by Paula Stokes
Two days pass and Jason still doesn’t call. I spend my downtime at work rereading highlighted passages from The Art of War. I remind myself not to be reckless or afraid or prideful or obsessively worried.
“Get this.” Micah slides a tray of Death-by-Chocolate-Moose Brownies in the pastry case. They smell like my grandma’s house, warm and sweet. My mouth starts to water.
“Yeah?” I shake the contents of the blender into a tall eco-friendly cup and top it with an uneven spiral of whipped cream.
“Leo and I both worked last night, and I might have told him about our plan.” Micah shuts the case with a click.
The can of whipped cream slides out of my fingers and rolls across the counter, leaving a trail of white foam behind. The girl waiting for her blended ice coffee taps her dark purple fingernails on the counter and stares at me.
“Micah!” I hiss. “Wasn’t that rule number one? This was supposed to be our secret.” I put a lid on the drink and hand it to the girl.
“Straw?” she asks, as if I’m the world’s biggest idiot.
“Over by the napkins,” I snap back, like she’s not very smart herself.
Micah pulls a towel out of his back pocket and swipes at the trail of whipped cream. “What’s the big deal? You told Bianca.”
“Bianca basically came up with the plan. The big deal is that if word gets out this isn’t real, it’ll get back to our exes and we’ll look like idiots.”
“I’m sorry, but he knows we’ve been hanging out,” Micah says. “Would you rather I told him some of those PG-13 stories?”
My face gets hot. I glance quickly around the front of the coffee shop. Ebony at her usual table, sipping a latte and reading the Riverfront Times. Monochrome Girl rocking a mix of plum and indigo hunched over her computer. Five tribal masks grinning demonically. No one is paying us any attention.
“Okay. So you told him. So what?” I start mentally calculating how many people Leo could tell, and how many they could tell, and how many degrees of separation there are between practically invisible Leo and soccer superstar Jason Chase.
Micah picks up on the look on my face. “No, it’s cool. He was actually wondering if you might be willing to fake-date him too.”
“What?” I screech. “Why? I’m pretty sure Leo hasn’t spoken one word to me since he started working here.”
“Chill,” Micah says, lowering his voice. “It’s kind of a hard thing to ask a girl to do, but since you’re already doing it . . . He figured you’d say no, but he’s willing to pay you and everything.”
“Pay me?” The image of me and Jason on a beach in Costa Rica, half naked, both of us with drinks in our hands, flashes before my eyes. “Does he think I’m a hooker?”
Micah’s eyes flick momentarily to the hem of my miniskirt. He coughs into his hand. “Why would he think that?” He ducks out of the way as I go to slug him and then continues, “Forget it. I’ll tell him you’re not down with the idea.” He swings his towel in a circle as he heads back to the kitchen.
“Hang on,” I say. “Tell him I’ll think about it.” After all, I am supposed to be seizing opportunities that arise. “What about us? It’s your turn. Dare I ask where you’ll be taking me next?”
“Don’t worry.” Micah snaps his towel at me and I jump back. “I’m working on something for us,” he says. “I’ll be in touch.”
It’s a couple of days later when Leo and I both work an opening shift.
“So,” I say, hopping up onto the prep table, my hip just inches from the edge of the cutting board. I can’t help but grin. There’s something empowering about knowing a guy wants to date you, even if it’s only for pretend.
The knife blade wobbles in Leo’s hand, but he keeps dicing. “So,” he says back. His pile of tiny ham cubes grows in size.
I look him over. He’s about six feet tall with brown hair and gray eyes. Not thin, not fat. Jeans. Polo shirt. Nice tan. There’s nothing wrong with him. There’s just nothing that really stands out about him either.
“Micah says you have a proposition for me.” I pluck a piece of ham from the top of the mountain and pop it in my mouth. The saltiness makes me wince.
Leo nods. He adjusts the brim of his cap. “Two hundred up front,” he blurts out. “Another two hundred if it actually works.”
The ham tries to lodge itself in my windpipe. I cough hard. “You’re willing to pay me four hundred dollars to hang out with you a few times?” That’s more than half the airfare to Costa Rica. “You do realize this is all pretend, right?”
“Yep.” He slices the ends off a white onion and peels back the skin. “Getting Riley back would be worth every penny, and then some.”
My eyes immediately start to water. “You saved all that money working here?” I feel a little guilty about potentially fleecing him. I know nothing about his ex-girlfriend or why they broke up. What if she dumped him because he was a terrible kisser or because she turned lesbian?
“I work a second job in the summer. Landscaping. It pays pretty good.”
“Why’d you guys break up?” It suddenly occurs to me I was so focused on my own problem of getting Jason back that I never bothered to ask Micah why he and Amber broke up. I should probably do that.
“She’s a year older than me and started taking college classes at the beginning of summer. She said it just felt like we were growing apart.”
“Well, there’s no guarantee I can help you. I mean, it’s not like I’ve helped Micah much yet.”
Leo shrugs. “I’m a pretty patient guy. And Micah said he found you . . . entertaining.”
