The Boyfriend Contract

by Melanie Marks

  Just to keep from attacking him, I pop a fried mango in my mouth.

  Conrad clears his throat. Then he says huskily (it seems), “I was kind of wishing I was Teacher’s-aid David this afternoon.”

  I try blinking out of my daze, cuz I gotta tell you, I’m having mega troubles following this turn in the conversation. “Oh yeah?” I blink, blink, blink. “ … when?”

  “When you came into detention all on a seductive mission—I was wishing I was TA David really bad right then.”

  Sardonically, I point out, “TA David was being hoodwinked.”

  Conrad grins. “Being hoodwinked by you seemed kind of appealing. I was jealous, him getting to study your lips like that.”

  I take a step away from him, very confused. Very wound up. Very wanting to kiss him. I take another step away from him—to be safe. “I’m not used to you flirting with me.”

  “Kinda seems like maybe you should get used to it, January.”

  My heart ricochets off my ribcage. “Um, maybe we should say goodnight—I think finally beating me at MarioKart has made you high.”

  He grins slightly, taking a step away from me, since he’d edged quite close again. (!!) He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Well, something has—but it’s not the game—or Oreos. It’s getting to be with you again.”

  “Oh, you two are still—um, cooking?” Mom asks, coming into the kitchen once again.

  Conrad breaths out a sigh, giving me an amused glance. “No, I was just leaving,” Conrad tells my mom. “It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Runey.”

  Then he’s out the door, and I’m left with my heart pounding wild.

  How much of that mushy-tension was just made up in my mushy love-tortured mind? And how much of it was actually real?

  … was any of it real?

  CHAPTER 54

  Okay, I’m very confused. Very.

  After all of Conrad’s recent flirting and his speeches that kind of elude to maybe there being more than just friendship between us—last night was the topping on the cake.

  But come on, how can I know that what I felt last night wasn’t all in my imagination? And that he really, truly felt the way it seemed?

  I’m really not up on how to read Conrad when it comes to this kind of stuff—especially because I haven’t been around him in almost a whole year, and his behavior towards me has changed so drastically much.

  In the past I’d always been his “best friend.” So, he didn’t treat me like a “girl.” I mean, not the way he normally treated girls; I was thoroughly “friend zoned.”

  But now he’s flirting with me?? Am I really, truly actually out of the friend-zone? Really?

  Or is it that he’s just going through something? Something tragic and traumatic—and dramatic—due to losing his girlfriend in such a horrific way?

  Was he just being out of character with me last night because he’s haunted and hurting and trying to reach out for something that he wouldn’t normally? Something he’ll regret when he’s more himself and healed?

  I don’t want to ruin our friendship over romantic misjudgment again.

  Ugh! I don’t know what to believe.

  Since the beginning of high school, I’ve heard girls say that Conrad is a flirt and player. But he’d never been that way with me—ever. Because I’d always been his “friend.”

  But …

  Last night was my best friend actually “playing” me?

  The thought is bizarre … but so is the thought of him suddenly flirting with me. I mean, at his birthday party he’d made it sound like the thought of me suddenly becoming more than a friend was freakish and squirmy to him, and so far out there he had to dash off to Connecticut without telling me, to get away from my squirrely mushy behavior.

  The memory haunts me.

  I spent all last night tossing and turning and fretting, trying to make a judgment. But I still don’t have a clue what to believe.

  So, finally I turn to Ally, since there is no way I can turn to Paige—not about Conrad. Or any cute guy, actually. I love her, but she’s not exactly level-headed—or sane—when it comes to cute boys.

  Ally however is very sane and level-headed, and she’s got the Grief-Master wrapped around her sweet church-girl finger, so she’s obviously got magical powers when it comes to guys.

  “Hi January,” she says with a big smile when she closes her locker and finds me hovering beside her. “How did your dinner go with Conrad?” she asks, her big smile growing even bigger.

