The Boyfriend List

by Novelle, R. S.

  It was almost too much to deal with at once. But Reagan was strong, and a master at categorizing her issues to keep them separate, which had no doubt served her well in the past. And she’d utilize the skill as best as she could to get through the day. But there was something different about this time, something that had left her uneasy and exhausted and just unwilling to deal any longer. She wasn’t sure what to chalk it up to – surely not the tequila this time – but she knew she was going to have to figure it out sooner rather than later.

  This was going to be a long day, Reagan decided as she made her way into the kitchen to search for ginger ale and crackers.

  Disheveled though she looked, Reagan made it to her first class on time, though barely, and spotted Ian in his usual seat. Fully occupied with his phone, he hadn’t glanced up when she entered the room along with all the other students who were quickly filing in last minute. But she’d expected as much, his popularity was daunting, and he’d spent the evening before chilling with her instead of catching up with all the rest in his circle. If he came unglued to that phone any time during the course of the week, she’d be surprised.

  Fortunately for her, he’d at least thought to save her a seat next to him, and she made her way over to the desk that was decorated with his bag. Looking around, she noticed she wasn’t the only one who appeared exhausted and hung-over, she thought with a satisfied smirk as all the zombie-like students began to quickly fill the seats in the large, auditorium style classroom. She slipped into the chair and returned the warm smile Ian had flashed at her as he put down his phone and moved his bag out of her way. For an instant, she forgot the dark circles under her tired eyes, the queasy sensation that was still wrestling around in her stomach and the myriad of regrettable events that had lead her to that position. Somehow, with just one dimple-filled smile, Ian had managed to erase all that, and make her feel like the most beautiful person in the room. If only she could’ve bottled up that feeling to pull out again whenever it began to wear off...

  “Good morning, Sunshine. How’s the head feeling?”

  Reagan managed a polite groan before putting her head on the desk. “Wake me up when this is over.” She pleaded. Instead of agreeing to her request, however, he pulled a red Gatorade from his bag and placed it, along with two aspirins and a toasted everything bagel, on the desk beside her. A thankful smile escaped her. “You’re awesome. How’d you know?”

  “I saw the dent you put in that tequila bottle, remember?” His words rolled out on a laugh.

  “For the record, it wasn’t all me. Petra helped.” Then Reagan scrunched up her face as she swallowed the pills and reconsidered. “Some. I think.”

  After she’d successfully gotten the pills down and had enjoyed her first couple bites of bagel in peace, he deemed it safe enough to hit her with the latest development in the ongoing story that had become her very public breakup. “You should probably know the breakup story’s out everywhere. And whoever this chick is, which no one really seems to know, she has some weird, jealous vendetta against you.”

  “Me?” Reagan’s voice squeaked from her throat. “She slept with my boyfriend, shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  But Ian merely shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess.”

  “What does that even mean?” Reagan questioned rhetorically before taking another bite of bagel. “And why do people even care what goes on in my relationships anyway? I’m no one special on this campus.”

  Even as the words were escaping her lips, she noticed the incredulous look Ian was casting her way. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Your realize that right?”

  It was Reagan’s turn to shrug.

  “Well, I’ve heard it from four different people already,” Ian continued, “so I’d lay low for a while if I were you. Just give it some time and it’ll all pass. ”

  “Great.” Was her non-committal answer. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t entertained accosting the bitch, but she was such a non-confrontational person that the idea was dismissed as quickly as it had been contemplated.

  As the hands ticked closer to the nine o’clock hour, and class was about to begin, Ian occupied himself by dragging notepads and pens out of his bag. His hands were full when his phone, set to silent, began buzzing on top of his desk. Seeing as how her headache hadn’t quite subsided just yet, the noise was annoying the living hell out of Reagan, who took the liberty of picking it up – despite Ian’s mild objections – just to get it to stop.

  But her finger slipped, and she inadvertently answered the call instead. Ian’s face went white as Reagan fumbled, unsure of what to do next. Finally, she decided the polite thing would be to answer the phone and maybe take a message since Ian hadn’t appeared to be interested in taking the call himself. The moment she did, and she heard a syrupy voice filled with anger flowing from the other end, she wished she’d just hung up after all.

  “Who is this?” The girl demanded of her.

  However, knowing how to deal with the dilemma of an aggravated female caller, one who clearly thought she had more exclusivity with Ian than perhaps she really did, was only the beginning of the issue. The real issue dawned unexpectedly as Reagan tuned in to the candy-coated, ultra feminine tone that oozed over the line. She’d known from day one that Ian was a pathological flirt, she’d met several of his short-term girlfriends over the years and had even coached him in selecting birthday and Valentine’s Day gifts that were appropriate to the relationship. There was no getting around that fact, so to hear a female caller on the other end shouldn’t have been any particular surprise.

