Fake Boobs

by Ryan Ringbloom

  “The pilot thing didn’t impress you?” he chuckled. “I usually get at least some reaction when I mention it.”

  “Sorry. It’s awesome. That’s great.” I placed my coffee down on one of his end tables. “I think I’m just nervous about what you want to talk to me about.”

  He sat back on the couch, his hands tensed resting on his thighs. “Yeah, we need to talk.” We both squirmed uncomfortably. “First of all, the things you said to me both times I found you in,” he scratched his forehead, “not the most ideal situations, were a little upsetting. Both times you seemed to be wrapped up in wanting to do things, just to do them. Then all those comments you made about your looks and no one noticing you. I know I’m not your brother, and you asked me not to say anything to him. But if I had a little sister I’d be making sure she was okay and understood what types of situations to stay away from.”

  I was getting a second big brother talking-to, only this one was going to be a little more thorough, because of what Grant had actually witnessed.

  “Jim talked to me. He told me all about how ugly girls like me get taken advantage of and I need to be careful. Don’t worry, he did his big brother duty.”

  “Okay, that’s another thing. What is with this ugly label you keep giving yourself? I know Jim didn’t say ugly, so where is this coming from?”

  Was he serious? Where did he think the ugly label was coming from? “Look at my face, Grant. Look at my body. That’s where it came from.”

  Grant didn’t look at me. He covered his face, his eyes, everything so he couldn’t see me. “You are a very attractive girl, Tori,” he said, muffled against his hands.

  This was uncomfortable. He couldn’t even say it while looking at me. I wanted to go home before I did something stupid like cry. I stood up from the couch. “All right, thank you. That was all I needed to hear. Um, I’m attractive, not ugly. I will be careful and I will stay away from not ideal situations. Thank you for the talk.”

  “Sit down, please.” Grant pulled his hands away from his face and looked up at me. “This was not how I planned on spending my last week of summer.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about saving Jim’s little sister from promiscuous occurrences and trying to convince her that she’s good looking without sounding like some big perv.”

  “Why would that make you sound like a perv?” I sat back down.

  “Because I have known you since you were like, what? Eight? Nine? It just feels wrong telling you that you’re pretty or that your eyes have a soft honey hue to them. Or that you have a really nice body.” His hand reached up and he covered his face again.

  It was lies. It was forced, but my cheeks flushed anyway. “Thank you,” I said softly. Even if his sentiment wasn’t real, mine was. False or not, it felt good to hear someone say those things.

  “So, when you go to school, I want you to have some confidence. No more nights with guys like Kyle or Enzo. Got it?”

  I laughed. “His name was Jake.”

  “Whatever.” Grant shrugged, laughing with me.

  “I think I’ll be okay. I just wanted to…” I stopped. I don’t know where I was going with that sentence. Grant definitely didn’t need to know any more of my internal struggles. Telling him I wished I was leaving for college with a little experience under my belt or any experience for that matter was a little too much information.

  “Wanted to…what?”

  “I wanted to say thank you again.”

  He gave me a smile, but I think he knew that wasn’t what I was going to say.

  My coffee was mostly filled. It would probably still be warm by the time he took me home. It was such a quick talk; I felt bad he had to drive all the way back to my house, just for that.

  Grant sipped his coffee and blew out a long stream of air. “If you want, we can hang out a little bit. I don’t know if you have plans, but the guys are all gone and I’m probably going to spend the next few nights enjoying a little binge television.” He picked up a remote and clicked on the TV. “I’ve got Netflix. You in?”

  Really? He was inviting me to stay.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. I was definitely in.

  We picked a show neither of us had even heard of before, but looked really good. And it was. Action packed, the show had us hooked within the first few minutes. There were no commercial breaks. No commercials meant he didn’t need to talk to me. We could sit and watch an episode and then he’d take me home.

  Ten minutes in, Grant paused the show. “So, what are you studying? What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “I always wanted to be a teacher,” I answered shyly. No one ever asked about me. The expression on his face made it seem like he was genuinely interested.

  “That’s great. I’m sure one day the kids will all think Miss Albert is their favorite teacher.” Grant tipped up his coffee cup up to his lips and finished it looking away from me. He unpaused the show and rubbed a hand over his head. His dark hair was short and stayed in place. I tried not to stare at him, but each time I looked over, I noticed more of his handsome features. I’d seem him a million times, but it was hard not to look at him differently, sitting by ourselves on his couch.

  The first show ended; we’d chatted on and off throughout it. It was nice, I wondered if I’d be asked to stay for a second episode or if that was it.

  I stayed for four.

  Chapter Eight

  Grant and I sat silently watching the final episode of the show we’d chosen to watch a week ago. We were down to the last ten minutes and I wished I could stop time.

  Every night, I went over to Grant’s little mansion-side apartment and tuned in for the next episodes of the show we’d started. We’d watch, but each night we spent more time talking and less time watching. Sometimes Grant even muted the show so we could focus on the conversations we were having.

  He was smart. He was fun. And every time we saw each other, there was a new amazing detail on his face or body that I seemed to take notice of. Toned arms, long lashes over eyes that changed color with his mood and when he tilted his head back while laughing, underneath his chin was the most adorable hidden freckle. I began to love that freckle.