  After I explain to her about our “date” going so well, and all of Conrad’s recent flirting and his speeches that kind of elude to maybe there being more than just friendship between us, I ask her in desperation, “How can I know that what he felt last night wasn’t all in my imagination? And that he really, truly feels the way it seems?”

  “In his kiss,” Ally says, kind of shocking me. “That’s how I knew Griffin really loved me—it was in his kiss.”

  She goes on, “And it let me know how I really felt—if my feelings were real, since I was all nervous and worried to be falling for ‘The Grief-Master.’”

  She explains, “You just have to trust the kiss. The kiss will tell you.”

  CHAPTER 55

  All day I fantasize about kissing Conrad—what it would be like to feel his warm, soft lips on mine. The dreamy thought keeps me in a hazy daze all day, and unable to concentrate on anything else—just his fantasy-inducing lips, and the scrumptious thought of him kissing me with them. Mmmm.

  Finally, I can’t take it any longer. He brought this on himself—with all of his flirting, and saying he was jealous of TA David getting to “study” my lips. If me kissing him ruins everything—well, it’s his fault.

  … at least as much as mine.

  Right?

  Right.

  So, after school, I just decide to do it. Determinedly, I drive to Conrad’s house.

  When he finally answers his front door, he smiles looking surprised, but thrilled (possibly) to see me.

  “January, hi. I was just destroying zombies,” he says, gesturing to his video game that he has on pause. “You wanna—?”

  Before he can finish his sentence, I grab him by the collar and kiss him.

  When I abruptly pull away, he’s breathless and stunned. Meee tooo. I take a wobbly step away from him as he stares at me bewildered and starry-eyed.

  “Okay, go back to enjoying destroying zombies,” I murmur.

  As I hastily try to scramble away from him, his eyebrows quirk. Without a word he quickly puts his hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to him and crashes his mouth on mine, kissing me long and passionate and gooood.

  When he finally pulls away, I’m dizzy and breathless and seeing stars.

  “Okay, go back to enjoying destroying my heart,” he says.

  I freeze at his words and whip back around to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Figure it out, January,” he says softly and gently shuts the door.

  CHAPTER 56

  Okay, I can see why my best friend is known as “The Giver.” That kiss was frickin’ awesome!

  I do a little dance inside my car, tingles still rushing through me. When I feel I can actually drive without crashing into people (due to seeing rainbows and stars), I head for the grocery store, ’cause his kiss told me he’s totally into me—and Ally said I’m supposed to trust his kiss. So, oh-kay!

  Once I’m out of the grocery store with my one single solitary item, I get a text from Conrad. “Was the kiss a ploy to get my sweatshirt back?”

  Ha! I had left it on his doorstep after I didn’t get my job at the convenience store that night, since the sad fail had left me feeling like a loser and once again worried about ending up with cats. (And also, Kale had kept asking me why I was hugging it.)

  I respond: “The kiss was an experiment.”

  “For science class?”

  “Yep. Boring schoolwork.”

  “For chemistry class, right?
Figuring out if we have chemistry?—which that experiment spectacularly showed we do.”

  I know, right? I lean my head against the steering wheel, smiling, smiling, smiling.

  When an absurdly long time passes with me just smiling, and not actually texting back, he texts, “I have something for you.”

  I text him back: “I have something for you too.”

  It’s a huge container of Oreos. I just bought them just now. They were going to be my ploy to get him to my house and do some more “chemistry.” But he seems to have come up with his own ploy. (There’s a lot of ploying going on.) Smile!

  I text him: “Come over to my house in an hour and we’ll trade. BUT don’t get the wrong idea, buddy—me inviting you over—it doesn’t mean I like you or want you to be my boyfriend or anything like that.”

  I tell him this partly in jest, but partly because I can’t shake what he had told Griffin at his birthday party that night. That his once chill ‘gal-pal’ turned everything he said into meaning ‘I want to be your boyfriend.’

