The Boyfriend List (4 page)

It was no wonder then that Petra thought something had
gone horribly wrong, and was growing restless for detailed information.

“Well?” She was asking expectantly before Reagan could
even find her words again.

But Reagan’s eyes grew wide at another possibility. “Do
you think he saw me?”

Petra glanced quickly behind her friend and shook her
head. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s not looking at me now?”

Petra rolled her eyes and sighed. “No. Come one, tell
me what he looks like.”

“He’s cute.” She finally admitted, her voice low so he
couldn’t hear her. “Really cute actually.” The second statement was an
afterthought, more to herself than to her friend as she recalled her surprising
visual of the person sitting just behind her. She was so close to him, she
considered, and yet he seemed so unreachable to her somehow.

“Then that’s settled.” Her friend was smiling widely
across the table at her. “Problem solved. Go introduce yourself.”

“Okay.” Reagan nodded in agreement. Yet when she
thought about moving, she found herself glued to the seat.

“What are you doing?” Petra asked after a few seconds
when her friend remained motionless. No, not just motionless. Completely frozen
in place.

But all Reagan could do was smile sheepishly and
reply, “Working up the nerve.”

"Well,”
It was clear by the tone of her voice that she’d had enough of Reagan’s damsel
in distress act for one day, “if you want to meet him then it’s now or never,
because your mystery man is walking out the door right now." Petra nodded
her head toward the table behind them. The two were simultaneously standing and
throwing down a couple of bills each for the tip. “And if you don’t go for it
now, I don’t ever want to hear about this, or him, again.”

With
alarm etched into her face, Reagan turned around to see that yes, the guys were
in fact disappearing into the crowd. Without a name or any other identifying
information to go on, she knew this could very well be her last chance to
verify if all her curiosities had been true. Maybe it was the fear that her
possible dream guy could slip right through her fingers, or maybe it was
something else all together. But whatever it was, Reagan had practically leapt
from her seat before realizing she’d even moved. She wasn’t sure what she was
planning to do, or even what she was planning on saying once she caught up to
them, but she knew she had to try.

Unable
to resist the urge, she paused just for a second as she passed their table,
glancing down at the bills that had been left. It was a generous tip, she
noted, particularly when compared to that of his friend. Brownie points for him
already.

"Call me later! And
I want details!” Petra’s voice faded as Reagan disappeared into the crowd that
lingered by the door.

Reagan
practically erupted through the door and into the multitudes that lingered on
the red brick sidewalk. Her clumsy exit drew more than a few stares, to which
she blushed and did her best to ignore as she looked around for her mystery
man. A girl on a mission, she didn’t have time to worry about things like that.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself despite her tendency to worry
about things
exactly
like that.

She
wasn’t sure what to expect, but she’d assumed he would be standing there
somewhere, maybe with his back to the door. Though completely out of her
character and definitely stretching her comfort zone, she’d figured she could
walk right up with some stupid, transparent excuse to talk to him and gauge his
interest in getting to know her. If it went well, there was a coffee shop just
down the road she sometimes visited. It was a nice place to talk...

But
she was getting ahead of herself, and when she made it to the sidewalk she
couldn’t find him anywhere. There was no sign of him, as though he’d already
completely disappeared. Deciding there hadn’t been time for him to hop into a
cab, get his own car or walk completely out of sight – she hadn’t been
that
far behind him after all –
she looked quickly around, straining her memory for something about him that
would be easy to pick out from the
gazillions
of other people who were apparently out enjoying the day. There had to be
something, she just needed to focus...

His
height? Maybe, but there were a lot of tall guys around. His hair? Probably not.
And she couldn’t remember exactly what he’d been wearing, so that was out of
the question too.

His
eyes? Absolutely, she thought as she felt the familiar fluttering of her nerves
telling her she’d hit the bulls-eye spot on. And that was when she realized it
-
that
had been the feature that had
kept her so entranced in the restaurant. Those deep, piercing pools of blue
were teasing a smile to her lips even now as she replayed over and over in her
mind the intense energy that had radiated from them just a few minutes
before...

But
she was wasting time now with her daydreams, and having distinctive eyes wasn’t
going to do much good in helping her to pick him out from the crowd. It’s not
like she could go up to every tall guy with wavy hair to see if their eyes were
a perfect match. Though, considering the alternative, it was becoming more and
more tempting.

If
she were to be completely honest with herself though, the more she thought this
through in a reasonable and calm manner, the more ridiculous the whole thing
was becoming to her. Rushing out there, looking to introduce herself to a guy
she’d never met had just been an impulsive decision formulated on the basis of
a string of very bad days. She realized that now. And if there was something
that Reagan was not, it was impulsive. She was the one who triple checked her
lists and planned out every detail. She was the one who signed up for her classes
and mapped out the most efficient path across campus on the first day of
registration. She was in control of her life. Or, at least, she was supposed to
be. But somehow that seemed to be changing for her lately.

Not good Reagan
, she lectured herself.
Not good.
It was time to get herself back
together, and she’d have to start right that moment. But just as she was about
to give up her search and go back inside to settle her bill with Petra, she
caught a familiar form from the corner of her eye. Doing a double take, she
peered more intently through the crowd and found her mystery man standing at
the curb, waiting for valet. And suddenly, she found her interest in the plan
renewed. Her determination to meet him was practically surging out of her.
Though she had no idea where the confidence had come from, she somehow knew she
could pull this off, despite the rush of jittering nerves that surged through
her body at the possibility of failure. But just as she stepped toward him, the
valet guy rushed the car up, swung open the door, and her mystery man
disappeared inside.

