My Perfect Fake-Boyfriend

Rap Battle With A Tree Lion

It’s Monday. And I was considering faking a fever, it’s just- 

Who am I going to sit with at lunch? Or walk with between classes? If I was still dating someone, I wouldn’t be alone. I wouldn't be considering faking a fever. If I was still dating someone we wouldn’t even have had the stupid idea that we were jinxed. 

Fear of commitment? 

Ha! They just don’t get my logic, no matter how many times I explain myself. Compatibility can be formed even confused as love or attraction but Love is in it's own category. I want Love. The instant, make you melt, heart racing, cheeks flushing feeling. As a scientist I shouldn't be thinking like this, I should be thinking that love can be made. People change, and if people change together it will only make sense for them to develop to suit each other. It's just-looking at it like that fills me with sadness like...like love is just something to make our life go faster. I think love is eternal. Maybe even in the concept of soulmates. I pull the covers over my head and sink deeper into my bed.  

What were the terms and conditions of this...experiment again?

Seperating, only at school.

29-31 days. 

Less taking away weekends, 

20 or so days. 

I have to befriend a boy platonically or commit myself to a boy. 

Hmm, I really should have more guy-friends. According to Sydney the ones I have don't count.

She tosses a braid over her shoulder. 

"No. you need more actual guy friends. With boys you don't flirt with. The ones you have right now don't count"

I frown, "I'm not a flirt."

"Yes, you are." Sydney says "It's not even on purpose" she sighs like I was aggravating her. "You are just super nice and sweet and pretty that people are like 'dang she's flirting with me'. You can't help it. You like teasing people. You like getting a reaction."

The horn beeped but she didn't move and neither did I.

"You flirt with everyone." she consoles, "even me."

I balk at this. "I don't!" I falter at seeing her sympathetic expression "Oh my god, do I?"

She races to the car. 

And I call after her, "Only because you are so hot!"

Might as well own up to it.

“Are you awake?” my dad calls from the kitchen. Apparently, yelling was only acceptable from a distance not to make a point. Whatever, he makes his own rules. 

“Maybe” I answer in Spanish. 

My Spanish wasn’t bad, in fact I was fluent. I just didn’t understand the Spanish accent. They talked in a stilted way. Hispanics talked from the belly, which is much easier to understand. According to my dad, Americans talked from their throat. 

I used to speak my English with the Spanish vowels. That made any words heavy, like my dad’s. I was 7, and probably the only kid with that type of English. I was so insecure of my own voice to ever express myself. And it drove me mad, so with some effort. My voice went to the typical American tongue. I think papi was a little disappointed, he doesn’t want me to lose my connection to Ecuador. 

To his home, his homeland. His culture. 

Despite the news and whatever he hears. Ecuador was perfect, I've been there a few times. And I got to see it from his eyes, his eyes overlooked the grimy benches and threat of pickpockets straight to the smell of a family bakery, the coffee, the graffitied walls and schools holding more memories than his own house. 

If I lived in Ecuador, I would be taking the bus to school. Probably wearing a uniform and walking in a group.  

It was only because of my sulking that I heard the gentle buzzing of my phone, plugged to my charger across the room. And it was only because of my phone’s buzzing that I crawled out of bed and unlocked my screen. And it was only because of the text from Emma, saying that she wasn’t going to pick me up that I hurried to get dressed. 

And it was only because of my being hurried that I wore a band tee with skinny jeans. My most generic outfit. I spent a decent amount of time on my makeup. 

And it was only because of my sartorial choice that I was able to bike to school in time.  

In time for the warning bell. I had three minutes to get to class and I had a choice. Either go for my locker, which is at the other side of the school, or go straight to class and avoid getting a tardy. 

I went straight to class, I had Mr. Mans for first period today. He keeps extra textbooks at the back of his room, hopefully he will cut me some slack. 

He didn’t. 

“Ms. Lopez, please explain to the class why you are late.” 