  The memory makes me nervous and sort of sick. Still, I try to shake it off. His kiss had seemed to tell me he’s actually totally spectacularly into me. According to Ally, I’m supposed to trust his kiss.

  Conrad playfully texts back: “You just want me to help you with your ‘chemistry,’ right?”

  Then he adds: “Or was I right the first time? You just want my sweatshirt back. I know you secretly miss it and love it.”

  Is he talking about the sweatshirt or him? Is “sweatshirt” code word for him??

  “Nope,” I lie, “I hate your sweatshirt with a fiery passion.”

  Then I add, “But you can bring it if you want … I’m sure it misses me.”

  Conrad answers. “It does.”

  Happiness fills my heart.

  To me, this is going to be our first official date—yet I’m not going to tell him until he gets here. I’ll have him come in, and I’ll act all nonchalant, then at some point (if things go well and seem date-like like they did towards the end of our Ally set-up “date”—if things seem romantic-ish like that, rather than friend-zone-ish, then I’ll spring it on him like he did me—that we’re on a date. Only, I’ll make it official—by us kissing passionately before he leaves.

  The thought gives me excited tingles.

  Yet what I text him is: “You can come to my house, pal. But remember I’m not too enthralled with boys that move out of state without telling me goodbye—in fact, it makes me feel like punishing them.”

  “Um, is this going to get kinky?—how does one dress to be ‘punished?’”

  Heat swamps my cheeks.

  “Just bring the sweatshirt—and chocolate.”

  Actually, lamely, I was just going to have us fry Oreos, since we didn’t get to last night. That was all I had planned for our “date” … since it was only an excuse really to have him come over and test the waters … and hopefully do some ‘chemistry.’ (That was the main thing.) (Squee!)

  … but hey, you can never go wrong with chocolate.

  CHAPTER 57

  Conrad shows up at my house exactly an hour after we started texting. I notice, delightedly, that he’s dressed up, but trying to make it appear he isn’t. But I’ll let you in on a secret: whenever Conrad’s not in a concert T-shirt, he’s “dressed up.” (Only a best friend would know this.) Conrad never wears a button-up unless he wants to impress … but he’s buttoned-up now and smelling tasty. Also, he has an assortment of chocolates with him. So, let the chemistry begin!

  Only … I’m kind of thrown by the other thing he’s brought with him—a guitar.

  So rather than exclaiming what I want to: “Time for another experiment!” I find myself asking: “What’s that about?”

  ‘Cause seriously, What’s that about?

  A guitar??

  He grins instead of answering, “Right now I’m more interested in what that’s about.”

  He gestures at the frilly apron I’m wearing.

  I curtsy, “Oh, this old thing?”

  I just put it on because it’s pretty and kind of went with the home-cooked meal thing he was supposed to get from me yesterday—also, it could go with the plan for us to fry Oreos. But really, I just thought it was pretty. And intriguing. Which apparently it is.

  “I’ll take it off it’s too distracting for you to tell me what your guitar is about.”

  “No don’t do that,” he says with a grin, as though I just threatened him with the worst form of punishment.

  He smiles, then peeks at me almost shyly. “I wrote you a song while I was away.”

  “You did?”

  He nods. “I did.” After a tiny pause, he adds, “It’s no ‘I Want Your Sexy Sex’—but it’s from the heart too.”

  I breathe out a laugh. “Um, I don’t think ‘I Want Your Sexy Sex’ came from the heart. I think it came from a different place.”

  He grins, “Ya think?” He runs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I was thinking that right as I said it, but it was already out there.” He breathes out a husky laugh then abruptly redirects the conversation with an abrupt transition, “Anyway I wrote you a song—from my heart.”

  Then with a deep intake of breath he says, “You want to hear it?”

  I nod, and he leads me to my room, and then plays the most beautiful song I ever heard. It’s hauntingly sad and soft and full of longing.

