I walked up to them both so that we formed an odd sort of triangle.
“Mija, quien es este muchacho?” Dad asked me quietly in Spanish, his gaze never leaving Ian.
“Dad, this is Ian. He’s on the boy’s varsity soccer team. He plays goalkeeper. You’ve seen him,” I explained in Spanish.
My dad eyed him closely, looking him up and down.
Ian glanced back at me.
Dad nodded slowly, just barely. Then he grunted. “Is he…?” he asked quietly.
How to answer that question…I’d never really thought about what I’d tell my parents. It’s not that I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend. I suppose they just expected more of a heads up.
Oops.
Probably should have thought this through.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said in Spanish.
Not understanding at all what I’d just said, Ian gave my dad a small smile, but now my dad looked as serious as a heart attack. Ian took a step back, smile gone.
I gave him a wave. Probably better to go inside now and call it a night. “See you tomorrow?” I called.
He waved but was already opening his car door. Ian looked like he couldn’t leave fast enough. I made a mental note to tease him about it endlessly tomorrow.
My dad and I went inside, and I closed the front door behind me.
My mom stood at the window, peeking out through the blinds. “Lena, who was that?” she asked, hardly tearing her eyes away from our driveway and Ian’s quickly departing car.
“Ian,” I said. “He’s nice. And super talented.”
She turned to me, hands on her hips. “Did you ride home with him? You know you’re not allowed to ride in boys’ cars, Lena.”
But I was already on my way to my room. “So what’s for dinner?” I called.
My mom would probably never let me hear the end of this, but I knew that riding in Ian’s car was definitely no big deal. It’s not like we were making out or anything.
Really, we were just friends.
Nothing more.
The ball soared down toward me, a dark shadow against the sunlight. The chilly fall air bit at my cheeks.
I took a step back to get in front of the ball but not far enough. I widened my arms and leaned back, the ball hitting my chest and then falling at my feet.
“Good,” my dad called.
I dribbled around the cones, cutting this way then that, my feet pounding the grass under me.
About a dozen feet in front of the goal, my foot connected with the ball, sending it in a neat arc toward the net.
It went in just below the left corner.
The corners were my sweet spot, and I loved them because they were almost impossible for the opposing goal keeper to reach.
Which meant the ball would be near impossible to block.
I came to a stop and looked toward my dad. His hands behind his back, he nodded in approval. “Again,” he said.
I did it again and again and again, the ball landing inside the net nine times out of ten.
Then ball control drills. Sprints.
Two hours of practice until my lungs screamed for me to stop and catch my breath. When my dad raised his hand, I knew I could stop for a break. I collapsed on the grass.
It was just me and my dad today, like most Saturdays. Unless one of us was sick or the weather was too harsh, we spent Saturday mornings out here, ever since I could remember.
These practices with my dad were the reason I made the girls’ varsity team sophomore year and could keep up with most of the boys.
I just hoped the hard work paid off and I could score a scholarship to college. Maybe play on the US women’s Olympic team some day?
That would be wild.
Just the thought of it had me smiling up towards the sun.
I stood up, grabbed my water bottle, and took a drink.
Dad walked over. “Keep playing like that, and those schools will have no choice but to ask you to play for them,” he said.
I beamed. He didn’t usually compliment me like that, so I stored his words away like a prized possession.
My foot on the ball in front of me, I said, “Coach says there will be scouts showing up at our big game in a couple of weeks.” With the team’s perfect record so far, they were definitely interested in our top players.
The question was: would they be interested in me?
If I could keep playing like I had the past couple games, I would definitely have a shot.
No matter what, I couldn’t mess up my chances.
After all the hard work I’d put in, I was counting on my soccer career not ending after high school.
It had been a week and a half since this dare had started, and I wondered just how much longer it was going to go on.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t having fun because I definitely was. There were perks to having a boyfriend, it seemed.
Big perks, like getting picked up for school and then dropped off after practice. Ian bought me a coffee or breakfast on some mornings, if I could run out of the house in time.
But what I loved the most about being his pretend girlfriend was having a monopoly on Ian.
No more Bethany texting or calling him before games, after practice, and any time we happened to hang out together.
I actually got to talk to Ian during the school day too. We had lunch together, but he knew that was my #BFF time. Every time he kissed me on the forehead before leaving, though, it reminded me of how things could be. If we kept this up.
