by Violet Paige
“No. Stop twisting my words, matchmaker. Besides, Beau is too busy checking things off his bucket list to date anyone.”
“What’s he working on now?”
“Well, today he’s playing in an intramural tournament to win a T-shirt. Dumb, right?”
“He’s in a championship?” Nina looked shocked.
“Yeah, so?”
“London, that’s a big deal. Why aren’t you going?”
“Wait, you understand that we are fake dating, right? I’m not actually his girlfriend. The blog, the dates, it’s all for the project.”
“Whatever. You need to get your fake girlfriend ass over to that tournament and cheer for him. It’s a big deal to get one of those shirts.”
I held up the script. “I have work to do here. I’m the only one who can learn my new lines for act three. I have responsibilities.”
“I’ll take care of the tyrant.” Nina motioned to Derek, who was flailing his arms in the air. “You go have fun. Cheer for your fake boyfriend.”
Maybe her suggestion wasn’t so absurd. I could go to the game for a few minutes. Just for moral group partner support. I jumped off the couch, forgetting for a second the headache that had plagued me all morning.
“Thanks, girl.”
“London, wait. Where are you going?” I heard Derek call for me.
I turned toward him as he ran across the basement. “Talk to Nina. Seriously, Derek. Go talk to her.”
“But I thought we were going to work on the material I wrote for you.”
“I’ll be back later. I have somewhere I have to go. Don’t worry. I’m coming back.”
I raced up the stairs and straight to Woolen Gym before he could guilt me into changing my mind.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” A glistening Beau smiled at me. This was the first time I noticed that a hot and sweaty guy wasn’t completely gross. Especially one who smiled like that.
“Is that one of those famous T-shirts? Can I see it?”
Beau tossed the shirt at me and I held it up to admire. “Wow. Pretty awesome. Congratulations. You checked another thing off your list.” I was used to praising my costars, but I wasn’t sure what to say to an intramural athlete.
“Thanks. This one means a lot. Let me see that.” He jerked the victory shirt out of my hands.
In slow motion, Beau peeled his sticky, gray T-shirt from his torso, pulling it over his head while giving me a full visual of all the muscles I thought might exist under there. He fidgeted with the zipper on his gym bag before stashing the wet shirt in a side pocket. He didn’t seem to mind standing on the drafty basketball court half naked. I did my best to keep my jaw from dropping.
“Dude. We finally got one.” One of the other players walked up and slapped Beau on the back.
“Yeah, man. It was a longtime coming.” Beau slipped the dry shirt on over his head.
Another sweaty teammate joined the excitement. “That game was tight.”
I stood, watching the guys congratulate each other on their victory. A few other teammates walked up to join the discussion.
Hesitant to interrupt their celebration, I waved over their heads. “I just wanted to see the big game. I’m going to head back to the theater. Rehearsals are intense right now.” I walked backward a few steps before hitting the corner of the bleachers with the back of my knees. Ouch.
“London, thanks for coming to the game.” He waved and huddled back with the other guys.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure thing. See you in class.”
Hoping his teammates didn’t see me stumble into the seats, I turned and headed back to Graham Memorial and my cast mates.
“So, how did it go? Did the fake boyfriend win?” Nina greeted me as soon as I entered the basement.
I sighed. I had been in a funk the entire walk across campus. “Yes. He won. T-shirt and all.”
“Why are you back here so soon? I thought you’d go out for a victory drink or something on his bike.” She winked.
“No. I showed my support. I didn’t want to let everyone here down. I’ve got lines to work on.”
I noticed the script pages I had dumped on the couch were still lying where I placed them. I snatched them up and started reading the new words Derek created.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this that easily. What happened? You seem upset—all moody and gloomy.”
I brushed my bangs to the side and let my shoulders slide. “He was busy. All the guys were excited about the game—I left so they could hang out and celebrate. Isn’t that what good fake girlfriends do?” I tried to smile.
I shouldn’t feel disappointed. Beau and I didn’t have plans. We were free to do whatever we wanted to do on the weekends, and I needed to focus on the play. He had even agreed to put our next date on hold so I could devote more time to rehearsals. I guess part of me thought he might ask me to work on the project, but that was silly. We have other things in our lives other than Comm 224 and Love Match.
“No, that’s perfect. Play hard to get. Give him time with the boys. They love that.” Nina’s smile reached from ear to ear.
“Nina! I’m not after him. There is absolutely no plotting going on here.” I was starting to think she could hear my thoughts. “Now, can you just read through these lines with me?” I sat on the couch, inhaled a deep breath, and practiced my new monologue.
It was almost ten at night by the time we wrapped rehearsals for the day. It was grueling going through so many runs, but I felt good about what we had accomplished. Derek, as usual, had delivered some amazing dialogue additions. Too bad he couldn’t share his creative triumphs with Nina. She was ready to pour on the celebratory lovin’.
My phone vibrated in the back of my bag just as Nina and I were walking out of the basement.
Want to go to the game with me on Thursday?
It was a text from Beau. A swirl of attach butterflies hit my stomach all at once.
I typed.
What game?
He responded.
