The Boyfriend Swap

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The Boyfriend Swap Page 11

by Meredith Schorr


  Hey Robyn,

  I hate to be a buzzkill, and I planned to wait until January to bring this up, but I’m freaking out and you’re the only one who would understand. I was in the teachers’ lounge yesterday and overheard Mrs. Johnson and Mr. Philips whispering about budget cuts in elective studies like music. Have you heard anything about this? From one music teacher to another, can we talk?

  Lance

  So much for sparing him from the stress I was under. I bit back a sob as a wave of exhaustion washed over me. The day felt way longer than twenty-four hours. Unprepared to respond, I closed out the email and placed my phone next to me on the bed. I tried not to give too much credence to the rumor when I’d only heard it from Lynn, but the band teacher telling me he overheard two other members of the school staff discussing budget cuts was more difficult to dismiss. I glanced over at Will, who was sleeping soundly, and debated waking him up to vent. But what good would it do? Despite his physical proximity, he wasn’t my boyfriend. It would be a stretch to even call him a “friend.” My phone beeped a return text from Perry as if confirming my decision not to wake Will.

  “The Bellows are like the Quartermaines from General Hospital. Sidney’s dad actually drinks brandy in the afternoon. Too bad none of the soap operas are filmed in New York anymore because I’d be perfect as the prodigal daughter’s boyfriend from the other side of the tracks. Don’t you think?”

  I laughed quietly and typed my response. “A few of the shows were set in the Philadelphia suburbs. And I agree you’d be great.” Right as I pressed “send” I received another new one from him.

  “How are you?”

  I frowned and wrote him back. “Tired, but having a good time. The parental figures are not at all suspicious about Will.” It would have made sense to tell Perry about Lance’s email, but considering how little comfort he’d provided when I first broached the topic of budget cuts, I didn’t bother.

  “I hope he’s keeping his hands to himself.”

  I looked over at Will, who appeared to be in a deep sleep and free of all the worries that clogged my brain space, both personal and professional. I wrote back, “No worries. He’s on his best behavior. I hope Sidney is being a good hostess and things are going according to plan.”

  Perry responded in less than a minute. “It is! Sidney’s parents love me. I miss you, but things are going so well.”

  My heart felt lighter knowing at least Perry was having a good time. Maybe Sidney’s plan would work after all. I wrote back that I missed him too and fell back against my pillow. This time, sleep came quickly.

  Chapter 8

  Sidney

  When my alarm went off at seven thirty the next morning, I immediately bolted out of bed and changed into my workout clothes to run around the property. It was Christmas Eve and I wanted to burn some calories to make room for the next two nights of gluttony. After slipping a pair of suede earmuffs on my head, attaching my iPod to an armband, and confirming the laces of my Brooks sneakers were double knotted, I let myself out of the house without checking to see if anyone else was even awake. I wanted to finish my run before Perry woke up so I could keep him out of trouble, but I had a feeling he’d sleep until noon.

  While I ran my four-mile path, I passed gated fences which led to neighboring estates like my parents’, as well as still-undeveloped land on the market for potential buyers or real estate investors. My feet pounded against the well-paved streets, and I could see my breath in front of me thanks to the arctic temperature outside. Preferring a treadmill at the gym to running outside, I fought my desire to turn around after only two miles. I was glad I didn’t quit when, just as I reached the bottom of the driveway at the end of my run, I came up with the perfect plan to avoid extended time with my parents over the course of the afternoon. I would tell them I had last-minute shopping to do at the mall and drag Perry with me. The way he’d behaved the night before was unacceptable. It was as if he was infected with a disease that caused him to take everything I said and respond with the complete opposite. He was like a wild animal, and if I couldn’t control him, I needed to put him on a leash.

  I’d ditch him as soon as we arrived at the mall so we could do our own thing. There were a few belated items I needed to pick up and I also wanted to check my work email without my dad hovering over me. Perry could organize a flash mob in the food court for all I cared, as long as he stayed out of my way and had some distance from my parents. We’d conveniently get home from the mall with just enough time to clean up for dinner. The Bellows’ Christmas Eve celebration was a more intimate version of Christmas—only one third of the guests, most blood relatives of either my mother or father.

