The Boyfriend List (7 page)

As the hands ticked
closer to the nine o’clock hour, and class was about to begin, Ian occupied
himself by dragging notepads and pens out of his bag. His hands were full when
his phone, set to silent, began buzzing on top of his desk. Seeing as how her
headache hadn’t quite subsided just yet, the noise was annoying the living hell
out of Reagan, who took the liberty of picking it up – despite Ian’s mild
objections – just to get it to stop.

But her finger slipped,
and she inadvertently answered the call instead. Ian’s face went white as
Reagan fumbled, unsure of what to do next. Finally, she decided the polite
thing would be to answer the phone and maybe take a message since Ian hadn’t appeared
to be interested in taking the call himself. The moment she did, and she heard
a syrupy voice filled with anger flowing from the other end, she wished she’d
just hung up after all.

“Who is this?” The girl
demanded of her.

However, knowing how to
deal with the dilemma of an aggravated female caller, one who clearly thought
she had more exclusivity with Ian than perhaps she really did, was only the
beginning of the issue. The
real
issue
dawned unexpectedly as Reagan tuned in to the candy-coated, ultra feminine tone
that oozed over the line. She’d known from day one that Ian was a pathological
flirt, she’d met several of his short-term girlfriends over the years and had
even coached him in selecting birthday and Valentine’s Day gifts that were
appropriate to the relationship. There was no getting around that fact, so to
hear a female caller on the other end shouldn’t have been any particular
surprise.

But all those times in
all those instances, she’d known her friendship with Ian had always come first.
His time with the girls would be short lived, a fact they were just as clear on
and therefore hadn’t mind sharing their time with him. They’d never been
demanding, bitchy or insecure directly to her – maybe because he’d always
protected her from it, or maybe because they’d never been around long enough to
display those traits. It was difficult to tell. Whatever the case, this girl sounded
different. Reagan could tell by her tone that she was clingy, and demanding to
a fault. There would be issues of jealousy almost right away, and for the first
time in the history of their friendship, she was feeing the brunt of it.

“Excuse me?” To say it
was a feeling she didn’t much care for was an understatement.

“Never mind. Where’s Ian?”

Not that it was really
any of Reagan’s business, but under the guise of appearing helpful…“Who is
this
?” She inquired after she’d managed
to untwist her tongue and find her voice a few seconds later.

“Tell him it’s Isabella.”
The girl purred. “He’ll remember me from last Saturday night at Mojitos.” Her tone
reflected all the innuendoes Reagan knew to be associated with the cubbyhole of
a dance club tucked away on the corner of Main and 3
^rd
, and already Reagan
felt she had a good picture of the type of girl Isabella was.

She glanced at Ian, who
appeared clueless. “Isabella from Mojito’s?” Reagan repeated, then enjoyed the
sudden flush of panic that ran over Ian’s face as his eyebrows hitched up in
curiosity. She placed a hand over the speaker and swiveled in her seat to face
him. In a voice dripping with mockery she addressed him again. “Are you
available for Isabella, Romeo?”

He rolled his blue eyes
and reached for the phone. Reagan was disappointed. Really disappointed. She
snatched it away again just before he could take it. “You can’t tell me you
don’t enjoy this this kind of attention.”

Ian had caught that same
look in Reagan’s eyes a dozen times, but had never recognized it until now. She
was jealous. Who’d have guessed? He wondered if she even realized it herself. The
corners of his mouth turned up in an evil grin. “And what if I do?”

“Here. Be quick, class is
about to begin.” Reagan spat out the words and tossed him the phone as she
turned back around, trying to block out the pleasant sound of Ian’s voice as he
carried on a more-than–friendly conversation with his new
friend
.

Disheartened even more
than she’d initially been when she woke up that morning – if that was
even possible - she sent Petra a quick text, hoping that her friend was awake.
It’s not like she’d be able to focus on this class now anyway.

Ready to begin Operation Checklist?

Within a second, she got
an enthusiastic reply:
Absolutely!

Reagan smiled, and slid
down into her seat just as the lecture began.

Wednesday

There
seemed to be some universal rule in place that when you go looking for
something, you never find it. But the moment you stop looking, it appears...
and stares you right in the face as though you were stupid for not seeing it to
begin with. Reagan, apparently, hadn’t learned the depth of that rule yet. She
and Petra had spent all day Tuesday combing the campus for eligible men,
interviewing them as though they were participating in a research study for
class. And while it’d suited Petra’s ego just fine, as they’d
both
come home with a wealth of new date
offers, it had left Reagan feeling even more hopeless than when they had
started. Within just a few minutes of conversation with each of the guys, she’d
racked up enough big, fat, red x’s on her checklist to know they weren’t someone
she was interested in pursuing.
 

Forcing
herself to look at the positive side, she decided that while she hadn’t found
her Mr. Perfect just yet, she
had
successfully
narrowed down her options. Quickly. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea after all,
she considered. It’d proven to be a great distraction, if nothing else.

But after
all the talking and interviewing and discussing she’d been doing that week,
Reagan decided what she
really
needed
– even more than a good boyfriend - was a little quiet time alone. She’d
managed to find that solace on Wednesday at one of the many picnic benches the
campus was sprinkled with, and as she closed her eyes, tuning in to the sounds
of nature, she could almost –
almost
– forget about everything else that’d been weighing on her mind.

Unfortunately,
it wasn’t meant to last. Petra had found her between classes and insisted on
joining her for lunch. “Look what I have for you!” She chirped from behind,
startling Reagan from her thoughts. In one hand, her friend was holding a brown
bag containing a fast food salad with unappetizing light dressing. In the other
hand was a pile of white papers, a few with the trademark red x on the front.
Not sure which one she was hoping against the least, Reagan bit her lip, a
quizzical expression working it’s way into her brow as she waited for Petra to deliver
the verdict.

