Free Fake Boyfriend - Kate Brian by Kate Brian Page A

that connected Westmont to the next few towns. "And I definitely don't want to babysit some random setup date all night."

    "Exactly! I want to go with someone cool, you know? Someone who'll just be able to kick back and have fun and not take the whole thing so seriously," Curtis said.

    What about me? Lane thought, her heart pounding. I can kick back and have fun!

    "Anyone in mind?" Vivi asked, looking at Lane out of the corner of her eye. Lane squirmed, wishing she could be anywhere but here right now. Why couldn't Vivi just leave it alone?

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    "Well, there's this one girl ..." Curtis said. "But I don't know. I doubt she'd ever go with me."

    Vivi looked uncertainly, pityingly, at Lane. Lane felt like the whole world had just stopped as the trees and mailboxes continued to whip past her. Like she wasn't even really there. Curtis had a date in mind. He liked someone. Someone he saw as unattainable. In other words, not her. Not Lane. Of course he wasn't thinking of Lane. Why would he? She was his friend. His neighbor. Literally, the girl next door. The girl who walked his bike home from school. Why did she ever let herself think for even a second that he might see her as anything more?

    "Who is she?" Vivi demanded.

    "No one you know," Curtis replied.

    I'm going to throw up, Lane thought, checking the junk near her feet for something that could double as a barf bag.

    "Come on. Who is she?" Vivi wheedled, probably figuring Lane would want to know. Well, Vivi was wrong about that. Lane would rather tear her eardrums out than talk about Curtis's dream date.

    "Vivi, he doesn't want to tell us. Drop it," Lane said quietly.

    Vivi took one look at Lane's pallor and bit her tongue. "Fine," she grumbled.

    "Okay! So! New topic!" Curtis announced, oblivious. "So what, exactly, are we looking for in a Brandon?"

    Vivi filled Curtis in, babbling on and on about hotness factor and smoldering qualities. Lane, meanwhile, stared out the window, trying to get control of her breathing.

    It's over. He doesn't want you, she told herself, trying to

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    accept it. At least now you know, and you can move on. But her logic didn't make her heart hurt any less, and it didn't make the unshed tears recede from her eyes.

    Somehow, the not knowing had been a whole lot better.

    ***

    "Eh. She's not that hot," Toothy Blond Dude said to Vivi, giving Isabelle's picture a cursory glance. He wore the standard Saint Paul's Prep uniform-- light blue shirt, burgundy-and-blue plaid tie, and burgundy jacket over tan pants. But since it was after hours, the tie was loosened and the shirt was untucked. Vivi had thought he looked pretty sexy, until he blew off her perfectly gorgeous best friend as if she were a troll. "Now you on the other hand..." he added, looking Vivi up and down.

    Vivi rolled her eyes impatiently. What was it about attending an ancient school with all-brick buildings and no estrogen to speak of that turned guys into egomaniacs? She saw over his shoulder that Curtis and Lane had reconvened on a bench in the center of the sun-drenched quad. Neither of them looked particularly happy.

    "I, on the other hand, have a black belt in karate," Vivi lied, stepping slightly away from the swiftly advancing guy. "So if you have any interest in retaining your ability to procreate, you'll walk away right now."

    Toothy Blond Dude made a disgusted face and walked away. "Freak."

    "Loser," she called out loudly. Then she pocketed her

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    Isabelle picture and walked off to join her friends. "No luck?" she asked, dropping down on Curtis's right.

    "Nothing. All the guys I talked to either thought I was in some cult or thought I was punking them or something," Lane said, slouching far down onto the bench.

    "I figured her picture would seal the deal, but they all thought I was showing them a fake. Like there's no way a girl as pretty as Isabelle can't get a date to the prom." Curtis sighed, dejected. "Which, of course, makes sense."

    "This is