  When he’s done he says quietly, “That’s what I wrote while I was away. But I wrote something else about you since I came back. It’s from my heart too—and not from that other place.”

  This song is even more beautiful than the other one, though parts are funny, singing about ‘the girl in my sweat shirt’ and ‘the girl that won’t give me the time of day—except when she kisses me wild, then she runs away.”

  His voice dead sexy he goes on, singing that he’s in love with the sassy stubborn girl and ‘loves to watch her dance; all the while hoping for a chance.’

  When he’s done, I’m blown away. I’m touched and speechless and desperately wanting to kiss him.

  Before I’m able to formulate a single comprehensible word or action though, suddenly my beautiful friend Bridget, who is supposed to still be in Hawaii, barges into my room and gushes, “What a beautiful song!”

  Conrad glances toward Bridget, surprised by the interruption. But then he does a double-take when he sees her, his lips parting slightly and his eyes going wide. He seems to be transfixed, staring at her as though he can’t breathe.

  Oh my gosh!

  Neither can I.

  I can’t breathe.

  Because he looks as though he’s under a hypnotized love-spell, dazzled and amazed by her beauty.

  Of course this isn’t lost on Bridget. She turns pink and smiles huge, looking beyond pleased.

  Her eyes drink him in as she asks, “Who’s this beautiful boy that was singing such a beautiful song, January?”

  I can’t speak. My dying heart is in my throat, strangling me.

  This can’t be happing. It’s not faaaaair! Yes, Bridget is beyond beautiful, but Conrad’s not supposed to care or even notice that. He’s supposed to be cooler and beyond that stuff—not dazzled by superficial beauty. He’s supposed to be deep. And in love—with me. Not her. Meeee.

  But well, it looks like he’s totally in love with her and has totally forgotten about me. Because he’s so totally gaga in love with her.

  Insta-love.

  Of course it would happen to Bridget.

  Geez, I suddenly hate her.

  And him.

  Both of them with a fiery passion.

  I want them to burn up and disappear into ash and leave my tortured dying heart.

  “I came to get my house-key and Spanish notes from you, January,” she tells me after Conrad (eagerly) introduces himself to her. Her eyes still hungrily on him, she goes on talking to me as though she’s looking at me, but she’s not, “I was going to call my ex-boyfriend for a ride home.”

&n
bsp; She blatantly emphasizes the “ex” in boyfriend, still staring at Conrad.

  Conrad quickly offers (of course), hoping up from my bed like it’s on fire, “I can give you a ride. I was just leaving anyway, before January can punish me.” He leans toward her confidential-like. “She doesn’t like me at the moment, or my sweatshirt.”

  He looks to me really quick, “Did you like my song, though?”

  I’m surprised he’s even able to take his eyes off Bridget for a second, let alone remember I’m in the room.

  Before I can answer, Bridget does. “I liked it,” she gushes, instantly bringing his eyes darting back to her and getting them all glassy again. (What the—??)

  Seriously, what is going on? Why does he keep looking at her like that?

  “I loved the song, and the sexy way you sing,” Bridget purrs, “—dreamy.”

  Conrad smiles at her like she’s dreamy. Like she’s a friggin’ dream come true, an angel here on earth, bringing him a slice of heavenly heaven.

  I want to die.

  … well, I’m definitely going to throw up.

  I watch them leave together—two love-struck teenagers probably going to make-out the minute they get to Conrad’s car. If they can wait that long.

  I glare at my closed door, then collapse on my bed.

  What just happened?

  CHAPTER 58

  Hours and hours after Conrad left my house panting over Bridget, he started texting me with apologies, saying things like, “I’m sorry I rushed out of your house like that—I sort of lost my mind—but now I remember you were going to give me something. Are you too mad at me now to give it to me?”

  I huff. “Why would I be mad?”

  “I don’t know. You haven’t been answering my texts for the past hour. I figured it was because I rushed out on you like that. I want to explain. Can I come over?”