people always want something from me?”
“Sure,” I replied instead.
“Will you be my pretend girlfriend?” he asked.
My eyes popped open and I turned to him. “Pretend girlfriend?” I asked, completely shocked by what he was asking. “Why pretend ?” I was annoyed and a little hurt. I didn’t want a boyfriend. I didn’t even like Ryan in that way, but why did it have to be a pretend thing? “Is it because of my parents? You want to pretend you’re my boyfriend so people can say ‘Oh, look how cool Ryan is. He’s Brooklyn’s boyfriend. He gets to go to her house and see her mom all the time.’” I imitated with a goofy voice even though my blood was boiling. I sat up quickly, too pissed off to sit there any longer.
He grabbed my arm to keep me from standing. “No! I don’t give a fuck who your parents are, Brooklyn!” My eyes widened at his use of word. We didn’t usually say bad words, even though some of the other kids in our class spoke like sailors behind the teachers’ backs. “I need you to pretend because my father asked me if I was gay, and I said no, but I know he doesn’t believe me.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh,” I said. “I guess … are you?”
He shrugged. His eyes looked sad, all the light that was previously there had gone out. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I think so.”
I looked around, not knowing what to say or do. “Do … do you want to find out?” I finally asked.
His blond eyebrows crinkled. “How?”
“I dunno, maybe if you kiss me you’ll see that you’re not gay?” I suggested with a shrug.
Ryan laughed. “Okay.”
So we did. We both leaned in, our lips touching ever so slightly until they met. That’s as far as it got before we both pulled away, both looking equally as disturbed and disgusted.
“No?” I asked.
“No,” he confirmed.
We shared a laugh and lay back down beside each other for the rest of the night.
“Well, boyfriend, I think I’m going to go home now,” I said when I saw Nina walk outside.
Ryan smiled brightly. “So that’s a yes? You’ll be my girlfriend?”
I laughed and bumped him with my elbow. “Are gay guys supposed to be that excited about having a girlfriend?”
“A pretend one, yeah,” he said, laughing as well.
“So I guess that’s a yes,” I said. It’s not like I had anything to lose.
“Brooklyn,” he said, standing and helping me up. “This will be the beginning of a beautiful pretend relationship.”
I shook my head, unable to contain my smile. “I believe you.”
And that was how my friendship with Ryan went from “just friends that talk here and there” to “pretend boyfriend and girlfriend that don’t let each other breathe because we talked so much.” And I loved it. Every moment of my relationship with Ryan was full of joy.
For a while.
Much like non-pretend relationships.
I’m expecting Shea to call me at any moment. He’s been in the studios downstairs for the past week and a half and has yet to tell me what he wants to talk to me about. I’ve made it a point to stay out of his way so he can focus on his album. We’ve been to lunch a couple of times, but other than that it’s been hi and bye. Even when I leave for the day, he and Nick are holed up in the office working their asses off.
As if hearing my thoughts, my phone rings in my hand as I walk into the Harmon building. I glance down at my screen and see a text message from Sarah. I swipe it to read the entire thing, which is a thank you and a picture of Melody with the American Girl doll we bought when she was here. I smile, replying to her quickly and stuff my phone in my purse. I’ll just go up and see Shea on my way to my office.
The elevator ride is, as usual, eternally long with all of the stops it makes on the way up. I’m fidgeting with the mustache scarf I wore today when we finally reach the forty-fourth floor. It’s a half-day for me today, so I dressed casual. It’s not really a
“Sure,” I replied instead.
“Will you be my pretend girlfriend?” he asked.
My eyes popped open and I turned to him. “Pretend girlfriend?” I asked, completely shocked by what he was asking. “Why pretend ?” I was annoyed and a little hurt. I didn’t want a boyfriend. I didn’t even like Ryan in that way, but why did it have to be a pretend thing? “Is it because of my parents? You want to pretend you’re my boyfriend so people can say ‘Oh, look how cool Ryan is. He’s Brooklyn’s boyfriend. He gets to go to her house and see her mom all the time.’” I imitated with a goofy voice even though my blood was boiling. I sat up quickly, too pissed off to sit there any longer.
He grabbed my arm to keep me from standing. “No! I don’t give a fuck who your parents are, Brooklyn!” My eyes widened at his use of word. We didn’t usually say bad words, even though some of the other kids in our class spoke like sailors behind the teachers’ backs. “I need you to pretend because my father asked me if I was gay, and I said no, but I know he doesn’t believe me.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh,” I said. “I guess … are you?”
He shrugged. His eyes looked sad, all the light that was previously there had gone out. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I think so.”
I looked around, not knowing what to say or do. “Do … do you want to find out?” I finally asked.
His blond eyebrows crinkled. “How?”
“I dunno, maybe if you kiss me you’ll see that you’re not gay?” I suggested with a shrug.
Ryan laughed. “Okay.”
So we did. We both leaned in, our lips touching ever so slightly until they met. That’s as far as it got before we both pulled away, both looking equally as disturbed and disgusted.
“No?” I asked.
“No,” he confirmed.
We shared a laugh and lay back down beside each other for the rest of the night.
“Well, boyfriend, I think I’m going to go home now,” I said when I saw Nina walk outside.
Ryan smiled brightly. “So that’s a yes? You’ll be my girlfriend?”
I laughed and bumped him with my elbow. “Are gay guys supposed to be that excited about having a girlfriend?”
“A pretend one, yeah,” he said, laughing as well.
“So I guess that’s a yes,” I said. It’s not like I had anything to lose.
“Brooklyn,” he said, standing and helping me up. “This will be the beginning of a beautiful pretend relationship.”
I shook my head, unable to contain my smile. “I believe you.”
And that was how my friendship with Ryan went from “just friends that talk here and there” to “pretend boyfriend and girlfriend that don’t let each other breathe because we talked so much.” And I loved it. Every moment of my relationship with Ryan was full of joy.
For a while.
Much like non-pretend relationships.
I’m expecting Shea to call me at any moment. He’s been in the studios downstairs for the past week and a half and has yet to tell me what he wants to talk to me about. I’ve made it a point to stay out of his way so he can focus on his album. We’ve been to lunch a couple of times, but other than that it’s been hi and bye. Even when I leave for the day, he and Nick are holed up in the office working their asses off.
As if hearing my thoughts, my phone rings in my hand as I walk into the Harmon building. I glance down at my screen and see a text message from Sarah. I swipe it to read the entire thing, which is a thank you and a picture of Melody with the American Girl doll we bought when she was here. I smile, replying to her quickly and stuff my phone in my purse. I’ll just go up and see Shea on my way to my office.
The elevator ride is, as usual, eternally long with all of the stops it makes on the way up. I’m fidgeting with the mustache scarf I wore today when we finally reach the forty-fourth floor. It’s a half-day for me today, so I dressed casual. It’s not really a
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