The Fake Boyfriend Experiment Read online

  Call waiting beeped, and my heart jumped. I took the phone away from my ear and looked at the display. M. Jespersen. Please let it be Rafe, not Miss Jespersen. “Rafe’s beeping in. I gotta go.” I clicked over even as Erin was ordering me to let her know after Les called me. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lily. It’s Rafe.”

  My heart did a little flip. “What’s up?”

  “I forgot to tell you that we don’t have practice tomorrow night. I’m going out with Paige. I kinda gotta do that since I’m not seeing her at practice anymore.” His voice was very cool and reserved, like he was calling the dentist to make an appointment.

  I sagged into my pillows. “Oh.”

  “But you can practice on your own, right? I mean, you know the music enough?”

  “Sure.” I picked at a piece of lint clinging to my comforter. Oh, sure, I could practice by myself. I’d been sitting alone at the piano for years. I was all over it.

  Rafe cleared his throat. “So, um, I’ll pick you up at seven on Tuesday?”

  I bolted upright. We were still on for Tuesday night? I’d been so sure he was going to cancel! “For our non-date, date?” I asked cautiously, making sure I understood. I wasn’t going to make another crazy misstep this time.

  He hesitated. “Um, yeah.”

  “Can’t wait.” I cleared my throat. “For our non-date date,” I added, wanting to make it very clear that I knew where we stood. Anything to get rid of this terrible awkwardness between us.

  There was a pause, and I winced. Had I made it worse by over-emphasizing? Couldn’t I do anything right?

  “Um, Lily—”

  “I gotta go. Dinner. See you Tuesday.” I hung up before he could bring up the semi. That invite had been the most embarrassing moment of my life. I asked him to the dance and then he called twelve hours later to tell me that he’s got a date with his real girlfriend? Major humiliation.

  The phone rang again and I answered it on the first ring, my heart leaping at Rafe’s persistence. What if he had changed his mind? “What?”

  “Lily?”

  “Oh…” It wasn’t Rafe. I flopped back against my pillows in disappointment. It was a guy’s voice that I didn’t recognize. “Chris?” Maybe the band was going to have practice without Rafe.

  “No, it’s Les. Who’s Chris? I thought your boyfriend’s name is Rafe.”

  Les? He’d really called me? Wow. I couldn’t believe it. Not that I could get that excited. I knew why Les was giving me the attention. “Chris is my other boyfriend,” I said. “Sorry. It’s hard to keep track.”

  “Really? You have two?”

  I rolled my eyes at the excitement in his voice. He was so going to lose interest when he found I had no boyfriends. “What’s up, Les?”

  “So, the semi. You said you’d give me an answer tonight.”

  I bit my lip. What choice did I have? I had to have a life, and Les was the only one asking.

  “Lily? Don’t leave me hanging.”

  Going to the semi with him would be the first step toward claiming a social life and regaining some degree of respectability after the Rafe fiasco. I had to take it. “Yes, I’ll go.”

  “Excellent.” His voice was mellow, but loaded with satisfaction.

  I sighed. Why wasn’t I more exited? I mean, he was cute, he was a sophomore, and he liked me. Or, at least, he liked who he thought I was. Close enough to heaven, right?

  “So, the guys are thinking about renting a stretch limo for the four couples. Sound good?”

  I perked up. “Really? A limo?” I’d never been in a limo before.

  “Yeah. Like, dinner first then the dance? Then maybe back to Keith’s for an after-party? Some midnight swimming and stuff?”

  And stuff. I didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. I mean, Keith’s mom had never come out the whole time we’d been at the pool. What about at night? Like when his parents were asleep? What kind of stuff did he have in mind?

  I suddenly got really nervous.

  “So, should the limo come by your place or are you girls going to meet at one house?”

  I blinked. “Erin’s. You can pick me up at Erin’s.” As if I was getting into that limo by myself. It had been hard enough to walk into the pool party alone. I was so going in with reinforcements.

  “Got it. How about five?”

  “Sure.” I pulled open my nightstand and pulled out the blue nail polish. Time to get started on the new Lily.

