by Emma Dalton
Dad’s eyebrows knit. “Barrington. The name sounds familiar.”
“He’s quarterback at my school,” I tell him. “So awesome and amazing.” I stop myself from gushing because I don’t want to ruin this for my fake boyfriend. He has a plan to win my dad over and I’m not going to screw it up with my babbling and being overly exuberant.
“He asked you to be his girlfriend?” Dad asks. “That’s wonderful, honey.” He smiles unsurely, as if he’s not exactly sure what this means or what he’s supposed to do with the information. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so this is new for both of us. “Do you like him?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I really do. Like a lot.”
“That’s great. Tell me about him.”
I freeze for a second. Even though I interviewed him, I realize I don’t know him so well. Like, what’s his favorite color? Food?
“He’s so kind and sweet,” I tell him. “And nice.”
“What about his grades? Is he a good student? I wouldn’t want a boyfriend to distract you from focusing on your studies.”
I stop chopping some carrots. “Dad,” I groan. “I’m really excited right now and you’re kind of ruining this for me.”
“Sorry, pumpkin.” He heads over and wraps an arm around me. “I just worry. Doing this single parenting thing without your mom…” His voice trails off.
I lean up to kiss his cheek. “You’re great. Just ease up on the boyfriend thing. You trust me, don’t you?”
He laughs. “Of course I do. It’s him I don’t trust.”
My heart sinks. That’s not good. If my dad already distrusts Brayden, then how is he going to eventually recruit him?
“Brayden’s not like other guys,” I quickly say. “He’s different. Responsible. Thoughtful.”
“I’d like to meet him one day.”
I nod, my head not here. Why am I freaking out that my dad wants to meet my fake boyfriend? This isn’t about me, it’s about him. He needs to make a good impression for himself, not for my benefit.
But darn it, why can’t it be real?
No, I need to keep telling myself not to let my thoughts travel down that road because it’ll only depress me. I chose to fake it with Brayden. I need to live with it.
“Cool,” I say with a wide smile. “Of course.”
Dad returns it and we continue working on dinner. When we’re done, we settle down at the table to eat. My thoughts are on Brayden throughout the entire meal. I wonder what he’s doing right now.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through his social media. A few friends have tagged him in pictures they uploaded a few minutes ago. It seems like he’s hanging out with the football team, cheerleaders, and a few others at Mikey’s Diner. In one picture, Teagyn is so close to him she’s seconds away from brushing her lips against his. I zoom in on the picture to get a better view of his face, trying to determine how he feels about her. He told me during the interview that he’s single, searching for someone special. Is she her? But if that were true, what’s taking him so long to ask her out? I’d know if they dated before, since I’ve had a crush on him since middle school and I know exactly who he dated. Stalkerish, I know, but I can’t help being obsessed with him. Mom would tell me I’m being unhealthy, that I should find someone who would appreciate me. But I want him. For real.
But I’ll take what I can get. For all I know, this might be my first and only boyfriend.
“Pumpkin, please put your phone away,” Dad says before I have a chance to study the picture.
I quickly exit the app before he can see who I’m spying on. “Oh, sorry, Dad.”
He smiles. “That’s okay. Why don’t you tell me about your day?”
I shrug. “Nothing special happened.”
He lifts a brow. “What about the boyfriend?”
My cheeks heat up. “Oh, right. Yeah, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes.”
He takes a spoonful of rice and swallows it down before asking, “Were you texting him just now?”
I glance down at my phone. I wish. Brayden wouldn’t text his fake girlfriend. What for if Dad or no one else can see?
“Yeah,” I lie, forcing a smile.
He shakes his head. “Kids these days. When I was your age we actually had conversations with our friends.”
I try not to roll my eyes at how many times he says this. “I know, I know.” I get to my feet. “I’ll do the dishes.”
He waves me off, telling me not to worry about it. I go up to my room and plop down on my bed with my phone. Now that I’m alone, I study the picture. It was taken at an angle that doesn’t let me see his face so well, only that he’s smiling. At her? I’ve got no clue. But it doesn’t matter anyway. Cheerleaders go with quarterbacks. This dates back to the beginning of time. People like me remain on the last rung of the social ladder.
I’m not feeling sorry for myself, just staying it like it is.
I spy on him for another ten minutes before starting my homework. When I get stuck on math, I text Charlie for help. She’s more than happy to lend her assistance.
A text from Charlie comes when I’m working on chemistry and don’t have a chance to check on it. But when my phone dings two more times, I’m too curious to ignore it. Maybe she’s telling me about the homework she’s got piled up from other kids. I still can’t believe she does this for fun, but she loves school and I’m in awe of her genius brain.
Looking at my phone, my heart catapults to the ceiling when I notice who those three texts are from.
Brayden: Hey, Kara. What’s up?
Brayden: I just got home from Mikey’s. Sorry I didn’t invite you, but it was last minute and I wasn’t sure if it’s your scene.
Brayden: You there?
Brayden texted me? Why? What for? Dad can’t see this. And why does he care if he invited me or not? I’m not his real girlfriend.
My fingers stumble as I tap out a text.