  Breathing heavily as I entered my house, it took me a few moments to notice the uncharacteristic morning chatter coming from the kitchen. After stretching my calves and hamstrings in the foyer, I followed the noise and stopped short at the sight before me—my parents and Perry were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee and gabbing like old friends. My parents were dressed in casual day-wear, but Perry was wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and he had a significant case of bedhead that, annoyingly, he wore well. He was waving around his coffee mug, clearly in the midst of an anecdote, and had my parents’ rapt attention.

  I stood at the edge of the room dumbfounded, one foot on the slate floor of the kitchen and the other still planted on the glass mosaic tile of the hallway, until Perry noticed me and smiled big.

  “There’s my honey bunny. How was your run, Cherry?” He stood up and pulled me in for a kiss which, thankfully, was closed mouth, or else I might have been tempted to bite his tongue.

  Ruffling his hair for show before slowly removing myself from his embrace, I shivered. “It was cold. But now I feel better about eating whatever I want for the next two nights.” Darting my eyes between my parents, I said, “You guys are up and about early.”

  “I have so much to do today. First, I need to go over the menu for tomorrow with the caterers and confirm they have enough vegetarian options, and then I need to double check the seating chart,” my mom said.

  My dad nodded. “Yes. Those two items will certainly take you all day,” he said with a chuckle before continuing to type on his laptop. As my mom went to swat his hand, he grabbed it and kissed her palm. All was forgiven.

  “Sidney mentioned I’m on a gluten-free diet, right?” Perry asked.

  As my mouth dropped open, my mom glared at me. “She most certainly did not.”

  Turning away from my mother, I smiled gently at Perry, hoping he’d see the daggers shooting out of my eyes. The idiot had neglected to tell me about his dietary restrictions, but I couldn’t very well admit as much to my mother since it would raise a serious red flag and suggest we’d never shared a meal together. “You sure I didn’t tell you, Mom? Isn’t that why you made vegetarian corn tortillas and quinoa salad last night for dinner?” Senility was an unlikely culprit, since my mother was only fifty-six, but she might blame a lapse in memory on party-planning stress and let me off the hook.

  My mother sighed. “The menu last night was mere coincidence, Sidney. We have gluten-free options for tomorrow night, but now I have to speak to the caterer about tonight.” She shook her head in annoyance.

  “I’m sorry to add extra work for you,” Perry said, frowning in my mother’s direction and widening his eyes to pools of blue.

  “No worries, dear,” she said with a sweet smile before turning to me and adding, “Not your fault.”

  Raising my hands in defeat, I said, “I’m sorry. Dad has me slaving away at the office. How am I supposed to remember everything?”

  Looking up from his computer, my dad said, “Leave me out of this. And don’t blame it on work either. I haven’t seen you with your computer all weekend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We only arrived yesterday and you all wanted to watch It’s a Wonderful Life last
night.” With a loud exhalation, I said, “Dinner’s not for another ten hours. Plenty of time. Want me to pick up some gluten-free dishes at Trader Joe’s? I need to run some errands anyway.” I glanced at Perry. “How do you feel about going to the mall with me?”

  “I’m here for you, Sidney. Whatever it takes,” he said.

  “Great.” As the words slipped off my tongue, I realized Perry had answered my question using an Indian English accent. “Are you rehearsing for something?” Was Perry’s manager so useless that he encouraged him to waste his time auditioning for roles he’d never pull off, no matter how convincing his accent was? Perry—blond, blue-eyed Perry—would never pass for Indian unless he was playing the adopted son of Indian parents or the show was being performed exclusively to a blind audience.