  But all those times in all those instances, she’d known her friendship with Ian had always come first. His time with the girls would be short lived, a fact they were just as clear on and therefore hadn’t mind sharing their time with him. They’d never been demanding, bitchy or insecure directly to her – maybe because he’d always protected her from it, or maybe because they’d never been around long enough to display those traits. It was difficult to tell. Whatever the case, this girl sounded different. Reagan could tell by her tone that she was clingy, and demanding to a fault. There would be issues of jealousy almost right away, and for the first time in the history of their friendship, she was feeing the brunt of it.

  “Excuse me?” To say it was a feeling she didn’t much care for was an understatement.

  “Never mind. Where’s Ian?”

  Not that it was really any of Reagan’s business, but under the guise of appearing helpful…“Who is this?” She inquired after she’d managed to untwist her tongue and find her voice a few seconds later.

  “Tell him it’s Isabella.” The girl purred. “He’ll remember me from last Saturday night at Mojitos.” Her tone reflected all the innuendoes Reagan knew to be associated with the cubbyhole of a dance club tucked away on the corner of Main and 3rd, and already Reagan felt she had a good picture of the type of girl Isabella was.

  She glanced at Ian, who appeared clueless. “Isabella from Mojito’s?” Reagan repeated, then enjoyed the sudden flush of panic that ran over Ian’s face as his eyebrows hitched up in curiosity. She placed a hand over the speaker and swiveled in her seat to face him. In a voice dripping with mockery she addressed him again. “Are you available for Isabella, Romeo?”

  He rolled his blue eyes and reached for the phone. Reagan was disappointed. Really disappointed. She snatched it away again just before he could take it. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy this this kind of attention.”

  Ian had caught that same look in Reagan’s eyes a dozen times, but had never recognized it until now. She was jealous. Who’d have guessed? He wondered if she even realized it herself. The corners of his mouth turned up in an evil grin. “And what if I do?”

  “Here. Be quick, class is about to begin.” Reagan spat out the words and tossed him the phone as she turned back around, trying to block out the pleasant sound of Ian’s voice as he carried on a more-than–friendly conversation with his new friend.<
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  Disheartened even more than she’d initially been when she woke up that morning – if that was even possible - she sent Petra a quick text, hoping that her friend was awake. It’s not like she’d be able to focus on this class now anyway.

  Ready to begin Operation Checklist?

  Within a second, she got an enthusiastic reply: Absolutely!

  Reagan smiled, and slid down into her seat just as the lecture began.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Wednesday

  There seemed to be some universal rule in place that when you go looking for something, you never find it. But the moment you stop looking, it appears... and stares you right in the face as though you were stupid for not seeing it to begin with. Reagan, apparently, hadn’t learned the depth of that rule yet. She and Petra had spent all day Tuesday combing the campus for eligible men, interviewing them as though they were participating in a research study for class. And while it’d suited Petra’s ego just fine, as they’d both come home with a wealth of new date offers, it had left Reagan feeling even more hopeless than when they had started. Within just a few minutes of conversation with each of the guys, she’d racked up enough big, fat, red x’s on her checklist to know they weren’t someone she was interested in pursuing.

  Forcing herself to look at the positive side, she decided that while she hadn’t found her Mr. Perfect just yet, she had successfully narrowed down her options. Quickly. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea after all, she considered. It’d proven to be a great distraction, if nothing else.

  But after all the talking and interviewing and discussing she’d been doing that week, Reagan decided what she really needed – even more than a good boyfriend - was a little quiet time alone. She’d managed to find that solace on Wednesday at one of the many picnic benches the campus was sprinkled with, and as she closed her eyes, tuning in to the sounds of nature, she could almost – almost – forget about everything else that’d been weighing on her mind.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to last. Petra had found her between classes and insisted on joining her for lunch. “Look what I have for you!” She chirped from behind, startling Reagan from her thoughts. In one hand, her friend was holding a brown bag containing a fast food salad with unappetizing light dressing. In the other hand was a pile of white papers, a few with the trademark red x on the front. Not sure which one she was hoping against the least, Reagan bit her lip, a quizzical expression working it’s way into her brow as she waited for Petra to deliver the verdict.

  Thankfully – or not – Petra handed her the stack of red marked papers.

  “What’s this?” She inquired as she began thumbing through them, though she was certain she already knew the answer.

  “Six more guys at this school you can rule out as definitely not being your soul mate.”

  Reagan glanced through the handwritten version of her checklist, her hope sinking just a little bit further as she sighed. “Ugh, a lot of no’s, huh?” Petra made a face in disgust as she took her first bite of leafy greens. Reagan wasn’t sure if the look was meant toward her statement, or her friend’s tasteless salad. “How do you have time for this?”

  But Petra merely shrugged as she sipped from a plastic water bottle. “I don’t know. Guys come up to me. I ask questions. I mark their answers.” She tilted her head as she considered the simplicity of her system. “Seems to work pretty well actually.”

  “You had six guys hit on you already today?”

  Petra opened her mouth to answer Reagan’s incredulous statement, but before she could get her comment out, another friend had joined them.

