Read Online The Starter Boyfriend by Tina Ferraro - Free Book Online
Authors: Tina Ferraro
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a baby that night. No, not waking up every hour, crying, but a long, hard, solid sleep. I woke before my usual alarm clock explosion, feeling oddly okay, like the phone call had never happened. I decided to take extra time to work my hair, my outfit, my mood. Why not have a good day?
In the car, when KROQ assaulted my sensibilities with an oldie about it being a Manic Monday, and I had to resort to street parking because I couldn’t find a spot in the student lot, and a glance at the ensuing crowd told me it was a School Spirit Day (should have worn a softball shirt), I kept my cool. I was simply getting the crap out of the way early.
That philosophy held all the way into the building and up the stairs to my locker. Where in addition to the people doing their usual grab-and-slams, I spotted Flea, Saffron and Madison. Standing in a half-circle—like a broken Krispy Kreme—in front of my locker. Except there was nothing sweet in their eyes.
“O.M.G., Courtney,” Saffron burst out.
“Have you seen it?” Madison asked.
My voice and any semblance of reason were pretty much flattened by a tsunami of adrenaline. “Huh?” I managed.
Flea flicked her head toward a flyer on a nearby wall. A neon pink page screamed out: “LOST DOG!” above a black-and-white photo. A head shot of Randy. I stepped closer to read the small print.
Answers to Randy.
Last seen holding his mommy’s paw
while wagging his short, stubby tail.
Someone had crossed out “tail,” changing it to “thing” before photocopying.
Whoa. A guttural choke sounded from my throat. I turned back to my friends. “Cold, much?”
“Of course,” Flea spoke immediately, “Jacy’s denying it.”
“Of course she’s denying it!” Saffron snorted with a loud inhale. “Wouldn’t you? It’s probably not only tacky, it’s illegal.”
“Or at the very least, littering,” added Madison. “And I hear Randy’s furious, ripping down every flyer he finds.”
“Well, duh,” echoed the others.
Saffron let out a short laugh. “You’re so in, Courtney.”
I must have looked as baffled as I felt because Madison cleared things up for me. “Randy. You should totally go to Homecoming with him.”
“It’s not like he’s asking me!”
“Puh-lease.” Saffron smiled and two dimples formed in her cheeks—Catherine Middleton perfect. If I hadn’t gone to school with her since seventh grade, I might have wondered if they’d come from her dad’s wallet, rather than his gene pool. “Everyone saw you at my party. You were all over each other.”
“We talked for like two minutes.”
She plucked a piece of imaginary lint from her sleeve. “Longer than that. A lot longer. But you know what they say about time flying when you’re having fun.”
Give me a break. Randy Schiff and me. Right.
Besides, in my heart-of-hearts, when I imagined myself bathed in the glow of the dance ball at Homecoming? The guy in my arms was wearing a certain thirty-eight long, thirty-two inch inseam style 02116 tuxedo, and had bluer-than-blue eyes and an expression that could be considered rather, well, wooden.
“We’re all going to the dance,” Madison spoke up. Which I had pretty much figured since both she and Flea had boyfriends, and Saffron now had—or at least, was going with—Adam. “And it’s not like Randy’s gonna say no if you ask him.”
Flea did an eye-drill into mine. “He needs a date.”
Saffron threw her hair and nodded at the same time. Sort of dizzy-making, still, effective. “I hear Jacy’s ripping people new ones over this, and threatening death and dismemberment to any girl in their crowd who goes to the dance with him.”
“In their crowd,” Flea repeated. “Which of course, applies to none of us, right?”
The girls gave me knowing looks and supportive shoulder pats before moving en masse down the hall.
“Make us proud!” Saffron called back over her shoulder.
Watching them disappear, their voices replayed in my head. I was
In the car, when KROQ assaulted my sensibilities with an oldie about it being a Manic Monday, and I had to resort to street parking because I couldn’t find a spot in the student lot, and a glance at the ensuing crowd told me it was a School Spirit Day (should have worn a softball shirt), I kept my cool. I was simply getting the crap out of the way early.
That philosophy held all the way into the building and up the stairs to my locker. Where in addition to the people doing their usual grab-and-slams, I spotted Flea, Saffron and Madison. Standing in a half-circle—like a broken Krispy Kreme—in front of my locker. Except there was nothing sweet in their eyes.
“O.M.G., Courtney,” Saffron burst out.
“Have you seen it?” Madison asked.
My voice and any semblance of reason were pretty much flattened by a tsunami of adrenaline. “Huh?” I managed.
Flea flicked her head toward a flyer on a nearby wall. A neon pink page screamed out: “LOST DOG!” above a black-and-white photo. A head shot of Randy. I stepped closer to read the small print.
Answers to Randy.
Last seen holding his mommy’s paw
while wagging his short, stubby tail.
Someone had crossed out “tail,” changing it to “thing” before photocopying.
Whoa. A guttural choke sounded from my throat. I turned back to my friends. “Cold, much?”
“Of course,” Flea spoke immediately, “Jacy’s denying it.”
“Of course she’s denying it!” Saffron snorted with a loud inhale. “Wouldn’t you? It’s probably not only tacky, it’s illegal.”
“Or at the very least, littering,” added Madison. “And I hear Randy’s furious, ripping down every flyer he finds.”
“Well, duh,” echoed the others.
Saffron let out a short laugh. “You’re so in, Courtney.”
I must have looked as baffled as I felt because Madison cleared things up for me. “Randy. You should totally go to Homecoming with him.”
“It’s not like he’s asking me!”
“Puh-lease.” Saffron smiled and two dimples formed in her cheeks—Catherine Middleton perfect. If I hadn’t gone to school with her since seventh grade, I might have wondered if they’d come from her dad’s wallet, rather than his gene pool. “Everyone saw you at my party. You were all over each other.”
“We talked for like two minutes.”
She plucked a piece of imaginary lint from her sleeve. “Longer than that. A lot longer. But you know what they say about time flying when you’re having fun.”
Give me a break. Randy Schiff and me. Right.
Besides, in my heart-of-hearts, when I imagined myself bathed in the glow of the dance ball at Homecoming? The guy in my arms was wearing a certain thirty-eight long, thirty-two inch inseam style 02116 tuxedo, and had bluer-than-blue eyes and an expression that could be considered rather, well, wooden.
“We’re all going to the dance,” Madison spoke up. Which I had pretty much figured since both she and Flea had boyfriends, and Saffron now had—or at least, was going with—Adam. “And it’s not like Randy’s gonna say no if you ask him.”
Flea did an eye-drill into mine. “He needs a date.”
Saffron threw her hair and nodded at the same time. Sort of dizzy-making, still, effective. “I hear Jacy’s ripping people new ones over this, and threatening death and dismemberment to any girl in their crowd who goes to the dance with him.”
“In their crowd,” Flea repeated. “Which of course, applies to none of us, right?”
The girls gave me knowing looks and supportive shoulder pats before moving en masse down the hall.
“Make us proud!” Saffron called back over her shoulder.
Watching them disappear, their voices replayed in my head. I was
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