  He made me comfortable. I didn’t cower from conversations and interactions with him like I usually did. I was front and center, one on one, talking with someone who genuinely seemed to care.

  Not shockingly, I developed a crush on him. I never truly had one before. Sure, I thought guys were cute and wished for attention, but there was never that one guy who took precedent in my mind, making me unable to concentrate.

  Now, there I was, walking in the clouds.

  Almost every thought that entered my mind was Grant. I didn’t know what I was going to do when the show we were watching ended, or worse, when I left for school and wouldn’t get to see him again.

  It was after the third night in a row of binge television, I knew I needed to walk away before I was pulled in any deeper. My feelings were only growing stronger. It would only get worse. But frickin’ season two was right there asking if we wanted to continue watching.

  Grant pointed out that we couldn’t watch season one and not watch season two. It made perfect sense. It also meant at least three more nights together sitting side by side on the couch. Three more nights for me to fall deeper. Every time he spoke, it was like water and sunshine helping those feelings grow roots.

  The second season finale ended with a heart-pounding moment leaving us both gasping in disbelief.

  “Wow,” I said, shocked by the last minute twist.

  He nodded, staring at the rolling credits.

  The show was over. It was the end. My chest ached.

  “Too bad there isn’t a season three. I’d have to put off going to school,” I joked and we both laughed. An uneasy silence followed our laughter. Whatever this weird week we just had was, it was over.

  Grant cracked his knuckles and I stood and stretched. I hated tha
t this was it, but really, it was for the best. This week I’d carelessly grown attached to him. It was silly. Nothing even happened. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be hard to get over. By this time next week, I would be in school and meeting new people. Who knew? Maybe I’d have a brand new crush.

  “Okay, I guess I should go.” I picked my keys up off the table.

  Grant didn’t say anything. He looked lost in thought. The crazy ending of the show probably still had his mind reeling. I waited for a few seconds; all week he’d been walking me to the door. Tonight, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Bye. Thank you,” I said from the door.

  He finally stood up from the couch and walked over. “Thank you for coming over.”

  “I know it must have sucked having all your friends go back and getting stuck with me, but I had a great time. Funny, right?” I felt my cheeks heat up. “Please don’t make fun of me, but I’m gonna miss you.”

  We were standing so close in his tiny doorway, our bodies practically touching. I worked very hard to control my breathing, but whatever I was doing wasn’t working. I could hear it coming out in loud, uncontrolled puffs.

  “I’ll miss you, too.” His voice deepened. My knees weakened and for some reason, I couldn’t focus on anything but his full red lips.

  “I’ll be careful at school. I promise.” I swallowed and bit my lip, still zeroed in on his.

  “Good. I’m glad. You’ll need to be very careful. Don’t make a mistake.” He swiped his hand over his mouth and sighed into it. His head tipped back against the frame and I got a peek at the freckle. “No matter how much you want to, you can’t. The timing, the age thing, the history, it’s wrong. You can’t.”

  The last part of his statement made no sense, but the spell I was under…I blamed my hearing for the confusing words. We were so close. I couldn’t think straight. Then he leaned in closer. His fingertips grazed the side of my face twisting it to the side and his lips landed on my cheek.

  Chills coursed through me. Shivers. His lips lingered longer than a normal kiss on the cheek should last. I closed my eyes and turned my head craving more. My lips gently connected with his. Instinctively, I stood up on my toes, reaching up to place my hands on his shoulders.

  Grant backed away. His reaction was immediate. My lips were left puckered and I quickly pulled them in and sunk back down to flat feet.

  “I’m sorry.” I stepped out of the doorway, backing up toward my car. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “No, that was my fault. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” He followed me the few steps. “That was stupid of me. I wanted to say goodbye and I didn’t mean for it to turn into anything more than it should have been. That was wrong.”

  “Was it me? I know it was only two seconds, but did I do it wrong?” I waited while his face took on a look of horror.

  “Wrong? You mean the kiss? Was that…,” His fists clenched at his sides and he paced in the driveway. “No. No. No. I did not mean to do that.”

  The way he was reacting was not good. Not good at all. It was only a two-second kiss and he completely regretted it.

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t even a kiss. It was just a peck. And it was me who moved my head. So, really, it was all my fault.” I swung the car door open and sank into my seat, slamming the door shut. My shaky hands stuck the key in the ignition and turned bringing the car to life. He knocked on the glass before I was able to shift the car into reverse. I rolled down the window but kept my eyes focused on the steering wheel.

  “This isn’t how I want you to go. Everything that happened in these last two minutes has been my fault. We’re friends and I don’t want to confuse that.” His hands gripped the side of my car.

  “Okay.”

  His stretched knuckles turned white. “You, the kiss, it was great. You did everything perfectly. I didn’t mean to act like an ass.”

  “Okay,” I said again. It was all I was capable of saying. This conversation was only making things more confusing, not less.

  “When you come home for Thanksgiving, maybe I’ll see you again.”