  “What’s that?” Ian asked as he took a seat beside Reagan, indicating the papers in her hand. He was carrying two little bags filled with oriental food boxes. One was clearly for him, while the other he sat down in front of Reagan.

  “What’s this?” Reagan countered excitedly, using the opportunity to successfully dodge his question.

  “The best fried rice this city can make. I promise.” The wink he offered elicited a smile from her lips.

  “Thanks.” Her eyes lit up to match the enthusiasm of her voice. “But, how’d you know where I was?”

  Saying nothing, Ian merely looked at Petra, who smiled innocently across the table at them. It was a sly move on her friend’s part, she’d give her that much. Shaking her head – at them both – she opened the bag and drew out the small boxes that were packed to every possible inch. As she twirled her chopsticks around delicious looking noodles and popped it into her mouth, Ian used her incapacitated ability to return to his previous question. “So what is this anyway?”

  Nearly choking on Chinese food, she swallowed quickly and tucked the papers out of sight into her notebook, where they were stuffed carelessly next to the others she’d been collecting. Then, holding her notebook protectively in her lap with her left hand guarding it closely, she picked up her fork, dove into the rice and finally replied, “Nothing.”

  “That didn’t look suspicious or anything.” Petra rolled her eyes before turning her focus on Ian. “It’s a checklist.” She began, but was quickly cut off.

  “For Petra’s report.” Reagan was glaring across the table at her friend. “Nothing important really, she just wanted me to look it over. You know how I am about lists.” She tried to laugh off the statement, but it was obvious from the other expressions sitting around the table that her tactic hadn’t worked.

  “Uh-huh.” Ian was willing to let it appear as though he were letting the comment go. But at the first opportunity, he snatched the notebook out of her hand. “I also know how you are about lying.” He said as he slid to the furthest point on the bench to investigate his curiosity for himself. “You’re horrible at it, by the way.” Shooting her a sideways glance, he opened the book on her objection.

  “See what you started.” Reagan sighed as she addressed Petra, who looked as though she was entirely too amused by the transaction. But there was nothing that could be done, until the inevitable confused expression crossed Ian’s face. Which was about to happen right about...

  “What kind of checklist is this?”

  She felt her face flush with anxious embarrassment as she watched him flipping through the pages. Snatching the book back from him before he could get to the one with his own name scribbled across the top, she tucked the notebook into her bag and placed it on the ground safely away from another arrest.

  “So how’s Isabella?” Reagan teased in an attempt to change the subject. “Hear from her lately?”

  “Nice.” Was his only comment on the subject, though his mood seemed to have darkened a little.

  Tired of watching the two sulk in awkward silence, Petra took the matter into her own hands – again. “They’re checklists of people, dummy.” She shot at Ian, whose head immediately popped up with renewed interest.

  “Petra.” Reagan’s wide-eyed look was one of sheer panic.

  “I can see that.” Ian was looking from one girl to the next, his curiosity rising. “Why do they have a bunch of guys names on them?”

  “Because Reagan is looking for her soul mate and we’re using this to narrow down the candidates.” The comment was as blunt as it was factual.

  “Petra.” Reagan had begun motioning with her hand for her friend to stop, making it even more obvious to Ian that the ridiculous comments Petra was making could be correct. He smiled at the concept a little, and chuckled at Reagan’s efforts to keep her stubborn friend silent.

  But Petra, having no intention of stopping, ignored her and kept going. “She was inspired by this random guy we met at Blue Nickel yesterday, and she thinks this will keep her little heart from getting crushed by yet another loser like Justin.”

  “Really?” Clearly amused, he plunged his chopsticks into his food.

  “Petra!”

  “Well, it needed to be out in the open.” Petra argued against Reagan’s look of sheer horror. “Now it is, and we can move on with life. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you.” She fini
shed, suddenly bursting to tell her exciting news as the two thoughts ran together.

  But Reagan wasn’t paying attention any longer. All she could focus on was Ian. He didn’t look mad, or upset, or even as if he thought she was crazy – which, for the record, she was starting to believe about herself. He was just there, sitting next to her. Like he always had been. So why did it feel like she was doing something wrong all of a sudden? Why did she feel like there was a friction between them now?

  “Derek called me last night.” Petra continued without acknowledgment. “He’s coming to my birthday party, which is this Saturday remember? Please don’t forget.”

  “How could I?” Reagan finally turned her way, sulking just a little. “You only mention it on a daily basis.”

  “Don’t do that.” Petra put her finger up and wagged it playfully.

  “Do what?”

  “Sulk. Or I won’t give you the new info I have on Brett.”

  Ian immediately looked up from his box. “Brett?”

  “The random guy from the restaurant I mentioned.” Petra quickly answered before turning her attention back to her friend.

  “Why didn’t I hear about him last night?” Ian turned his body so that his torso fully faced Reagan. It wasn’t meant to be an intimidating tactic, yet she still had a problem finding her voice.

  “Why didn’t I hear about Isabella?” She finally countered.

  He seemed to consider this. “Touché’.” He said, blushing just a little before angling his body back toward his food and digging eagerly in again.