“He did, huh?” I hop down from the prep table and flip the brim of Leo’s baseball hat to the back. Peeling the label off a can of chickpeas, I write my phone number on the back. “Let me know what you have in mind and I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 16
“ACCORDING AS CIRCUMSTANCES ARE FAVORABLE, ONE SHOULD MODIFY ONE’S PLANS.”
—SUN TZU, The Art of War
I decide two hundred bucks up front is too good to pass up, so when Leo texts me Thursday night asking if I want to go to a play at Hazelton Forest University, I don my most studious outfit and call him back to confirm.
“What are we going to see?” I ask, straightening the pleats of my plaid miniskirt.
“The Tragedy of Faust,” he says. “Part One.”
I wrinkle up my nose. “Sounds tragic.”
“You don’t know the story?” Leo’s voice raises at the end, as if he can’t believe I’m not an expert on classic literature.
“I’m more into current theater, like movies.”
“I think you might like it,” he says. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.”
I give Leo directions to my house and then peek my head into the study. My mom is sitting at her computer, half buried behind a stack of textbooks. Handwritten notes on yellow lined paper are splayed out around her. A collection of painted coffee mugs lines the left side of the desk, the nearest one venting wisps of steam into the air. She frowns at her computer screen.
“Hey, Mom. I’m going to Hazelton Forest to see a play.” I fiddle with the collar of my button-up shirt.
She looks up, her lips pursed as if maybe she’s heard me wrong. “With Jason?”
“No, with a friend of mine from Denali.”
She spins her chair around so she’s facing me and reaches out for the steaming mug. “I haven’t seen Jason in a while.”
“Yeah. We sort of broke up.”
“And you’re all right with that?” She sips from the mug.
Leaning against the door frame, I cross my arms. “No, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Well, Jason is charming, but you’re both young . . .”
Oh, brother, here we go. “I should let you get back to work,” I say brightly, edging my way back out into the hallway.
“Just remember, I’m here if you ever do want to talk,” she calls after me. “With your brother gone, I feel
almost like I’ve been slacking in the parental department.”
I peek my head around the corner again. “No chance. You’re the least slackingest person I know.”
“Says the daughter with the blue hair. Your father and I were hoping that was a clip-on or a barrette, but it never seems to go away. Are there any other bodily alterations I should know about?” Her voice is light but I can hear concern in her words.
“It’s a clip-in extension I can take out whenever. And no other alterations, I promise.” I flash her a quick smile. “You don’t need to worry. I’m totally fine.” I dart back to the living room before she can ask any follow-up questions.
I wish I were as fine as I’m pretending to be, but hearing my mom tell that classic mom parable about other fish in the sea is not going to help right now. Collapsing onto the sofa, I try to relax to the beat of her fingers tapping out her latest masterpiece.
Grabbing my phone, I text Bianca. She knows about my plans tonight.
This Leo date. I feel weird about it.
It takes her a few minutes to respond. She’s probably working the register.
Is it the money?
Is it? I suppose it could be.
Maybe.
So then don’t take it.
That’s what Bee would do, help Leo out of the goodness of her heart. But Costa Rica . . . so much time alone with Jason . . .
Before I can respond, another text comes through:
I gotta run. What looks like an entire softball team just got in line. But just try and enjoy the night. Leo seems pretty cool. You might have fun.
I pluck the remote from the coffee table and skim through the channels. I pause on Celebrity Sightings, hoping for mention of Flyboys or Caleb Waters, but it looks like he’s not in the news this week.
Two channels up, I catch the end of my commercial. I watch myself stroll across the quad with a backpack slung over one shoulder. A camera zooms in. “Hazelton Forest University. Affordable education and professors who care,” TV-me says. “What more could you want?”
“Maybe a Division I soccer team?” I mumble under my breath. I keep flipping until I find an episode of the Los Angeles season of So You Think You Can Model. The remaining six girls are doing a black-and-white photo shoot wearing lingerie and old-time movie star makeup. I wonder what Kendall is doing right now. I wonder what she’d think of me hanging out with Leo. She might actually approve if I told her it was going to provide the money I needed to go to Costa Rica. Kendall is very goal oriented.
The doorbell chimes and I unstick my legs from the sofa. “Later, Mom,” I holler toward the open door of the study.
The tapping stops. My mom peeks her head out of the study. “Remember, curfew is midnight,” she says.
“Got it.” It’s only six thirty. I can’t imagine Leo and I being out past ten, let alone midnight.
I open the door and slip out onto the porch. Leo is wearing black pants and a pale blue dress shirt with the top button undone. His hair is slicked back on the sides and slightly spiked up on top.
“Hey, Lainey.” He laces his fingers together in front of his body and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
He’s nervous—how cute. I smile. “Hey. I like your hair that way.” I tug on the hem of my miniskirt as I make my way down the driveway toward Leo’s sky-blue Ford Taurus. Maybe I should’ve worn something a little longer.
“Thanks,” he says, unlocking the door for me. The first thing he does when I get in is toss me a wad of twenties. I debate counting it, but then decide that would make an awkward moment even weirder, so I quickly slip the money in my purse. If he’s willing to pay for this, then I shouldn’t feel bad about it.
