The Boyfriend List (18 page)

Emerging from the center
curtain in a beautiful form-fitting yellow dress, Petra’s expression was
anything but happy and Reagan was quickly made aware that it had nothing to do
with the garment. “I don’t understand you sometimes.” Shoving her hands onto
her hips, she glared down at her friend as she lectured her. “You expect me not
to notice when you practically disappear for five days after a tragic break
up,”

“It was not
that
tragic.” Reagan interrupted,
inserting another eye-roll.

But Petra ignored her. “Then
you hatch some crazy plan to solve all your guy problems, but only bother give
me the bare bones of what’s going on? What the hell? And where the hell were
you last night?”

All the blood drained
from Reagan’s face,
how had she known?
“I don’t want to talk about it right now is all.”

Petra broke her tirade
momentarily to admire her figure in the mirror, then promptly turned to glare
at Reagan again. “Yeah. I got that part. Not good enough.” Sauntering back
toward the dressing room, she pulled the curtain shut with a snap.

Reagan’s heart was
thudding hard in her chest. God knows she wasn’t trying to keep Petra out of
the loop, she was just trying to figure out where in the loop she actually was.
The whole thing was still a big confusing mess. But she could feel the
confession bubbling up in her, it was rising in her throat, threatening to
break out. “You want to know what’s really going on?” She recognized the
hesitancy in her own voice as it mixed with the toxic desire for confession.

“Yes, actually I do.” Her
friend snapped back.

“I kissed Ian.” And there
it was. Though she could barely hear it herself, it’d been done. Released. Out
in the world. No way to get it back now...and she’d regretted it almost as soon
as she’d said it.

Stunned, Petra snapped
the curtain open and took a few steps toward Reagan. Her expression was taut,
frozen, stern. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right.” She replied
primly.

Unable to suppress the
grin that was turning up the corners of her mouth, Reagan nodded her head. “Yes,
you did.”

 
“What?!”

“I. Kissed. Ian.” Reagan
repeated, and the grin spread slowly into a full smile as she remembered each amazing
second she’d spent with him.

 
“Oh. My. God.” Petra was clearly at a
loss for words. Real words, with a real expression.

“Well, actually he kissed
me first, but I did kiss him back.”

“Ohmygod!”

“Yeah.”

“Ohmygod!” Her voice had
risen a full octave with each expression.

“You said that already.” Reagan
pointed out delicately.

“When?”

“When did you say it?”

“No!” She stomped her
bare foot against the floor. “When did you kiss Ian? I need details woman!”

“Yesterday? His
apartment. While I was locked out.” She waited for Petra to finish gasping
before she continued. “Then last night. At the stadium. Until almost three in
the morning.”

Petra extended her hands
out as though she might faint. All of her suspicions had officially been
confirmed, and she was clearly relishing the moment. “What?!” Her voice raised
at least two more octaves. “And I’m just now hearing about this? Why didn’t you
tell me?”

“And what would I have
said exactly?”

“That you kissed Ian!
Simple! Why do you have to complicate absolutely everything?”

As equally frustrated
with her friend for keeping this very juicy information from her for almost a
full twenty-four hours as she was excited about the new development, Petra went
behind the curtain in a huff to try on the next dress. But Reagan noticed she
was quicker this time, and that when she emerged she spent more time looking to
Reagan to fill in the details than she did looking at herself in the mirror.
That had to be significant.

“I blame you, you know.”
Reagan began fiddling with her nails to keep from making eye contact.

“Me? I’d love to take the
credit, but what’d I have to do with this?” She made a face in the mirror at herself
that expressed her distaste in the garment she had on before sauntering back
into the changing room one more time.

“If you hadn’t told me
Brett was on the soccer team, I wouldn’t have gone to see him. If I hadn’t gone
to see him, I would never have followed him down the street. If I hadn’t
followed him down the street, I wouldn’t have had the pretzel incident and
wouldn’t have gone home with Ian to take a shower...”

Petra’s head popped out
of the curtain to interrupt her. “You took a shower with Ian too? Wow, you move
fast.”

Reagan shook her head in
dismay. “Stay with me here. Then I never would’ve over heard his phone call and
gotten jealous and he wouldn’t have felt the need to make it up to me and so I
never would’ve kissed Ian. The first time.”

“My head’s spinning.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“I knew this was going to
happen. I told you. Wait.” She put up a finger. “Hold that thought.” Petra
disappeared behind the curtain, but quickly reemerged in yet another dress. “So
where’d you two leave it?”

“We didn’t.” She
shrugged. “We haven’t really had time to talk about what it all means yet,
because I’m here with you now.”

“It was good right?”
Petra’s eyes were sparkling with mischievous charm. “The kiss?”

Reagan was smiling
dreamily as she remembered the moment. “Oh yeah.” She grinned.

“I knew it. Wait.” She
looked as though an idea just occurred to her. “Have you slept with him?”

“Petra!”

“It’s just a question.”
She shrugged, though a wicked expression flashed from her eyes.

“Not yet. I don’t move
that
fast.”

“Obviously.” The giggle
that escaped was meant to indicate the years it took for Reagan to even get to
this point. “But you
are
in love with
him, right?”

 
“I think so.” Reagan’s voice was barely
above a whisper as she considered the answer. But she knew that when her lips
were saying
I think so
, what her
heart really meant was
yes.
And Petra
could see through her answer.

“I knew it!” Petra
squealed with excitement, practically bouncing up and down.

“But I don’t know how he
feels. I mean, he said he loves me,” Reagan blushed at the confession, “but I’m
not sure where he wants to take all this. Not really.”