  “Okay, then. Gotta run.”

  I hung up and tossed the phone at the pillow. Great. My life was great. I had Les by the ankles. No piano. No audition. Everything was perfect.

  So how come I was so depressed?

  * * *

  By Tuesday night, I was a wreck. I’d practiced the band music until I had it perfectly memorized, but I could tell it was heavy and dull. I was so frustrated I wanted to pull all my hair out. But being bald would be a major impediment to my already-challenged social life, so I had to make do with periodically burying my face in my pillow and screaming until my throat gave out. Turned out that the primal scream thing actually helped a little, so that was a good discovery. See? So things weren’t so bad, right?

  I’d spent all day at school on Monday and Tuesday discussing semi plans with my friends, and getting more and more worried about the after-party. My friends were definitely planning on getting some action with their dates, but the thought of Les coming at me for a kiss was just not working for me. At all.

  My only hope was to have my parents ban me from going to the semi, and it had almost worked. Mom had freaked because the dance was the night before the audition. But as soon as she said that, my dad had been like, “Lily needs to go.”

  I mean, yeah, great, because that meant he’d accepted I wasn’t going to the audition, but man! I didn’t want to deal with that after-party! But it wasn’t like I could say no. I mean, I’d barely ditched my loser rep. If I bailed on the party, then I’d be right back to loserdom again.

  And Rafe. Ugh. I couldn’t deal with seeing him. Total embarrassment.

  I’d thought about canceling our Tuesday night not-date date. I even picked up the phone to call him once.

  But in the end, I couldn’t. And it wasn’t just the date. It was the thought of his promise that music could be fun. I had to know if he was right.

  Rafe was five minutes early. I saw his Jeep pull up while I was putting in my earrings. I almost stabbed myself in the cheek when I heard the music blasting from his speakers as he drove up. He’d actually showed up! I raced down the stairs and yanked the door open just as he was raising his hand to knock. He looked startled as I flung the door open and leapt in front of him.

  Crud. Now he knew I was watching for him! I blinked in feigned surprise. “Rafe? I was just going outside to check the mail. Is it time already?”

  He nodded, his eyes scanning my cute outfit that I’d spent three hours picking out. A short skirt, my Uggs, and a black top that showed off my sunburn from the pool party and my navel ring. His gaze lingered on my stomach for an instant, and I felt myself heat up.

  “Belly button ring?” he asked. “You don’t seem the type.”

  Oh... I was so going to melt under that thoughtful look. He looked so hot in a pair of jeans, a black tee shirt and black boots. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was a little messy. He was also wearing a knotted leather necklace with a metal horseshoe on it that was so hot. My parents would freak. He looked bad boy all the way. I grinned. “Don’t tell my parents about my belly button ring.”

  He raised an eyebrow, contemplating me as if he were seeing me for the first time. “They don’t know?”

  “Nope.” I tied a sweater around my waist. “See? It’s hidden.”

  He grinned. “Such a rebel.”

  “Hey, you told me to blow off adults, right?”

  He gave me a long look, like he was trying to figure out how Lily the classical pianist was wearing jewelry in her navel. “Mmm...”

>   “Mom!” I shouted, feeling a little self-conscious about how intently Rafe was studying me. “Rafe’s here! We’re leaving!”

  “Hang on!” A pot clanged in the kitchen, and then my mom walked out, wiping her hands on her jeans. My dad was right behind her. Mom eyed Rafe, her gaze sweeping over his outfit. “So, you’re Miss Jespersen’s nephew.” She sounded skeptical. Why not? He didn’t exactly look like he had Crusty’s uptight blood running through his veins.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shook her hand, and then my dad’s. “Rafe Turner. Nice to meet you both. I won’t keep Lily out too late, and I have a cell phone with me if you need to reach us. I can leave the number if you like.”

  My dad raised his brows at me, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Rafe was acting like the perfect date. Like he was trying to impress my parents.

  My mom’s face softened and she smiled. “Yes, a phone number would be great.”