“I also don’t have my textbook.” I add, unhelpfully. 

Mr. Mans leaned back and nodded “Yes, explain why you are tardy and unprepared.” 

“Well sir. My ride cancels on me last minute, so I ride my bike to school. And I’m on my way here when a duck stops me. Sir, you should have seen it. It was angry, and it was quacking at my bike. So, like any sane person I screeched, jumped off my bike and climbed a tree. But it turns out a Tree Lion was already lying there and we had to rap battle for dominance over the tree. I couldn’t figure out what rhymes with dinosaur so I lost. Luckily by then, the duck was gone and I was able to peacefully continue my trip to this beloved school.” I don’t know how I managed to keep a straight face, but I did. Pushing my luck, I add “Since my locker is so far away, I came straight to class.” 

Mr. Man’s was smiling. “Children, if you can come up with a story as entertaining as that one. You wont get tardies from me.”  

I stood there, keeping busy by reading the board. Ah, poetry unit. 

“Anything else, Felicity?” 

“I don’t have a textbook.” 

“Yes, you can sit beside Dario” 

“Huh?” 

Snickers arose around the classroom. My spectacle earlier wasn’t like the me they knew at all. This was. 

I just nod and sit besides Dario. He had a spare seat next to him.  

“Is this seat taken?” I whisper to him. 

The classroom is seated in pairs. My pair is on a week trip to India and won’t be back till next Tuesday. I find it hard to believe that he doesn’t have a pair. 

“Not today.” He whispers, he, like my dad also, had Spanish vowels. But on him it sounded cool, hot even. I would have sounded like a weirdo. 

I was about to ask who usually sat in this seat when Mr. Man’s called our attention to the front. I turned to face him and listened to him go on about the importance of poetry. 

“Lets start simple. Turn to the person next to you. He or she will be your partner for the rest of this unit.” 

--- 

I waited for everyone to start on the project when I raised my hand for his attention. 

“Yes, Felicity?” 

“Um, Mr. Mans. Vari isn’t here today, she is in India for the week.” 

Mr. Mans blinked at me, “Vari moved to Mississippi last week.” 

I blushed hard. “Right. Anyway, it’s my understanding that Dario already has a seat partner and-” 

“It will be a trio. Just drag a seat to this duo. I’m sure Yuri won’t mind.” 

Yuri hated my guts. 

 “Right, cool.” 

Dario kindly didn’t mention my lack of knowledge about my classmates and we brainstormed for the project. 

 --- 

I wasn't known to be perceptive of others. At least not of strangers. Sue me. But I did know how to write a pretty haiku.

“Sunflower”

A strong, bright weed

Blossoms through the racket

So bright, so strong.

"Very impressive, Ms. Lopez. But that isn't the assignment."

I bink. 

I point at the board, "It says; Write a haiku."

"You were late," he reminds "that was the Do Now. Right now you should be working on the assignment." He flips to the next clean page. And take a worksheet that was placed between Dario and I. I stare at it, reading it but not registering anything. I am suddenly very tired. 

Muffling a yawn with the palm of my hand I look back up at Mr. Mans.

"Heard any interesting rumors lately? About you being lame and such?"

In my peripheral I notice Dario look up.

Mr. Mans turns away but I see a ghost of a smile, "No. Have you heard any rumors about you being a nerd-"

"Shhh!" I shush, looking around wearily. "Honestly, I'm not going to stop until you do."

"Then don't." He shrugs, "I'm too popular to be taken down anyway."

I frown, "That's my line."

He was already walking away then. 

"I was wondering why you were dissing Mr. Mans in the caf the other day." Dario whispers "It makes sense now."

I glance at his notebook which was filled with neat handwriting, I notice a familiar name in the corner. 

Samantha.

He was perfect. For the project I mean, he wasn't interested (for obvious reasons), he was cute but not my type. He can be my guy-friend!

Freshly invigorated I read the assignment, making sure to pay attention to every detail.