We head toward Hazelton Forest. Suburbia flies by. Pizza places, dry cleaners, Bianca’s church where I learned to play soccer, even though I’m not and never have been Catholic. I pick at the vinyl trim on the edge of my seat. Leo drums his fingertips on the steering wheel. Neither of us says anything. One of us needs to. We might as well be driving out to the desert to bury a body together.
“So how’d you meet Riley?” I ask finally.
“We were both in Karlsson’s Intro to Acting class together,” he says.
“Cool. I wanted to take it last year but Kendall talked me out of it. I probably shouldn’t have listened to her.”
Leo smiles big enough to show teeth. “It was the best. Almost like not even going to class. I probably never would have talked to Riley if we hadn’t been paired up for a skit. She is so funny. And gorgeous.” The smile fades from his lips. His body sinks back into the car seat. “Probably out of my league.”
“You can’t think like that,” I say. “Or else you’ll make it true.”
“What do you know about people being out of your league?”
“More than you think.” I toy with the strap of my purse. “You didn’t know me in middle school. I used to be an awkward mess. Everyone was out of my league.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I remember when I first started liking Jason, at the beginning of freshman year. Kendall forced me to talk to him when she caught me staring out her bedroom window, watching him swim laps in the pool. ‘At least say something to him,’ she insisted. ‘Or I’m going to tell him I caught you drooling over his half-naked body.’ Rather than endure life-threatening humiliation, I managed to squeak out a few words when he came back inside.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this story.”
“Go on.” Leo has both eyes on the road but a smile plays at his lips.
“Over the next few weeks, Jay and I became friends. I was shocked when he asked me to Homecoming. All I saw was this guy who could have his pick of girls, but for some reason he wanted me,” I say. “For the first few months we dated, I was always waiting for him to break up with me.”
“What did you do?” Leo asks. “How did you get over it?”
“I think a lot of it was Kendall. If it weren’t for her constantly reminding me of my fabulousness, Jay and I probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did.” I stare straight ahead through the windshield, watching the reflective road markers zoom by. “But enough of that. Tell me more about this play.” I don’t like thinking of the Lainey I used to be. What if it was dating Jason that changed me? Does that mean if I don’t win him back I’ll go back to being awkward and insecure?
Leo brakes slowly and smoothly as we pull up to a red light. “It’s the story of a guy who sells his soul to the devil.”
I snort. “Why would he do something so dumb?”
“It’s complicated,” Leo says. “He’s disillusioned with his life. But basically he does it for a girl.” Cars on either side of us fly past as he accelerates in the same controlled manner. He pulls off the highway and turns into the Hazelton Forest campus. We drive past the student union and the social sciences building where my mom has her tiny windowless office.
“Well, just so you know, I’m not the devil,” I give him what I hope is a devilish grin.
“Pretty sure your friend Kendall has dibs on that title,” he says.
Kendall and I have managed to share almost every class since sophomore year, and I don’t remember Leo being in any of them. “You don’t even know her,” I protest. “She’s not that bad.”
“A failing grade is not that bad. Mono is not that bad,” Leo says. “Kendall Chase is evil. Everyone knows that. You practically said so yourself.”
“She was just trying to help me with Jason,” I say. “And everyone must not know that, or else she wouldn’t be the captain of the soccer team. And the front-runner for student government president.”
“Those are just positions of power handed down from one despot to the next.” He pulls the car into a parking space outside the student amphitheater.
“What’s a despot?”
His lips curl upward, ever so slightly. “A dictator. Like Hitler.”
The messed-up thing is I’m thinking Kendall might not be offended by the compariso
n. Her need to dominate everyone and everything at school probably comes from the fact she has no control at home. I’d probably be exactly like her if I had grown up with her mom. I have no idea how Jason ended up so laid-back.
“Kendall has it tough at home.” I unclick my seat belt and slide out of the car. “And really, her bark is worse than her bite.”
“If you say so.” Leo doesn’t sound convinced.
We cut across the parking lot where families, other couples, and clusters of college kids are making their way toward the auditorium. Even though the sun is starting to set, the air hangs heavy and humid around us.
Inside the building, I let Leo lead me down the plush-carpeted aisle to a seat in the second row. The walls of the amphitheater are covered with gold-embossed dark purple wallpaper. Above our heads, glass-blown chandeliers tinkle from the breeze each time one of the theater doors opens.
He pulls his phone out and holds it in front of us. “To commemorate the night.” He leans over close to me and takes a picture.
I peek over his shoulder as the saved image pops up on his phone. Our faces come out extra pale against the dark backdrop of the room, but it’s a cute photo. “We look like a real couple,” I say.
Leo smiles. “Do you care if I post it online? No caption or anything. I’ll just let people wonder.”
“I don’t mind,” I say, settling back in my seat. If it leaks out, it’ll be just one more thing to make Jason jealous.
Leo slips his phone into his back pocket.
“So, what part does Riley play?” I ask quietly. Other people are talking, but there’s something about the fancy décor that makes me feel like I should whisper.
“She’s Gretchen.”
“And who’s that?” I smooth invisible wrinkles out of my miniskirt, adjusting the hem to cover more of my legs.
“The girl Faust is in love with.”
“Do they end up together?”