  “No problem.” He took a pen and paper from my dad and jotted it down. “The show goes until ten, so we should be back by ten thirty. Is that all right?”

  Show? What show? We were going to a show?

  My mom frowned. “It’s a little late for a school night.”

  “What show?” my dad asked.

  Rafe grinned, flashing me a wicked look. “We’re going to a piano bar.”

  I frowned. “What’s a piano bar?” It sounded awful. “Does everyone sit around drinking pianos and talking about how many different kinds there are or something?” Honestly, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what a piano bar would be.

  Rafe winked at me. “It’s a surprise. Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

  I couldn’t keep the grimace off my face. “I don’t know—”

  “Oh, go on, Lily. Trust Rafe.” My dad put his arm around my mom, a smug smile on his face. “Have fun.”

  I narrowed my eyes at my dad. What did he know that I didn’t? “Dad—”

  “We’ll have a great time, thanks.” Rafe shook their hands again and then held the door for me, just like he might if we were on a real date.

  Which we weren’t. I knew that, but there was no way for me to lie to myself as I walked past him and onto the front steps. I wished we were. I wished Rafe was there as my boyfriend, and he was taking me out for a real date. I really did.

  It was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Twenty minutes later, Rafe knocked on the side door of a bar in downtown Boston. A bar! We were actually going to a bar! And my parents had agreed! I shifted restlessly beside him, inspecting the street for a policeman looking to bust us. “Aren’t we going to get in trouble? It’s not like we’re twenty-one.”

  Rafe winked at me. “It’s not that kind of bar.”

  Yeah, whatever, I was way too stressed to go all ooey-gooey over his wink. Well, okay, I was a little ooey-gooey. Argh! I had to stop letting him get to me! This was about piano tonight, not dating!

  The door was opened by a gorgeous woman who looked about the same age as my mom. She was in a black silk dress and high heels and exuded class and sophistication. She smiled at us, her eyes bright but a little wary. “It’s so good to see you, Rafe.” She reached out and hugged him, but I saw Rafe tense just before she grabbed him.

  Who was she?

  She released him and looked at me. “And who’s your friend?”

  Rafe put his arm around me. “This is Lily Gardner. She’s a pianist. Lily, this is my mom, Rose Turner.”

  His mom? As in, the one who’d ditched him? No way.

  Rose’s face lit up and she beamed at me with genuine warmth. “You play the piano? How lovely! Maybe you’ll play for us tonight?”

  I froze. “Um, sorry, but I’m retired.”

  Rose smiled in understanding and touched my cheek, in the same way Rafe had done before. “Of course.” She stepped back. “Come on back. The doors won’t officially open for another twenty minutes, so feel free to wander around.” She trailed her fingers through Rafe’s hair, giving him a sad look, then she turned and strode off into the back of the club.

  “Sitting up front’s best.” Rafe cleared his throat and started walking through the club. There were tables everywhere, with little white candles in the center of each one. Along the perimeter of the room were black pianos. There were five on each side, with two grand pianos at the front of the room. All the pianos were on risers, so they were a couple feet off the ground. The ceiling was pretty high and sort of curved, with all sorts of beautiful carvings. “What is this place?”

  “You’ll see.” Rafe parked himself at a table in the second row, right in the middle. “This is my favorite table.”

  I sat next to him and scanned the room. There were people bustling around, shouting and getting things organized. It was a frantic kind of energy, but not a bad one. Sort of excited and fun. One guy tossed a bundle of napkins over our heads, and someone else caught it and sprinted off, hollering at someone else. I grinned. “This place is cool.”

  “Yeah.” Rafe leaned back in his chair, surveying the place with the expression of someone whose very being was connected to the room. He looked so at peace, so supremely content to be there, despite the frenetic energy of the place.

  What was this place to him?

  A woman in a maroon vest and white shirt came over and set a couple waters, two sodas and a plate of veggies and chips in front of us. “Good to see you, Rafe. It’s been a while.”

  “Thanks, Jeannie.” He grinned at her, and she smiled back.

