My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours (13 page)

TorItUp:
Of course.

SiennasHeart:
Good. I can't wait to meet him!

TorItUp:
Can we chat later? I need to finish this work.

SiennasHeart:
Sure. See you tomorrow. TGIF!

 

Yeah, she may be thanking God it's almost Friday but I'm not. That only leaves me a day to find Sebastian and convince him to come to the dance with me.

I return to my search results and click on page two. Oh, luck! Sebastian has a Buddiez page. I set up a page earlier in the summer but haven't been on it too much since. I log on to it and click on Sebastian's page. I click “Add Friend” and wait. And wait. And wait some more. I have this bad habit of thinking everyone is online at the exact time I am. He might not even be home. Maybe
he's on the school football team and he's at practice right now. Or maybe he does volunteer work on Thursday afternoons. Or maybe he's suddenly getting hundreds of friend requests with his new fame so it takes him longer to go through and accept them.

Ugh. This isn't working. What am I going to do?

Isn't it strange how walking to homeroom can seem so much like walking to your own funeral? It's never felt like this before, of course, but now that there are only thirty-six short hours until the school dance where I am to make Sebastian magically appear in the flesh, it's feeling very funeral-y.

I make myself walk into the classroom, clutching my books to my chest so hard that my knuckles are turning white. Everyone is already here. I waited until the last possible second to come in, hoping that doing so would cut down on the chatting and unavoidable questions about Sebastian.

“Tori,” Avery yells, waving.

Sea grins at me. “You're just in time. We're going over our outfits for tomorrow. I'm thinking of going with a concert tee, fitted black velvet vest, and my dark jeans.”

“I'm wearing a pink minidress with my tall brown boots,” Natalie announces. “My mom is trying to make me wear tights too, but I'm fighting it.”

“I'm wearing jeans and a sparkly silver sweater that belts around the waist. It's new,” Avery adds.

I nod and attempt a smile. “Your outfits sound great. I'm still not sure what I'm wearing.” Seriously? Clothes have got to be about the last thing on my mind. More like the tenth thing
after
the last thing on my mind.

“Want me to come over and help you pick something out?” Sienna asks.

I'm temporarily speechless. She wants to help me pick out my outfit.
Now?
That's where this whole mess started. She was supposed to help me pick out my outfit for the first day of school, but she was MIA. She couldn't be bothered to call or e-mail or send a carrier pigeon. Nothing. Maybe if she'd just been there for me this summer I wouldn't be in this huge gigantic lying mess. Argh!

“Tori? You okay?” Sienna inquires. She's giving me a truly concerned look.

“Hmm?” I respond.

“You spaced out or something there. I asked if you wanted me to help you pick out an outfit for the dance tomorrow,” Sea restates.

You know, I never ditched Sea like she did me this summer. And it isn't like the opportunity never arose.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. It was the fifth-grade field trip to Springfield. Claire Philips and Tess Aimes asked if I wanted to sit in the back of the bus with them. They said Sienna couldn't come though. It was a bad period in Sienna's life. Her mom had cut her bangs
way
too short, and waiting for them to grow out was excruciating for her. Kids teased her. But not me.
I'm
a true friend. I said, “Hey, you don't want my short-banged friend, then you don't want me.” All right, maybe I'm remembering that a tad grander than it was. Actually, I think I shook my head no and slipped into the seat with Sienna in the middle of the bus. She gave me a grateful look and didn't say a word. But know what? She didn't need to. That's what best friends do.

“Tori,” Sea calls out, shaking my shoulder.

“Oh, no. No thanks,” I reply. I straighten up in my seat, facing the front of the room. Where the heck is the bell? There is entirely too much talking time for my liking.

“So, what did Sebastian say?” Sienna speaks to my back. “Is he coming to the dance?”

I plaster on a smile and turn around. “Yep. He can't wait to meet everyone,” I say. I know, I know, but I've been lying so much these past two weeks, why stop now? I don't think there is much of a chance that I can make things any worse than they already are.

