Page 9 of Not Your Valentine
I don’t want to lose this friendship. It’s actually my longest friendship—there are other people from high school I see on occasion, but only every couple of years.
Though dating a friend is a little perilous, this is just pretend dating. Not the same at all. It’ll be fine, right? And if he shoots down the idea, sure, I’ll be somewhat embarrassed, but it won’t be anywhere close to the embarrassment of going viral. I can manage.
I think.
“This place opened in November.” He’s trying to make up for my lack of conversational prowess, I suppose. “I heard about it on one of the Instagram accounts I follow. Ten or fifteen years ago, I don’t think there were many pulled noodle places in Toronto. Now, there are tons.”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Chapter 4
In the second semester of grade nine, I walked into science class and sat at my assigned lab bench. My lab partner was already there. Taylor Li had gone to a different elementary school, and we hadn’t had any classes together in the first semester. I can’t say I was impressed when he cheerfully introduced himself and kept trying to make small talk.
But a few weeks later, I somehow knocked an empty Erlenmeyer flask onto the floor, and I must have had a panicked expression because Taylor took one look at me and announced to the entire class that the broken flask was his fault.
That was the first time he lied for me, and now, I’m asking him to do it again. I’m not usually so uncomfortable around Taylor, but this whole situation has me off my game.
“Sorry, could you repeat the question?” he says, and then it’s his turn to shove too-hot noodles into his mouth. He winces.
“Are you seeing anyone right now?” I ask.
“No.”
“Okay, good.” I pause. “I mean, it’s not actually good because you’re my friend, and if you want a relationship, I want you to have one, but if you did have a girlfriend, this might be hard to pull off.” I drink some tea for courage. “Will you pretend to be my boyfriend?”
There’s silence between us, and my face flames.
“Forget it,” I say. “I just—”
“No, no. I’m intrigued. Why do you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”
“Because I haven’t dated anyone since last Valentine’s Day when…you know.”
“Ah.” He looks at me with kindness, but not as if he pities me.
“Some of my friends and family and acquaintances…they seem concerned that I haven’t moved on. I have moved on—it’s not as if I’m hung up on Charlie—but I don’t think I can convince them of that and avoid their sympathetic looks until I actually have another boyfriend. I spontaneously told Vin—”
“Who’s Vin?”
“The guy at the bubble tea shop. I told him that I have a boyfriend, and it seemed to make him happy, which gave me the idea…”
I’m not sure I’m making any sense at all, but Taylor seems to be following. “What, exactly, would being your fake boyfriend involve?”
“Oh, not much.” I try to sound breezy, which isn’t something that ever comes naturally to me. “You just have to be okay with me telling other people that we’re dating, take a few pictures with me to post on Instagram. That sort of thing. I’ll buy myself some flowers and say they’re from you when I post the picture.”
Taylor frowns.
Dammit. My plan is just too weird, isn’t it? “I—”
“If I’m your boyfriend,” he interrupts, “I’ll buy the flowers myself.”
“Well, if you were my real boyfriend, yes, but since you’re my fake boyfriend—”
“Still. I’ll do it.”
“Uh, well, thank you.” I stammer. There was an uncharacteristic intensity in his words that caught me off guard, and for a second, I wonder what it would be like if we actually dated…
No. We’re friends. It’s not a risk I’d take, and besides, our relationship has never been like that. For starters, it’s not as if I find him attractive. I mean, he’s not unattractive, but I don’t think of him that way.