Funny
Really, what game?
Maybe I should have asked Nina before I sent that text, but I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
You go to Carolina. It’s a basketball game. Date 3.
I had rehearsals Thursday night, but this project was important. They could handle it if I missed one night.
Ok. I’m in.
Thanks for coming to my game today. See you in class.
I thought before I texted again. What would Victoria text to one of the bachelors? She kept all of those guys hanging on her every word.
See ya
Ok, it wasn’t my best text, but it was casual, short, and sweet. My brain was fried after today. An old movie and Ugly Quilt were calling my name.
Date Three: Hoops and Hearts
Sure, I went to a school that was predominantly known for its basketball status in the world of college athletics. It wasn’t lost on me that it was a part of the highest echelon and had created arguably one of the most elite programs in the country. However, I just wasn’t into sports.
I had turned down tickets to Carolina basketball games for four years. I never participated in the lottery drawings, or camped out for hours before a game just to sit behind the basket. So why didn’t I hesitate for even a second when Beau asked me to go with him?
Fans donned from head to toe in light blue filtered past me. I sidestepped a dad who had his little girl perched on his shoulder. Why did they make cheerleading outfits for people who weren’t two feet tall yet? Ok, she was cute with the matching pom-poms. I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place at the Dean Dome. He had told me to meet him outside the basketball museum.
This date was going to tie in perfectly with the last episode of Love Match. Victoria and the bachelors went to a San Antonio Spurs practice and failed miserably at team drills. The guy who scored the most points in the game of three-on-three won a ticket with Victoria to go to that night’s game. I wasn’t sure why the producers thought a spor
ting event would be romantic. After the buzzer sounded, the bachelorette and her date wandered the borders of the San Antonio Riverwalk and tasted every type of tequila they could sample. I was glad Beau and I already had our margarita night—tequila sounded terrible right now.
“London. Hey!” Beau walked up in a short-sleeve T-shirt and jeans. “Ready? We’ve got to get in if we’re going to get halfway decent seats.” He handed me a ticket.
“What do you mean? Don’t we have seats?” He was already jogging ahead of me, slipping past the older fans taking their time with the steps.
He stopped in his tracks to look at me. “Haven’t you been to a game before?”
I thought about lying, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull off that act tonight. “No. First one.” I smiled brightly.
“Good God, girl. Ok, come on.” He pulled on my elbow and guided me up the staircase. He launched into a quick rundown of the student seating system. “We have tickets, but they aren’t assigned. The student sections are first come, first serve. If we get here too late, we’ll end up in the rafters. Now that I know this is your first game, we are not sitting in the nosebleed section.”
I was nervous. Sitting in the rafters sounded terrible. I had a quick flash of the rock climbing wall.
After the event staff at the front door scanned our tickets, Beau took off running, pulling me with him. It seemed completely natural that my hand was locked in his. I could hear the horn section of the band and we funneled down the stairs taking us to the lowest level of the dome.
A man in a yellow T-shirt with an overbearing mustache held up his hand. “Sorry, folks. This section is full. You need to go up there.” He pointed toward the upper level.
I bit my lower lip—I wasn’t sure how high the seats were that he wanted us to sit in, but I didn’t think my stomach or my sweaty palms could handle it.
Beau turned to me. “Give me a sec.”
He slung his arm around the staffer’s shoulder and cupped his hand over his mouth while he talked into the man’s ear. The guy looked at me and then smiled. He nodded at Beau.
“I think I miscounted down here. Yep. Two more spots on the other end. Walk around. Enjoy the game.” He patted Beau on the back and climbed a few more rows behind us to help an alumna with her armrest.
Beau took my hand in his warm palm, a gesture that I was starting to like, and lead me to the other side of the student section. We squeezed next to a student whose chest was covered by a painted U. I noticed the boys next to him had painted torsos as well. A big N and C had been drawn on their chests.
“What did you say to Mustache Man to get him to let us sit here?” I leaned toward Beau’s ear so, hopefully, the lettered fans next to me wouldn’t hear.
“Secret. I can’t you tell you that.” He flashed a smile. “Like the seats?”
I wasn’t going to prod him anymore. I looked around. We were in the heart of the Dean Dome. From my seat, I could see every muscle flinching on the players as they warmed up on the court, the coaches’ scribbling on their clipboards, and the comic movements of Rameses—who was headed our way.
I pulled out my phone. “Would you take my picture? It’s on the list.”
Beau tilted his head sideways. “You’re marking things off my list for your list?”
“Yes. Quick, take it before I don’t have another chance.” I tugged on the snuggly ram’s arm as he approached my seat. He wrapped his big matted hoof around my shoulder and shot Beau a number one.
“Hold on, Rameses.” Beau tapped the screen on my phone and jumped on the other side of the mascot. He extended his long arm and clicked a picture of all three of us. “This will look great on the blog.”
“Thanks, Rameses.” I hugged the big mascot before he was tugged in a different direction by another fan. I looked at the picture on my phone. It was the first picture I had of Beau, and I had to keep myself from blushing. He looked cute. We looked cute together, even if there was a big stuffed ram between us.