Or if he at least stayed single.
It was a lot of fun getting to hang out with my best friend—who happened to be very easy on the eyes—all the time.
Ian
got me. He made me laugh. Made me feel better right before a big soccer game.
“You got this,” he’d assure me before I walked out onto the field.
We hadn’t lost a single game yet, and I knew that it wasn’t just due to practicing non-stop during the week and on the weekends at home with my dad.
Ian helped me keep my head on straight.
I wasn’t sure what I’d do when our game was up, and then some other girl inevitably came along to take him away from me.
Which is why I wasn’t expecting him to level up our fake relationship.
For some reason, he always shared these ideas in the lunch line.
He stood close, really close, and I reminded myself that it was to keep up the charade. “You know, I was thinking,” he began.
I smiled. “Uh oh,” I said. “Be careful. You could hurt yourself.”
He nudged me playfully, and I giggled. His eyes turned serious again. “I was thinking…You know that big game on Friday?”
“Uh huh,” I said, wondering why the lunch line wasn’t moving. Maybe they were out of French fries. Today was chicken sandwich day. They could not be out of French fries already.
Ian kept talking, unaware of the potential dilemma. “Well, I was thinking that…”
I wished he would spit it out. I turned to him, wondering what he was trying to say.
My style was to just rip off the bandaid, but clearly, Ian didn’t have the same approach.
“Maybe,” he went on slowly, and I nodded just as slowly. “Maybe we could sit together and—”
“Ian,” I said with a laugh. “You know we always sit together.”
He glanced away before his gaze met mine again. “I know, but maybe this time, we could, you know, sit together as a couple.”
I furrowed my brow, not understanding what he was saying. “We have been sitting together as a couple.”
He bit his lip. “I mean, like—it’s an hour and a half long trip. I thought we could bring each other’s favorite snacks, maybe you can nap on my shoulder…” His voice faded then, and I could tell he was carefully gauging my reaction.
A grin slowly grew on my face. Then I laughed, not exactly sure why.
The hope on his face disappeared. “Sorry, I know. It’s dumb. Just forget I said it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and I could practically see him trying to disappear.
I put my hand on his arm. “Ian, I don’t think it’s dumb. You just caught me off guard.”
He looked at me. “You sure?
“Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s do it.” I leaned in close. “We are a couple after all.”
He grinned, and the line finally began moving. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “We can make the whole thing cheesy, take some pictures.”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I replied, loving how excited he was for this. For some reason, though, my stomach turned. Was it hot in here or was it just me?
When we got our trays, I looked for the French fries. There they were. Ian handed me the container. “Thanks,” I said, hardly meeting his eyes.
The truth was the whole thing had just turned a little scary. Holding hands and walking together? Saying mushy things in public every once in a while? Spending more time together? I didn’t mind any of that. It was fun. Or sometimes even funny.
But resting my head on Ian’s shoulder and falling asleep? Letting our bodies touch? That was ten times scarier than our truth or dare kiss ever would be.
I had definitely not signed up for this.
And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
The butterflies in my stomach made me feel nervous, like maybe this fake relationship was becoming a little too real.
Which meant the risk was real.
The question was: could I handle it?
Ten
On Friday the boys and girls’ varsity teams were called to the gym just after lunch. We had a long bus ride ahead of us before our game tonight.
We didn’t usually have far away games, but when we did, I always looked forward to them because it meant we got to miss class.
Instead of sitting in a classroom with twenty-five other kids listening to a boring lecture, I got to hang out on a bus, listen to music, and goof around with Ian and everyone else instead.
As I made my way to the gym, my phone buzzed with a text.
Ella: Good luck today! Don’t worry. I’ll take notes for you. We can review them together this weekend :)
I held back a smirk.
Oh, Ella.
I typed out a quick message before hopping on the bus.
Lena: Oh I’m not worried. LOL. Thanks! I’ll get them from you next week. But I can’t study this weekend. Lots to do :)
Ella sent a blank expression emoji.
Tori: Let me guess. Kicking a ball, watching hours of TV, and sleeping in?
Lena: How’d you know? ;)
Ella, Harper, and Rey started making plans to look at college websites tomorrow so I began browsing social media instead.