  As Rafe picked up his drink, I eyed him. “You come here a lot?”

  He shrugged. “I used to. My mom and dad own the place, so it’s basically where I grew up.”

  I inspected the room more carefully. This was Rafe’s parents’ place? No wonder he’d seemed so at home here. This was his turf. “Where’s your dad?”

  “Probably hiding out back. They try to avoid each other, since they can’t be in the same room without screaming at each other.” The bitterness in his voice made me look back at him, but he was glaring at something invisible on the stage. “I stopped coming when this place became a war zone,” he muttered.

  “Oh.” I couldn’t imagine my parents fighting like that. Rafe’s shoulders were all tense and his jaw was clenched. Without thinking about it, I touched the back of his hand. “That sucks.”

  He glanced at my hand on his, but he didn’t pull away. “Yeah, it does.”

  “How long has it been since you were last here?”

  He flipped his hand over so his palm was against mine, and curled his fingers through mine, his thumb rubbing on my palm. “Since the day they told me they were getting a divorce. About eight months.”

  My hand felt so warm in his. Just perfect. “That’s forever. Don’t you miss it?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want to come here and watch my parents scream at each other.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  We fell silent for a moment, and I watched a woman fix a bouquet that was on the stage between the two pianos. “So, how come you’re here now?”

  He glanced at me, something simmering in his eyes that I couldn’t decipher. “Because I wanted to bring you here.”

  “Oh.” Warmth filled me, and I ducked my head against the sudden urge to hug him.

  I looked away, noticing that the room was filling up with patrons. It was getting loud and rowdy. People were laughing and clearly fired up for a good time. Then I sat up and stared at a woman across the room. She was wearing jeans and a sparkly red top, and she was talking to Rafe’s mom. Laughing with Rafe’s mom. She almost looked like... “Rafe? Is that your aunt?”

  He followed my glance, then nodded. “Yeah, she’s a regular here on Tuesday nights.”

  “Really?” I watched Crusty as she turned to an attractive older guy wearing khakis and a polo shirt. She said something that made him laugh, then she tucked her arm though his. She was smiling at him and laughing. She looked so casual, relaxed and happy. It was so weird I almost c
ouldn’t even comprehend it. “She looks so normal. I never thought of her as having a life outside the music school. Is that her boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. He’s a fire fighter.”

  “No way! Crusty’s dating someone who gets dirty for a living?” Unbelievable. How could this be the same woman who tortured me daily?

  Rafe grabbed a couple chips from our basket and popped them in his mouth. “I told you, she’s pretty cool. She’s the one who gave me permission to get a tattoo. My parents never would have.”

  I eyed his tattoo. “What is it, exactly? I can’t figure it out.”

  “My tattoo?” Rafe turned his arm toward me and shoved up his sleeve, giving me a clear view. It was a mosaic of all sorts of different shapes in brilliant colors, so vibrant it nearly leapt off his arm. “It’s music,” he said.

  “Music?” I peered more closely, but I couldn’t see any notes or instruments. “I don’t understand. Is it like modern art or something?” I touched a bright blue geometric shape on his biceps. “Like is that supposed to be a piano?”

  He laughed. “No, it’s not literally music. It’s what music feels like to me when I play it.” He pointed to a lightning bolt. “See this? That’s what I feel like when I hit that first beat on my drum. Like something leaps to life inside me. All the colors and shapes are what I feel when I play. It’s like…” He paused, as if he were trying to think. “It’s like an explosion inside me, and every note I play is another color, another shape, like the sun exploded and turned into a million pieces of the rainbow.”

  I stared at him in shock, overwhelmed by his description. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.” I was suddenly filled with a desperate need to feel what he was talking about. “My music has never been like that,” I said. “That’s incredible.”

  He smiled, a huge warm smile. “I knew you’d understand what I meant.”

  “But I don’t. I’ve never experienced it.” I laid my hand over his tattoo, pressing my palm to it, as if I could absorb that kind of energy simply by touch. “I want that,” I whispered. “I want to feel what you’re talking about.”