  “No. Perry’s been giving us examples of all of the voices he learned in acting school.” My mom clapped her hands together and said, “Brilliant” before pursing her lips at me. “And the answer is no, Sidney. You cannot pick up dishes at Trader Joe’s. I’m not serving prepared meals on Christmas Eve. The caterer will have plenty of time to arrange a few extra dishes for Perry.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble for me, Barbara,” Perry said in an apologetic tone—no accent this time.

  Waving him away, my mom said, “It’s no trouble. Can you do a Scottish accent? Do Sean Connery.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “Has he done his accents for you? He’s wonderful.”

  “My favorite was the old Jewish man ordering a bagel with schmear. Priceless,” my dad said laughing. “They taught you well at the Portland Actors Conservatory.”

  I furrowed my brow in confusion. When had my father had an opportunity to discover where Perry went to school? Even I, his fake girlfriend, didn’t think to ask. The only reason I even knew where Will went to school was because the first thing fellow lawyers asked each other, after where they practiced, was where they got their Juris Doctorate. While I continued to contemplate how many rounds of twenty questions my parents had time to ask Perry during my forty-minute run, Perry answered, “Thank you. I like to think I’m a triple threat since I can sing, act, and dance. I’ve been compared to Matthew Morrison.” He beamed proudly.

  “You’re better looking than him. You know who Perry looks like, Sidney?” Before I could respond, my mom said, “Zac Efron. Now he’s a hottie.” Then she blushed, something I hadn’t seen her do since…ever.

  “You’re so sweet, Barbara,” Perry said, lightly tapping my mother’s hand. “I just need a guardian angel to toss some fairy dust over my head and give me some of his luck.”

  My dad shook his head sympathetically. “You need a good agent is what you need. Let me ask around the office.” His eyes lit up. “Actually, there are several people coming tomorrow you should meet.” Turning to my mom, he said, “Doesn’t Marshall work for Take 3 Talent now?”

  A finger to her chin in contemplation, my mom said, “I think so—”

  When Perry opened his mouth to respond, I realized this conversation could go on for hours if I didn’t do something. Batting my lashes at him while simultaneously running my fingers along his defined bicep, I said, “Maybe we should take our showers so we have enough time at the mall. It’s going to be packed with eleventh-hour shoppers.”

  Perry said, “Sure” and rose from the table.

  “Perry probably needs less time to get ready than you. Why don’t you go on and we’ll keep him occupied?” my dad said to me while motioning for Perry to sit back down.

  “Great idea, Harvey,” Perry said, returning to his seat. “Give me a shout when you’re about thirty minutes out and I’ll come up. I want to hear more about this Marshall dude first. You really think he’d talk to me?” he asked my father.

  With a boisterous laugh, my dad said, “It’s my party. He has no choice.”

  “This is great.” Standing up again, Perry pulled me into a hug so tight, I could smell the fresh, sweet scent of his laundry detergent. It smelled like Robyn, and I wondered if she did his wash with a bird resting on her shoulder. Separating from me, he said, “I’m having the best time. I’m so glad you asked me.”

  Planting a fake smile on my face, I said, “Me too,” wishing it were the truth.

  Robyn

  I woke up the next morning in a panic. I’d had a dream in which the new principal of my school was the Evil Queen from Snow White and she canceled the music program. I’d never dreamed about fairy-tale characters before and blamed Will for reviving the Snow White nickname. I gasped in remembrance. Will. I’d been sleeping on my side facing the window, but unless I’d also dreamed the last few weeks, he was right next to me. I sat up and braced myself for a visual I never dared to imagine I’d see in real life—Will Brady sharing my bed. I slowly turned my head and there he was, sleeping soundly with no evidence of bad dreams like the one I’d been having. For the benefit of my younger self, I took a minute to observe him. He was a nose breather, unlike Perry, whose faint snores from sleeping with his mouth open often woke me up. Will’s lips were textbook perfect—arched Cupid’s bow on the top and full lower lip. I’d dreamed about kissing the beauty mark above his top lip way before Jake Gyllenhaal made it sexy. I continued to study him for a moment before shaking myself out of it. Watching someone sleep was creepy even when you were dating him. Doing it to a random guy, even if the guy was Will Brady, sunk to a whole new level of disturbing.