My bags were at the front of bus with everyone else’s stuff, but right now my seat was empty except for me.
It wasn’t long before Ian arrived. I stood up and let him slide by. He liked the window seat so he could stare outside, while I liked to go from seat to seat so I could talk to the rest of the team, as much as it annoyed our bus driver.
But today would be different.
A couple nights ago, Ian had texted me so we could actually make plans for today. I told him I’d bring a blanket and some snacks. He wouldn’t tell me what he was going to bring.
Just sent a winking emoji, which had me wondering what he was up to.
Ian was way too good at this boyfriend thing.
And it scared me a little.
Now I had my fleece blanket in my lap, perfect for warding off the chill in the air but not for keeping two best friends just that. Friends.
A warm smile lit up Ian’s face next to me. He had a small bag with him, the kind colleges and businesses gave away for free all the time.
I covered his legs with half of my blanket, realizing I needed to scoot in closer to him. Maybe I should have brought a bigger blanket.
But he didn’t seem to mind.
I wondered what was inside the bag, which sat on his lap. “What’s that?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied. “Close your eyes.”
I eyed him. “I’m not sure if I trust you.”
He laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?” he said loudly. Then his voice became softer. “Don’t you trust me?”
We were not strangers to pulling practical jokes on each other. Mostly me on him, but still.
I closed my eyes anyway, wondering what he was going to do.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I opened my mouth to complain, but then something salty and warm hit my tongue.
Recognizing the taste immediately, I opened my eyes and confirmed it. “You brought French fries?” I asked in disbelief. “How are these still warm?” I grabbed a few more, then took the whole thing.
He smiled, clearly proud of himself. “Ran out and grabbed them during lunch just now.”
No wonder I hadn’t seen him. “Clever,” I said, stuffing my mouth with more fries. “Just don’t do this every game because I won’t be scoring goals for much longer if I have these too often.”
I glanced to the front of the bus. Coach would kill me if he saw me eating junk before a big game. But I couldn’t stop eating the fries.
Savoring them. “Yum,” I said. “You win boyfriend of the year,” I said.
I gave him the fries to hold and pulled out some sour gummy worms from my book bag. I knew they were his favorite. In fact, I loved them too.
“For you,” I said.
He opened the bag right away, but instead of popping one in his mouth, he held it up. “Want one?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Every time he did that, it made me laugh and today was no different.
I let him feed me, takin
g the gummy worm from his fingers gently with my mouth.
“Ew,” I heard behind me. It was Katie. “I don’t know if you guys are completely adorable or just gross. Maybe both,” she finished.
Samantha giggled behind her.
Chris came up behind them and looked our way. “What are you two doing?” He saw the snacks in our laps. “Oh wow. You two are gonna be that old couple that wears like the same sweater and stuff and does everything together, aren’t you?” he joked.
“Maybe,” I replied, sounding defensive but not really.
I glanced back at Ian, and he had this weird look on his face.
Finally, Samantha, Katie, and Chris kept moving and found their own seats.
“So what else did you bring?” I asked Ian.
He pulled out a bag of chocolate kisses and a red Gatorade. My favorite flavor.
“Maybe we should save them for after the game,” he said sheepishly.
I giggled. “Good call. I’m not gonna be able to run at all if you keep feeding me.”
He laughed, and the sound of it reached all the way to my belly.
Ian pulled out his phone and his earbuds. “Maybe we can listen to some music instead. I added a few songs to the playlist. Wanna listen?”
I nodded, and he scooted in close again, our shoulders and legs touching.
The bus rumbled to life, and everyone kind of quieted down.
Ian gave me an earbud, and I slipped it into my ear.
The first song was different. His playlist contained loud, upbeat music to get us in the mood to play. And win.
This was like that. Except it was also a love song.
After a while, I settled into Ian’s shoulder. This time, though, he put his arm around me, and I ignored how hard my heart beat against my rib cage.
The more we sat like that, the more right it felt, even if my heart didn’t want to get it together.
And falling asleep on Ian’s shoulder, with his head resting atop of mine?
Not as scary as I thought.
With Homecoming right around the corner, it was all everyone could talk about lately.
Ella and Jesse were going together. And of course, so were Tori and Noah plus Harper and Emerson.
#TheBoyfriendDare Page 5