Petra hesitated as she
scrutinized her reflection, then shot a wicked smile over to her friend. “I
do.”

“What does that mean?”
Reagan’s eyes opened wide.

“I know exactly how Ian
feels about you. Think the party was the only thing we discussed on the phone?”

“You...what...I don’t
even have a word for you right now. Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to tell
me?” She was practically levitating from her chair in anticipation.

“Can’t.”

Reagan stood straight up.
“What?”

“I’ve been sworn to
secrecy.”

“Since when do you keep a
secret?”

Petra considered this. “Since
now.” She nodded.

“You can’t do that.”

“For the time being I
can.” She shrugged. “But trust me, it’s good.”

“Great.” Sarcasm rolled
from Reagan’s tongue as she slouched back against her chair in despair.

“What’s keeping you two
apart anyhow?”

“Honestly?” Reagan looked
up almost forlornly at Petra. “I don’t even know any more.”

“Good.” Petra gave
herself a nod of approval before turning to Reagan. “What do we think?”

Reagan took one look at
the silver sequined, practically painted on dress, and smiled graciously.
“Perfect.”

Friday
Afternoon

Ian hated shopping almost as much as he hated extravagant parties. But if
ever there was an occasion to make an exception, it was going to be tomorrow
night’s event. And when he’d heard the disappointment in Reagan’s voice as
she’d explained her dilemma at the boutique, he knew exactly what the perfect
surprise would be to cheer her up. So what if it was Petra’s birthday, he
planned on buying Reagan as many gifts as it would take for her to be confident
in his intentions.

After having gauged approximately where she must’ve been on campus based
on the sequence of events she’d described, Ian grabbed a coffee from the locally
owned shop and began strolling up the street, keeping an eye out for a stunning
red dress displayed in a hole-in-the-wall boutique. It wasn’t long before he
thought he’d stumbled on it. And damn, had Reagan been right. One look at it
and he couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing her body would be in it.

After loosing himself to a few minutes of fantasy, he stepped carefully
inside and was quickly approached by an over eager clerk who welcomed him a
little more enthusiastically than was necessary.

“I have sort of an...unusual situation.” Ian began to explain, and the
clerk listened intently. “My girlfriend, well, the person I’m about to make my
girlfriend,” he corrected, “was in here the other day, I think, and tried on
that red dress.” He was pointing toward the window display. “But she left
before she could purchase it. Do you remember her, by any chance?”

“Oh sure!” The clerk exclaimed, and Ian released the nervous breath he’d
been holding. “Beautiful girl, she was a lot of fun.”

“Okay cool.” And this, Ian thought, was going to be the trickiest part of
all. “I want to get her the dress, but I don’t actually know what size she
wears.”

“And you don’t want to make the wrong guess.” The clerk finished on his
behalf.

“Exactly.” Ian snapped his fingers. “Do you remember...” As his voice
trailed off, he began to think about how impossible the situation might
actually be, and he wasn’t exactly one for making a backup plan.

 
“I’m pretty sure I can guess
her size.” His voice seemed confident enough to reassure Ian. “But, now I have
to ask, before I start pulling items off their shelves again.”

Ian’s eyebrows lifted in concern. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you can afford this now? Because your little girlfriend ran
out all scared when she saw the total.”

Ian smirked with confidence. This was going to be easier than he’d
thought. Digging his slim wallet out of his back pocket, he removed his black
credit card and offered it to the clerk, whose eyes had lit up like diamonds at
the sight of it. “Find me everything she had, in the sizes that she needed, and
I’ll bring her back here after our date is over.”

“You’ve got it.” And taking the card, the clerk quickly began moving
around the store before Ian had time to change his mind.

Saturday

Clad in her
fluffy, purple robe, Reagan stepped in front of the steamy mirror. She swiped
at the glass, brushing away some of the condensation so she could thoroughly
analyze her reflection as she waited for the tub to finish filling with water.

At least she
didn’t look as tired as she had yesterday, she considered as she flashed
herself a quick smile. She looked drained, yes, anyone would after the powerhouse
session of paper writing she’d endured to keep her grades intact. But it was
nothing that a nice bath, a strong cup of coffee and a shot of something sweet
and strong later on couldn’t fix. If the party had been yesterday though? Well,
that would’ve taken a miracle to repair, and she knew it.

Turning off the
faucet, she removed her robe and laid it gently on the counter before dipping
her toe to the water to test the temperature. But before she could settle in
and relax, there was a knock at the front door. She wanted to ignore it, but it
came a second time.

 
“Petra!” She yelled. “I’m not dressed
yet. Can you get that?” Though she knew exactly what her friend’s response
would be.

“No way.” Petra
called from the other side of the thin wall, as predicted. “I’m the birthday
girl.”

The knock came
yet again, and Reagan released a resolved groan, indicating her feelings on
delaying her relaxation. Wrapping herself back up in the robe and tightly
pulling the belt around her waist, she marched through the living room. “I’m
coming! Hold on!” She called.

Lifting herself
high up on her toes, she looked through the peephole, to see who the persistent
person was, but quickly found it had been covered and she couldn’t see anything
of the hallway at all. “That’s strange.” She muttered under her breath.

Flinging the
door wide open, a suspicious look on her face, Reagan was shocked to find the
hallway was empty. She looked up and down, and even peeked over the banister as
much as she could from standing in her doorway, but the only thing that was
there was a pink envelope with her name scrawled over the front. “It’s not my
birthday, what’s this?”