Kara: Hi, Brayden. It’s okay, I don’t mind. We’re not really dating, so you don’t have to be forced to invite me everywhere.
His response comes a few minutes later.
Brayden: I wouldn’t call it being forced. I just thought you might want to hang out.
Kara: Oh, right. Yeah, I’m cool with Mikey’s.
Brayden: And my friends? Do you like them?
I have no idea why this is important to him. Once he’s recruited into his dream college, none of this will matter. But I’m not going to try to psychoanalyze this guy.
Kara: I don’t know them well yet. They seem cool, though.
Brayden: They are. What are you doing right now?
Kara: The dreaded thing we call homework.
Brayden: Ha, I feel you.
Quiet.
His next text comes a little while later.
Brayden: See you tomorrow, girlfriend.
Kara: Right back at ya, boyfriend.
Later that night, after my homework is done and I’ve showered, I lie in bed with my phone on my stomach. Silly me hopes he’ll text again, but of course he doesn’t. My friends do, which I’m really grateful for.
But it’s not the same as my fake boyfriend.
Chapter Twelve
Like yesterday, everyone stares at Brayden and me as we make our way down the hallway, his arm wrapped around my shoulder and mine around his waist. I still can’t get over how delicious this guy smells. For a second, I wonder if I smell good, too, but then I remember that it doesn’t matter.
“I told my dad about you,” I say as we stop by my locker so I can grab my books.
Excitement wells up in his eyes, and it stings a little. How hard is it for me to remember he doesn’t care about me? He only cares about our arrangement. “Really? And?”
I shut my locker, trying to perk up. Ally was right—this is hard. But I can handle it. I’m strong. And like I keep telling myself, this is the only chance I’ll ever have to be close to Brayden.
“He’s happy for us and wants to mee
t you soon,” I say.
He smiles. “That’s great. I’m really looking forward to it. Meeting your dad will be such an honor for me.”
Hugging my books to my chest, we head for chem. “We’ll just have to pick a time when it feels right. Like, not too early and not too late.”
He nods. “Right.”
We reach my classroom and just stand there, looking at each other. He’s about to say something, when some of his friends clap him on the back, trying to drag him off. But then they see me standing there and they salute. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you’re with your girl,” Jerry says. “What’s up, Kara?”
“Not much.”
Jerry and the others slap Brayden’s hands before walking off. As I watch them go, a thought hits me and I face my fake boyfriend. “Brayden, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Who knows about our arrangement?”
His eyebrows come together. “Just Jerry and DeAngelo. Why?”
I shrug. “Well, if we’re trying to make this believable, no one can learn the truth. Because my dad might find out and then…well there goes your chance.”
He smiles. “You’re so nice for worrying about that, but no sweat—the guys won’t tell anyone. They know how desperate I am to impress your dad and they won’t do anything to screw that up.”
“What about the cheerleaders? Teagyn?”
He shakes his head. “It’s just Jerry and DeAngelo.”
Jerry must be a very good friend because he treats me as though I really am Brayden’s girlfriend. He could be rude to me or ignore me or treat me like the invisible person I am, but he doesn’t. I’m glad Brayden has friends he can trust. Rely on.
Same way I’ve got my girls to rely on. I still can’t believe I’ve met such wonderful girls who are just like me. Sometimes I need to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. And every morning, I pinch myself a little harder to check if I’m dreaming about being Brayden’s girlfriend. Fake girlfriend.
“Kara? The bell rang,” Brayden interrupts my thoughts.
I snap in and glance at him. My eyes widen. “You’ll be late to class. You should go!”
He chuckles softly. “That’s okay. My teacher’s pretty laid back about attendance, especially toward certain students.”
My eyebrows furrow. “Oh, you mean like athletes?”
He winks. “Perks of being the quarterback. But I really shouldn’t take advantage of my teacher and get my butt to class. I’ll see you later?”
I wink. “See ya, boyfriend.”
He laughs again. “You know? I never get bored of you calling me that.” And he walks off, leaving me standing there with no darn clue what the heck he meant.
I mean, the guy’s had girlfriends before. So why would my calling him boyfriend mean anything? Because none of those girls did?
No, of course they didn’t because they weren’t pretending.
“Miss Gander, please enter the classroom so I may begin my lesson,” my teacher demands. Peeking into the room, I realize that class has already started.
My cheeks heating up faster than metal, I scurry inside, mumble an apology, and find my seat. A few kids snort at one another. Several others have their gazes fastened on me. I bet most think this thing with Brayden is just a fluke, like his brain short-circuited. They must be so shocked to see us still together. Not that I blame them. Invisible Girl and the star quarterback? It’s a match made in fantasy land, nothing more.
***
“Hey,” Brayden greets as I dump my books in my locker after last period. “Any plans after school?”
I shrug. “Not really. Why?”
He grins. “Want to watch me practice?”
I just stare at him, my insides poking with hopelessness. He doesn’t know I’ve always watched him practice. For years. Yes, he has many things on his mind, like getting recruited to a top college, but it still hurts that he’s never noticed me. He’s never wondered why he crashed into me the other day? Why I was there?
And does he know I haven’t missed any of his games since last year? Wow. Even though I shouldn’t be surprised, this really hurts.