  I groaned to myself before stepping off the bed as stealthily as I could. I grabbed fresh underwear, a pair of magenta corduroy pants, and a lavender t-shirt and took a shower. When I returned to my bedroom, I was relieved to find the room empty since I wasn’t prepared to see Will in his languid waking-up state. I noted with a blush that if he woke up like Perry, he’d be relieved to find the room to himself. But I couldn’t remember Perry ever making my bed like Will had. Before heading downstairs, I emailed Lance back to tell him I’d heard the rumors too but was trying not to panic. I also suggested we get together after the holiday and brainstorm solutions. I knew there were foundations in place to assist struggling music programs. Maybe they’d help us.

  A few minutes later, I joined Will in the kitchen. “Good morning.”

  “Back at you,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Hope it’s okay I made my own breakfast. I was starving and no one was around.” He pointed to the bowl of Cheerios in front of him at the kitchen table.

  I waved him off. “Of course, it’s fine.” With my back to him as I removed a gallon of orange juice and a container of yogurt from the refrigerator, I asked, “You sleep all right?”

  “Great. You have a comfy bed,” Will said with a yawn, and I looked over in time to see him stretch his arms over his head. He gestured toward his computer. “I don’t expect any work emergencies, but I need to at least stay on top of the emails.”

  I sat across from him at the table and sipped my juice. “One perk to being a music teacher is the lack of homework over the major holidays. With the winter concert out of the way and several months until the spring concert, my break is a holiday in its truest sense.” Of course, if the rumors Lynn and Lance heard were true, I might find myself on a permanent holiday soon. I swallowed down the ache in the back of my throat with a spoonful of yogurt.

  “Lucky you,” he said with sincerity. “I think we’re the first ones up.” Even though Will hadn’t showered yet, he’d thrown on a pair of black sweatpants and a hoodie. He probably assumed my parents would be weirded out if he came down in boxer shorts. If he were more familiar with my parents, he’d know they wouldn’t even notice. I, on the other hand, would, and I was hoping for a blush-free day.

  The scent of coffee was decidedly absent, which meant no one had been downstairs yet. “Jordy can sleep all day. My parents are more unpredictable, but they seem to be asleep as well.” I swallowed a spoonful of yogurt and glanced up at Will, who was studying me curiously. “Is something wrong?”


  He shook his head. “Is your hair wet?”

  As I ran a hand through my long hair, droplets of water fell to the surface of the kitchen table. “Yes. It takes a while to dry because it’s so thick.”

  Will’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t use a blow dryer?”

  “Nope.”

  His mouth formed an O. “Wow.”

  I snickered. “What’s so fascinating about letting my hair dry naturally?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone who wasn’t high maintenance about her hair. Sidney even has that iron thingie.”

  “A flatiron?”

  He shrugged. “I guess.”

  I patted down my hair self-consciously. “Sidney has great hair.”

  “So do you.”

  Caught off guard, I choked on a response but was saved when his phone blessedly pinged a text message.

  “Speak of the devil.” As he typed a response, I read the coupons on the back of the cereal box until he looked up. “Sidney says ‘hi.’”

  “Tell her I said ‘hi’ back.” I watched Will tap on his phone, completely engaged in his conversation with his girlfriend. I wondered how much Sidney missed him when they were apart. Then I pondered whether Will was homesick for her. Was he silently counting down the hours until he saw her again? I missed Perry, but I wasn’t exactly pining over him. I thought back to leering at an unaware Will while he was sleeping and felt sick to my stomach. What kind of horrible girlfriend was I? “Don’t think you need to hang out with me all day if you have people to see.” Distance from Will would do me good.

  Will pushed his phone to the side and cocked his head at me. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  I smiled timidly. “Not at all,” I lied before scooping up the last of my yogurt and walking my dishes to the sink.

 

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