Thankfully
– or not – Petra handed her the stack of red marked papers.

“What’s
this?” She inquired as she began thumbing through them, though she was certain
she already knew the answer.

“Six more
guys at this school you can rule out as definitely
not
being your soul mate.”

Reagan
glanced through the handwritten version of her checklist, her hope sinking just
a little bit further as she sighed. “Ugh, a lot of
no’s
, huh?” Petra made a face in disgust as she took her first bite
of leafy greens. Reagan wasn’t sure if the look was meant toward her statement,
or her friend’s tasteless salad. “How do you have time for this?”

But
Petra merely shrugged as she sipped from a plastic water bottle. “I don’t know.
Guys come up to me. I ask questions. I mark their answers.” She tilted her head
as she considered the simplicity of her system. “Seems to work pretty well
actually.”

“You
had six guys hit on you already today?”

Petra
opened her mouth to answer Reagan’s incredulous statement, but before she could
get her comment out, another friend had joined them.

“What’s
that?” Ian asked as he took a seat beside Reagan, indicating the papers in her
hand. He was carrying two little bags filled with oriental food boxes. One was
clearly for him, while the other he sat down in front of Reagan.

“What’s
this
?” Reagan countered excitedly,
using the opportunity to successfully dodge his question.

“The
best fried rice this city can make. I promise.” The wink he offered elicited a
smile from her lips.

“Thanks.”
Her eyes lit up to match the enthusiasm of her voice. “But, how’d you know
where I was?”

Saying
nothing, Ian merely looked at Petra, who smiled innocently across the table at
them. It was a sly move on her friend’s part, she’d give her that much. Shaking
her head – at them both – she opened the bag and drew out the small
boxes that were packed to every possible inch. As she twirled her chopsticks
around delicious looking noodles and popped it into her mouth, Ian used her
incapacitated ability to return to his previous question. “So what is this
anyway?”

Nearly
choking on Chinese food, she swallowed quickly and tucked the papers out of
sight into her notebook, where they were stuffed carelessly next to the others
she’d been collecting. Then, holding her notebook protectively in her lap with
her left hand guarding it closely, she picked up her fork, dove into the rice
and finally replied, “Nothing.”

“That
didn’t look suspicious or anything.” Petra rolled her eyes before turning her
focus on Ian. “It’s a checklist.” She began, but was quickly cut off.

“For Petra’s
report.” Reagan was glaring across the table at her friend. “Nothing important
really, she just wanted me to look it over. You know how I am about lists.” She
tried to laugh off the statement, but it was obvious from the other expressions
sitting around the table that her tactic hadn’t worked.

“Uh-huh.”
Ian was willing to let it appear as though he were letting the comment go. But
at the first opportunity, he snatched the notebook out of her hand. “I also
know how you are about lying.” He said as he slid to the furthest point on the
bench to investigate his curiosity for himself. “You’re horrible at it, by the
way.” Shooting her a sideways glance, he opened the book on her objection.

“See
what you started.” Reagan sighed as she addressed Petra, who looked as though
she was entirely too amused by the transaction. But there was nothing that
could be done, until the inevitable confused expression crossed Ian’s face.
Which was about to happen right about...

“What
kind of checklist is this?”

She
felt her face flush with anxious embarrassment as she watched him flipping
through the pages. Snatching the book back from him before he could get to the
one with his own name scribbled across the top, she tucked the notebook into
her bag and placed it on the ground safely away from another arrest.

“So
how’s Isabella?” Reagan teased in an attempt to change the subject. “Hear from
her lately?”

 
“Nice.” Was his only comment on the
subject, though his mood seemed to have darkened a little.

Tired
of watching the two sulk in awkward silence, Petra took the matter into her own
hands – again. “They’re checklists of people, dummy.” She shot at Ian, whose
head immediately popped up with renewed interest.

“Petra.”
Reagan’s wide-eyed look was one of sheer panic.

“I
can see that.” Ian was looking from one girl to the next, his curiosity rising.
“Why do they have a bunch of guys names on them?”

“Because
Reagan is looking for her soul mate and we’re using this to narrow down the
candidates.” The comment was as blunt as it was factual.

“Petra.”
Reagan had begun motioning with her hand for her friend to stop, making it even
more obvious to Ian that the ridiculous comments Petra was making
could
be correct. He smiled at the
concept a little, and chuckled at Reagan’s efforts to keep her stubborn friend
silent.

But Petra,
having no intention of stopping, ignored her and kept going. “She was inspired
by this random guy we met at Blue Nickel yesterday, and she thinks this will
keep her little heart from getting crushed by yet another loser like Justin.”

“Really?”
Clearly amused, he plunged his chopsticks into his food.

 
“Petra!”

“Well,
it needed to be out in the open.” Petra argued against Reagan’s look of sheer
horror. “Now it is, and we can move on with life. Oh, I almost forgot to tell
you.” She finished, suddenly bursting to tell her exciting news as the two
thoughts ran together.

But Reagan
wasn’t paying attention any longer. All she could focus on was Ian. He didn’t
look mad, or upset, or even as if he thought she was crazy – which, for
the record, she was starting to believe about herself. He was just there,
sitting next to her. Like he always had been. So why did it feel like she was
doing something wrong all of a sudden? Why did she feel like there was a
friction between them now?

“Derek
called me last night.” Petra continued without acknowledgment. “He’s coming to
my birthday party, which is this Saturday remember? Please don’t forget.”