That
would be her luck, she decided with a definitive nod as she stepped backward
into the crowds again.

 
“How’d it go?” Reagan jumped, having not
seen Petra as she stepped up to her side. “Did you get his number?”

“No.
I lost him.” She admitted regretfully.

“Fate?”
The suggestion was based purely on the knowledge of her friend’s belief in such
entities. Petra, on the other hand, was not such a willing doctrinaire, as
evidenced in the reluctance found in her voice.

“Who
knows...” Reagan shrugged, resolved in the fact that this was now the end of
the road, and she may never meet a guy who upholds the same ideals and
standards for a relationship as she does. Petra pushed her lips into a pout on
her friend’s behalf, but it quickly turned into a sly smile as she spotted a
figure in the distance.

“Well,
I’ll tell you what is.”

Reagan
finally turned in the direction her friend was looking. “What?”

“That
his cute friend is coming over to us right now. You might get your introduction
after all.”

Reagan’s
heart fluttered at the thought, but she wasn’t so sure it was as much from
sincere desire anymore as it was from apprehension. And she was pretty sure
that not being able to distinguish between the two was a bad sign.

The
guy in question of course sauntered up closer to Petra than to Reagan, leaving
little room between their bodies. “What’s your name sweetheart?” He started,
his awkward attempt at swagger was as apparent in his voice as it was in his
stride.

But
Petra took it all in good-naturedly and played along. She told him her name as
she took the hand held out to her, and shot a glance over to Reagan who was
looking on in sheer aversion. He lifted it to his lips, all the while keeping
his gaze intently on Petra’s face as she tried not to giggle. Reagan merely
rolled her eyes at the pseudo-romantic gesture as she tried not to hurl.

“Hey
Romeo,” She purposefully interrupted the moment, “your friend looks kinda
familiar, where do I know him from?”

“Who,
Brett?” Derek reluctantly broke his gaze with Petra. “Who knows. Brett’s all
over the place. The type that keeps schedules and checklists and shit like
that.”

Informative
, Reagan thought sarcastically,
though she couldn’t deny she and
Brett
were more alike than she’d thought. But at least she had a name now. And then
suddenly another idea hit her, “Oh my god. That’s it!”

“What’s
it?” Petra asked, as she and Derek both turned to look at her as though she’d
sprouted another head.

“I’ve
been going about this whole relationship thing completely the wrong way.”

And
that’s when it started. What was meant to be a simple rebound introduction with
a cute guy quickly launched Reagan’s new full-scale operation. Little did she
know then that her plan would not only rule the entire upcoming week, but
possibly change her college life forever.

“You see, I’ve been going
about this whole relationship thing completely the wrong way.” Reagan started
to explain as she unlocked the front door and entered the tastefully decorated
apartment that the girls shared. Petra’s parents had refused to let her stay in
a dorm, and had gone about selecting housing that was suitable for their
princess – it had the perfect amount of space, perfect amenities, perfect
location to campus, perfect atmosphere, and perfectly pleasant property
managers - which was a rarity in itself near campus. And since Petra’s family
had insisted she get a roommate, assumedly so someone would know if she went
missing for weeks at a time, Reagan was benefiting from all that perfection at
only a fraction of what it really would’ve cost her. There were definitely
perks to being friends with Petra, she considered as she walked into the
spacious central room.

“You have?” Petra
followed close behind and threw her purse down on the granite kitchen counter
before falling lazily into the bistro chair.

“Yes. I’ve been dating
with my emotions, and not with my head.”

Confusion was evident in
every word that Petra spoke. “Isn’t...isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“No.” Her lips were drawn
in a thin line, and her matter-of-fact tone reflected the seriousness with
which she was taking the matter. “And see where it got me?”

“With a bunch of idiots
who don’t know how to be faithful?” Petra was reluctantly willing to play
along…for now.

“Exactly. So,” Opening
the cabinet, she reached for a glass. “this time I’m using my head. I’m going
to make a list of everything I want in a guy. And unless a guy I’m interested
in matches every quality, I’m not going to date him.”

 
“Simple as that.” Petra retorted, then
fell silent as her friend filled the glass with sparkling water from a clear
green bottle.

“Yep.”

While there was no doubt
this was a much more Reagan-like approach, Petra couldn’t help but to question
the validity of the new plan. “So, let me see if I understand. A guy walks up
to you, asks you out... and then you whip out a checklist from your purse to go
over before you give him your answer?” She made a face that said she didn’t
approve. “Really?”

But Reagan merely looked
at Petra as though her version of the idea were absurd. “No!” She exclaimed. “I
wouldn’t pull it out right then and there, that’s crazy. But, after the fact,
sure.”

After considering the
statement, Petra shook her head. She couldn’t distinguish the real difference -
either way her friend was one step away from jumping into the crazy pond. However,
while she may have never heard of dating by checklist before, she could tell
Reagan needed
something
feasible to
hold on to right now. Something that would make her feel in control again and
take the focus off what asshole Justin had done. It certainly wasn’t going to
hurt anything really – at least, not that she could tell - so why not
join in? “Okay, why not. But we’re going to need margaritas for this.”

She’d left no room for
debate in her statement, and had quickly jumped down from her perch, marched into
the kitchen and pulled out a full bottle of tequila from a shelf. Setting it on
the counter, she smiled back at Reagan while rummaging around for ice, mix and
a blender. “You’re going to feel so good after drinking this,” She began
pouring a generous portion of the alcohol into the pitcher, “you won’t even
remember why we started this nonsense.”