His eyes search mine. “Kara? Are you okay?”
I hike my backpack straps up my shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“Cool. So will you come watch me practice? If you don’t have other plans, that is.”
“Why?”
His eyebrows knit. “Why what?”
I quickly shake my head. “Never mind. Yeah, sure I’ll come. I am your girlfriend after all.”
He laughs. “Thanks. I’ve got to get changed. See you on the bleachers?”
“I’ll be there, boyfriend.”
He chuckles. “Later, girlfriend.” He walks off.
I still have no clue why he wants his fake girlfriend to watch him, but I’m not going to question it because now I have an excuse to watch with no shame. To salivate over his muscles, his smile, at everything that is Brayden Barrington.
Because the guy is seriously yum.
Outside, I make my way to the bleachers, where many other kids, mainly girls, are seated. Most are here to watch the football players practice, some to watch the cheerleaders at the other end of the field.
I feel heated eyes on me, and when I glance to the left, I catch Teagyn glaring at me. What the heck? What have I done to her?
But then I look at the football players and find Brayden waving both arms at me like he’s flagging down a helicopter.
My heart skips a beat as I take in that wide smile and the glee in his eyes. Wow, he’s a very good actor. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the man truly has feelings for me.
“That your girl?” one of the football players, a guy who doesn’t eat lunch with the rest, asks him. Brayden grins and nods, sending me another smile.
“Good for you, man,” another says. “I wish my girl would watch me practice. She’d rather go shopping at the mall with her friends instead. You’re lucky, captain.”
My heart sinks. Is that why he asked me to watch him practice? So he can show off to his teammates that he has a loyal, supportive girlfriend?
He’s captain and the quarterback, so he has a reputation to uphold, but why does it have to be at my expense? But then again, I agreed to this. I have no right to complain.
Waving back at him, I shoot him a large smile. He returns it before following his coach’s orders.
I keep my gaze on Brayden and Brayden alone as the team practices. No matter how many times I watch, it’s always so interesting and new. Brayden has a talent for always keeping the games fresh and intriguing. And so intense and suspenseful. One time last year, he scored the winning touchdown with two seconds left to the game. He pretty much saved the day. I was so happy for him that all I wanted to do was float down the bleachers, into his arms, and tell him how amazing he was.
Footsteps clink clank on the bleachers before four girls drop down near me, one on either side and the others on the row before me. All are freshmen and all stare at me with wide eyes.
“Can I help you…?” I ask unsurely.
The girls glance at one another, as if not sure who should speak. I try to see over their heads to catch Brayden do his thing, but they’re blocking me. So much for watching him practice.
“How did you do it?” one of the girls asks, her eyes wide. The other three play with their hair, as if not sure what to do with themselves.
“Do what?” I ask.
She giggles. “Snag the attention of Brayden Barrington.”
“You’re not exactly…uh…” another adds, glancing at my faded jeans and loose green T-shirt.
I follow her gaze. “What? Popular?”
She nods.
“Or pretty,” another pipes up. Her friend shoots her a look, elbowing her in the ribs. “Or cool.”
“Oh, um. Thanks,” I mutter. They don’t have to remind me of my flaws. I see them every time I look in the mirror.
Giggler bends close. “So? Tell us
your secret, oh wise one.”
“My secret?”
Now all four bend close. “How did you get Brayden’s attention?” they urge.
The coach blows his whistle, and I once again try to see over their heads, but their hair is too poofy and curly. Is Brayden owning practice? Probably. He always does. And I love seeing every second of it. If these girls would move…
“Well?” one of the girls snaps. “Tell us everything!”
I want to laugh out loud. They want to know how to catch the attention of the most popular guy at school? For starters, have a dad he wants to get close to. Or write an article about him and be forced to interview him. Or even better! Have a fake relationship with him. Because all three of those things worked for me.
But of course I don’t tell them that. I just roll my shoulders and tuck my hair behind my ears. “Just be yourself and everything will fall into place.”
Their jaws drop. Then they exchange confused and bewildered expressions with one another.
“That’s it?” Giggler asks. “You were just yourself and he chased after you?”
Oh, man. I’m in serious trouble right now. Who am I to give advice when I don’t even know anything? I’m just Invisible Girl who’d never in a million years have a real boyfriend. And these girls are looking up to me for guidance?
I laugh awkwardly, pulling at some loose strands of hair that slipped out from behind my ear. “Well…yeah. I mean, you can’t force a guy to like you. Or even notice you. They have to notice you on their own.”
They exchange those same confused glances again.
“But,” I continue, holding up my fingers, “Sometimes that’s not enough. Sometimes you have to do a grand gesture to catch their attention. Then they’ll get to know you and fall in love with you.”
“Brayden’s in love with you?!” the girl with the curliest hair, the one blocking my man, bursts out, eyes so wide they’ll pop right off her face.
I laugh again. “Um…well, yeah, I guess.”
They squeal.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I’m totally posting this.”
She reaches for her phone, but I say, “No! Don’t do that.”
She freezes and looks at me in shock.
“It’s just…private, you know? You can’t announce it to the world.”