“Yay! It'll be fun. I bet him and Antonio get along great,” she declares.

“I'm sure they will,” I reply.

“My mom had the news on last night and that story about him and the fire came on. I told her how he was your boyfriend and she was like ‘Wow, lucky girl,' ” Avery tells us.

I smile. Lucky me!

Brinnnnnnng!
There's that dang bell. I turn back around, facing the front of the room, and slump down in my seat.

I escape homeroom without any more incidents and head straight for science.

“Tori! We missed you yesterday,” Daphne says as I slide into my seat.

“Yeah, I wasn't feeling so hot,” I reply. I'm still not.

“Don't worry, you didn't miss a thing. The sub had us work silently on an old lab the entire hour. It was way boring,” Bella says, tapping her pencil on her desk. “And she didn't even notice that you were gone.”

I smile at Bella. “Thank you
so
much for that. I totally owe you.”

“No prob,” Bella replies.

The sub takes roll at an excruciatingly slow pace, butchering most of the students' names. I can't stop thinking about my e-mail. I haven't checked it since early this morning while I was getting ready for school. Maybe by some small miracle Sebastian got one of my e-mails and decided to take the chance that I wasn't a whackadoodle and responded. It could happen. I've heard lots of adults say miracles happen every day. I could get one. What else do I have to hold on to?

I raise my hand when roll call is over, and the sub calls on me. “Can I come up to your table and talk to you?” I ask.

She nods.

“Hi,” I say when I reach her. “I'm Tori Barnes.”

“Hi, Tori,” the sub says.

“Did Mrs. Wittler leave you a note about me?” I ask.

She frowns and begins to leaf through the giant pile of papers before her. “Um, I don't think so,” she finally says. “What's up?”

“I'm working on a special project. For the science fair. Mrs. Wittler lets me go to the library on Fridays to work on it,” I state.

“Oh, of course. So, what do you need from me? A pass?” the sub replies without hesitation.

Wow. That was easy. Maybe I should ask her for
more stuff? No, I need to concentrate. I need to get to my e-mail. “Yeah, thanks.”

The sub scribbles out a pass to the library, and I take it. I grab my stuff, wave to Daphne and Bella, and head out.

Minutes after I arrive in the library I'm seated at one of the computers and my e-mail is open. Nothing. Sigh.

I log on to Buddiez, still hanging on to a sliver of a thread of hope, and Oh. My. God! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Sebastian Colander, the real, living, breathing Sebastian Colander, has accepted my friendship. I can't sit still. I want to dance. I want to channel all of my old Irish relatives and display my happiness in a jig. I jump out of my seat and clap my hands.

“Ahem.”

I turn toward the checkout desk. Mrs. Cass is staring at me, one eyebrow raised, hands on hips in a no-nonsense pose. That's teacher for “settle down.”

Message received loud and clear. “I'm sorry,” I whisper and retake my seat.

My heart is racing though. This is
it
! Surely the universe is behind me 100 percent. This
is
going to somehow happen. Sebastian
will
come to the dance with me. Now that we're Buddiez friends I'll write him a note—a lovely note. Something warm and friendly, clever and
charming, and not at all like a crazy weirdo Internet stalker. I'm sure I can get him to come to the dance tomorrow. All signs are pointing to yes, so how can he say no?

I click on Compose and stare at the giant empty box, waiting for the magical note to appear that will deliver Sebastian on my doorstep. Or the school steps if he'd prefer. Whatever.

Ugh, this is hard. I'm not sure what to say. If I were an eighth-grade boy and some girl wrote asking me to a dance, what would she have to say to get me to go? Aside from saying her name is Taylor Swift, of course. Even I can't pull off that lie. Maybe flattery? Maybe tell him it's my dying wish? No, that's mean. I can always tell him that I told the whole school he was my fake boyfriend and now that he's real I'd like to introduce him to everyone. No, then he really will think I'm a crazy person.