  “Thanksgiving? Okay.” That was months away. He didn’t want to keep in touch? Phone, emails, texts…and we were leaving it with hope to see you in a few months. I forced a smile. “Good luck in school.”

  “Tori, I really wish,” He paused. I snuck a glance in his direction and saw him look down at the ground shaking his head. I had no idea how to read him, how to make sense of this whole weird ending to what I thought was such an amazing week.

  “What do you wish, Grant?”

  “I wish…I wish there was a season three.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Your eyebrows are really thick. I guess you don’t wax or pluck or anything.”

  My beautiful new roommate, Kenna, was extremely blunt. I learned that pretty damn quickly.

  “Should I?” I asked, looking into the mirror that hung on the back of our door.

  “Well, maybe. Bushy eyebrows are kind of gross. It makes guys think things like, bushy eyebrows, bushy everything. Ya know what I’m saying?” She looked down at my shorts, and even though I wasn’t exposed, I covered myself.

  “I can pluck.” I rummaged through my make-up bag looking for tweezers. When I found them, I held them up to show Kenna, leaned in toward the mirror, took hold of a hair and yanked. Holy mother of God! “Owwww! Is it supposed to hurt like this?” I rubbed my fingers hard against the sore red spot above my eye.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kenna looked stunned. “You just thought you’d go in and start plucking random hairs? You need a plan. Did you have a plan? I don’t think you did.” She walked over and removed the tweezers from my hand. “I think a good plan for you is to go to the nail place around the corner and get them waxed. It’s only like six bucks and they do a good job.”

  Kenna knew her stuff when it came to beauty. Her vast supply of make-up products put mine to shame. She was way more skilled at applying them than I was, even though I was hardly even using mine anymore. It was just classes and studying for me. When school started, I went back to the shadows and stayed away from the party scene. The last thing I wanted was to spend the night standing next to Kenna. If I thought I was the plain one back home, here I’d be flat out nonexistent.

  Kenna’s body was perfect, endless curves and the perfect wardrobe to accentuate every single one of them. We would never be sharing clothes. That was for sure. I totally snooped through her drawers one night while she was out. Her bra size was 36D!

  “My boyfriend Cody is coming up this weekend,” Kenna announced, pulling down one eye to pencil in a perfect line on her eyelid. “Don’t mention anything about that other guy I told you about from the other night.”

  “Why don’t you just break up with him?” I lined up the books on my desk that I needed to study. Once Kenna was out for the night, I planned to get right to work.

  “Because he’s like the greatest guy. And I love him.” She sighed and went to work on the other eye. “But he’s at home. I’m here. I want to have fun. Ya know? I’m young. I’m in college. So, while I’m here, I’m just gonna do my own thing and when I go home, I’ll be with him, and after I graduate, we’ll get married.”

  Her fabulous life was all planned out. Great guy at home, whoever she wanted here, and after all her fun, she’d graduate, get married and live happily ever after without even batting one of her strategically placed false eyelashes. Meanwhile, my eyebrow still hurt from trying to pluck one hair and the crush on the guy back home, the one I thought I’d get over right away. I never did. If possible, I was thinking about him more than ever.

  For some stupid reason, I built up my hopes that Grant might have remembered my birthday last week and sent me a text or something. He didn’t have my number, but it wouldn’t have been hard to get if he wanted it. Okay, I needed to get over this already. We talked about it one night when we hung out, but just because I remembered that he told me his birthday was July sixteenth,
did not mean that he remembered that mine was October sixteenth.

  Kenna left for her night of fun and I hit the books. I stopped around midnight and checked my email. The only people who had my email were my parents, but I ordered a book on Amazon and I wanted to see if it shipped yet.

  The book had shipped and I had an email from my mom. The subject line was Thanksgiving.

  Tori-

  Aunt Irene told me back in August that she and Uncle Ted would not be coming to Thanksgiving this year, then today she tells me they are coming and they’re bringing your cousin Ethan and his girlfriend. The count is now up to twenty people! I have no idea how we are going to fit twenty people. I tried calling you before but you didn’t answer your phone. Do you think I should do two separate tables or push two tables together and have one big long one? Is it insulting if I put you, Jim and your cousins at your own table? Plus Jeanie will be here this year and Jim asked if one of his friends could come too. That’s it - I think I’m doing two tables.

  Mom

  If my mom could rant like that in an email when Thanksgiving was still a month away, I was scared for what she would do if I talked to her in person. I skimmed over the email again, re-reading the last part of Jim having a friend come this year. My stomach dropped. What friend? A friend from home? A friend from school? Shoot, I wished I had picked up the phone.

  It was too late to call my mom, but not too late to text my brother. I reached for my phone and typed.

  Tori: I just got an email from Mom freaking out about Thanksgiving. LOL. Which friend did you invite?

  Jim: Kyle.

  My lungs deflated. Damn. Not the friend I’d been hoping.

  Jim: Hey, listen I’m really sorry. I was going to call you tomorrow. I’m sorry I missed your birthday. I can’t believe I forgot.

  Tori: No big deal. Did Mom remind you?

  Jim: No, actually, I was talking with Grant and he said something.