The buzzer rang out through the building. It was game time. Beau started jumping up and down next to me, and I noticed all of the students looked like bouncing popcorn.
“Come on, jump, London. Jump around.” He laughed and started bouncing out of control.
It was contagious. I became a jumping bean, mimicking the frenetic energy of the students in our section. I smiled at Beau. This was fun.
“What did you think of your first Carolina basketball game?” Beau and I walked into the crisp February night. I was actually hot after all the jumping and dancing. The air felt good.
“We won. It was awesome.”
“And why was that your first game?”
“I was asking myself the same thing. I feel like I probably missed out on something for four years. That was so much fun. Thanks for taking me.”
“At least you’re not a basketball virgin anymore.”
Good thing my cheeks were already flushed from the cheering frenzy, or hearing Beau mention virginity, even in a sports context, would certainly make me blush. Why was my mind even going there?
“What do you want to do now?” he asked over the roaring hum of the buses parked in front of the sidewalk. We had made our way to the bottom of the stairs and there was a long line of fans waiting to board the buses.
“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to do anything else.” He caught me off guard. Was this a continuation of the fake date? I was having a hard time distinguishing between the project and us just being ourselves.
“Right. No. Never mind. You probably have plans. I’ll catch you in class next week.” He was backpedaling in front of my eyes.
“Wait. I don’t have plans. Let’s do something.”
“Yeah?” He was smiling.
“Yes. But can we go somewhere a little warmer? I’m starting to freeze again.”
He laughed. “All right, movie star. Let’s get you warmed up.”
I liked how he said that. I felt warmer already.
I stood behind Beau at the Caffe Driade counter. I insisted on buying my tea. These were supposed to be fake dates, but so far Beau had bought wine, margaritas, and snagged an extra game ticket for me. I had to pull my weight in this nonexistent relationship.
“I’ll grab us a table.” He was holding an oversized mug. I giggled when I saw the heart-shaped foam swirled on top of his coffee. The redhead behind the counter watched him walk away.
I ordered my decaf triple berry tea, paid, and slid into the seat across from Beau.
“Don’t you drink coffee?” Beau’s upper lip was coated with part of the foam heart.
“Hold on. You have a little something.” I reached over and let the top of my thumb graze his full lips. Under my touch they felt firm and suddenly, very kissable. I realized my cheeks were burning. No doubt, the barista was taking this all in. She hadn’t stopped staring at Beau.
“Thanks.” He reached for a napkin. “How’s your tea?”
Embarrassed I had moved into his personal space, I tried to talk my way into distraction. “Good. I love berry tea.” Ugh. Not the most riveting comments. I took a cautious sip.
“Tell me something about London James, actress and basketball novice.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Where are you from? Do you have parents?”
I laughed. Beau was good at breaking the ice. “Yes, I have parents. They live in Asheville, in the same house I grew up in.”
“That’s a cool place to grow up.”
“I guess so. I hadn’t really thought about it like that. I’m not a fan of the snow or winter in general, so I’ve made plans for as long as I can remember to head somewhere warmer.”
“Is that why you are so determined to move to L.A.? You are running from snowflakes?”
“I’m not running from anything. I told you I want to be an actress. I am an actress.”
Beau raised his hands in defense. “I’m just teasing you, London. I know L.A. is important to you.” He sipped his coffee, car
eful to avoid the foam mustache this time. “What do your parents say about all of it? Are they ok with you moving across the country?”
I sighed. “No. They are definitely not ok with it, but we have an agreement. As long as I graduate with As, I can go and do anything I want. They said they’ll support me for the first six months, and then I’m on my own. I either come back home to Asheville or I pay my way in California.”
“Hmm.” Beau looked like he was working through a calculus problem.
“What? You don’t approve?”
“No. That’s not it. I think it’s awesome you’re going to do what you want. But now, I get your need to have all As all the time. It makes more sense. You make a lot more sense.”
“Thanks. I think.” I wasn’t sure what ideas Beau was forming about me.
“It’s good. Too many people have to give up their dreams.”
I couldn’t blame alcohol since all I had at the game was a Coke and now I was sipping on a berry tea, but the question popped out of my mouth. “Like you?”
He looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“Do you really want to go to law school and follow in your mother’s footsteps?”
“Sure. Why not?”
I was crossing a line, but I didn’t want to retreat. “You aren’t the lawyer type.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re too adventurous, Beau, to be stuck behind a desk or in meetings all day. You would die from boredom taking depositions and arguing in a courtroom. Ok, you are good at arguing, but you would get tired of it.”
His laugh resonated around the coffeehouse. I didn’t like the attention we were getting from the other coffee drinkers and that darn barista.
“For someone I’m fake dating, you sure seem to think you know a lot about who I am and what I need or want.”
I contained an impulse to gulp. Want? Could he see that I all I wanted right now was to taste those lips? He leaned toward me and his eyes blazed right through me, making my knees go weak. He was right. I did think I knew him, and everything about his plan after graduation didn’t feel right. He was right about something else too—I wasn’t his girlfriend. Hearing him say it made me want part of it to be different.