I'll just start typing and see what comes to me.

 

Dear Sebastian,

Hello. I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Tori Barnes and I'm a seventh grader at Norton Junior High in Norton, IL. To be honest, I'm not very good at talking to boys. In fact, you're the first boy I've ever written to.
But I figured if I was going to take this huge step and ask a boy to our school dance then I wanted it to be an extra-special boy. Like you. I guess I went and got right to the point of why I'm writing. We have a dance in our school gym here at Norton tomorrow and I would be so honored if you would consider going. With me. I heard about your heroics in saving that family from the fire and I think you are an amazing person. We can go to the dance just as friends (Buddiez friends, LOL). What do you say?

—Tori

 

There. I don't know if it will work, but I'm all out of options. I've just got to hit .  . .

Send.

And wait.

Thank goodness the last school bell has finally rung. I've been waiting for it all day. I never did get online again to see if Sebastian wrote me back, and the suspense is seriously killing me. We're at T minus twenty-eight hours until the dance.

I gather my books and stuff them into my backpack. I'm trying to hurry so I can be the first one on the bus and get one of the back seats. I really don't want to talk to anyone. I want to go home and get online.

I shuffle down the hallway, and Avery yells after me. “Bye, Tori! We'll see you tomorrow.”

“And Sebastian too,” Natalie adds.

I wave over my shoulder but don't turn around.

“Later, Tori,” Daphne calls out as I pass her.

“Later,” I reply.

The door is only a few feet ahead. I'm about to make it out of here.

“Tori! Wait,” Sienna calls.

I freeze. Shoot. I was so close. I turn around. “Yes?”

“Do you want a ride home?” she asks.

“Oh, that's okay. The bus is fine. Really—”

“Don't be silly. My mom's car is right there.” Sea points out the door to her mom. “C'mon.”

Ugh. Just what I need. Ten minutes in the car with Sea talking nonstop about Antonio's visit, the dance with Antonio, the weekend with Antonio, blah blah blah all that boyfriend stuff. I'm going to lose it, I swear.

“Okay,” I say anyway and follow her out to her car. At least it will get me home and in front of my e-mail faster than the bus would. I climb into the backseat.

“Hi, Tori,” Sea's mom says.

“Hi, Mrs. Baker,” I return.

Sienna climbs into the seat next to me. “Are you totally excited for tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah,” I reply, trying to sound it.

“Me, too. Remember the back-to-school dance last year? When we went together?” Sienna asks.

“Of course.” I smile. “Remember how we were too scared to dance with any boys the whole night? Not that any asked us.”

“How could they? We spent most of the time standing by the soda machine.” Sienna laughs. “We were kind of dorky last year.”

I shrug. “Yeah. But I didn't mind.”

Sienna looks thoughtful. “Well, we're sure not dorks this year.”

“I guess not,” I agree. We're both pretty quiet for the next few minutes, until we pull into my driveway.

“Want me to come in and help you pick out your outfit?” Sienna asks.

I shake my head. “It's okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride!” I hop out of the car and run up to my house.

Once I've put the double lock on the front door, I practically run to my room and fling myself into my desk chair. I log on to my Buddiez, and
yes!
There
is
a
reply from Sebastian Colander. I knew it. I'm literally shaking. everything is going to work out.

I open the message and read.

 

Dear Tori,

Hey. Thanks for the nice letter and invitation to your school's dance. Sounds like fun. Unfortunately, I can't make it. For one, I don't exactly know you. And my parents have this strict rule about me not meeting anyone off of the Internet. I'm sure you're a normal girl, but you never know when an old crazy bad guy is going to try and lure some kid somewhere, you know? For two, I'm only fourteen and I can't drive. And three, even if I could drive, my parents would never let me drive that far on my own. I'm real sorry. But hey, if you send me your address I can autograph my picture from the paper and drop it in the mail to you.