My Perfect Fake-Boyfriend

That's just Insanity

To my delight Yuri takes her sweet time getting out of there, "Uhm, Yuri?” 

She stops in her tracks but doesn’t turn around, when I don’t say anything, she turns to face me. Her eyebrows raised, “yes?” 

She had a subtle intimidating beauty, her features weren't anything extreme or note-worthy. Her eyelashes were short and thick. Her face make-up free. She could rub her eyes without worrying about messing up her makeup.

“Vari moved a while back so I’m partners with you and Dario. I just thought you should know. And, uhm, thanks for, you know the whole Sebastian-thing.” 

“Okay.” 

I open my mouth to say something but then close it. My tongue is rendered useless before her.  

She leaves the classroom and I grab my bag, hurrying after her.

“I-Did I do something?” I call after her “To piss you off?” 

She freezes and barely looking over her shoulder when she says “Why would you think that?” 

It was so painfully fake.

She wasn't fake.

Not Yuri, with her loud opinions, don't take sh*t from no one attitude.

People were pushing by and between us and that was enough reason for her to leave. I didn’t call after her. 

… 

She was really really pretty. Not just pretty as in pretty, but an intelligent beauty. Her cheekbones weren’t as pronounced as mine but they were delicate looking and her jaw looked fragile. Her smooth tan skin appeared to be fragile and her wide brown eyes were surrounded by thick eyelashes.  

They were hidden by big black frames and she was currently eating croissants on the foreign exchange student program. In France. Paris, France.  

She was a senior. 

And her names is Samantha Alvarez.  

God, even her name is gorgeous. 

I wasn’t being insecure. I think I'm just as attractive as Samantha. And I wasn’t even looking for her i********:. I was just scrolling through mine and saw someone tag Dario. And figuring if I want to befriend him, I should probably follow him. 

But I already had.  

I don’t remember it happening. I’m pretty cautious when it comes to my social media, but I must’ve clicked on his name without thinking twice.  

I scroll through his pictures. No selfies. At least no solo selfies. Some of them were him posing in a very suave manner then posting a ridiculous comment. Others were pictures of family and food. I only had to swipe the scroll bar once to see a bunch of pictures of Samantha. 

 Okay, fine only like 7 pictures. But they were like 30 pictures in total. 

I click on her account.  

It was public, unlike his. And all traces of Dario and any romantic linking was erased. 

Or perhaps never there. 

....

I pay close attention the next few days. To his interactions. To his friends. To his conversations.

Pity was what got me to notice. 

Notice that for a boy who is as kind and attractive as Dario, not many girls were paying him much attention.  

And the fact that he was a target for friendship made it easier for me to ask him about it the next day.   

Yuri was there, but she seemed observed in her books so I didn’t bother using a filter. 

"What?"

“I said” I repeat “why are you still single?” 

He wrinkles his brow attractively, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you're hot.” 

“That’s flattering.” 

“I’m being honest,” I persist, then pause noticing his brightened cheeks. Was I being too flirty? This was how I was generally with girls and boys. And I only had interest in boys. Maybe this was how it all went wrong. Maybe I should treat him less...friendly? “What I mean is that you're- a good guy, good-looking. A real catch. I just don’t get why you are still single.” 

Him pining over his ex, was very much a possibility. 

So was him pining for his best friend. 

“Not everyone needs to be in a relationship 24/7.” Yuri snaps, snapping her book shut 

I frown at the implication. 

“Yuri.” Dario’s voice was stern and disapproving. I didn't dare look his way. 

I fan my face because I was hot. I rode my bike, again. And I decided that wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a scarf, boots and jeans was a good route. 

I just really wanted to wear that outfit and I didn’t want to ride in my dad’s car. It reeked of cologne and his best friend’s cigarettes. 

Yes, Mr. Mans i'm looking at you.

“I don’t need to be in a relationship 24/7” I tell Yuri, hating how quiet my voice was. I tried to speak louder but my voice was tight. "I'm not in a relationship half the time."

I’m such a crybaby.  

“Alright?” I snap. 

I take a long drink of water from my hydro flask. I was very much aware of my cycle. Sadness, need to cry, Anger, Snappish. Fighting. Apologizing. 

I hated it, hated the way my mind and entire being responded to being hurt. 

(But I was so tired of being hurt.) 

I hated how weak it was. My need to inflict the damage done to me to someone else. Even if they are deserving of it. Especially if they are undeserving. 

(But they shouldn't have made me feel like this in the first place.)

I heard how you shouldn’t date a man who destroys you when he is angry, that it is weak. 

The same thing must apply to women. 

I didn’t always do it. Snap back, I mean. I usually bit it down. But the need to do it was always a dominant feeling. 

I hated that too. 

People say you should judge people by their actions and not their thoughts. 

I don’t think that is quite right. 

“She knows that. Everyone does.” Dario says to me, his voice was low. “She’s just in a sour mood." 

At least I'm not the only one who snaps that way. 

“Whatever.”  

I turn to look at the blank notebook in front of me. 

I wanted to write a poem about Yuri but now I doubted it would be anything nice. 

I highly doubt Mr. Mans would appreciate me doing a poem in honor of Horse Poop. 

“I’m doing my poem about you, “Yuri speaks up, I look up to see her pointing her tiny bony little finger at me. 

She then points to Dario, “you’re doing it about me” 

And she points to me, “And you’re doing him.” 

Was my mind the only one that thought of dirty, unsaintly-like things? 

Dario’s indifference and Yuri’s serene face say that yes, just me. 

“Whatever.” I say, because I really don’t care.  

“What’s your favorite color?” she fires off, her eyes glinting like she expected me to be off-put. 

I wasn’t. 

“Always changes. Today it’s” my eyes can the room to see if a color is standing out, one is. The pale bright grey of the metal desk legs. “the metallic grey of the desk legs.” 

She writes something down. 

“Alright. Favorite thing to do on a Sunday morning?” 

Where was she getting her questions from? 

Her page was blank except for the line she just scribbled into it. . 

“I like making brunch.” 

“Favorite song?” 

I answer each of her questions at spit-fire speed.  

Her: Favorite Disney Movie?

Me: Mulan.

Her: Favorite Theme Song?

Me: Phineas and Ferb.

Her: Favorite Fruit?   

Me: Mango.

Her: Pet Peeve?

Me: People who follow stereotypes.

(...things got more heated after that.)

Her: Favorite Boyfriend?

Me: Joshua, until he was gay.

Her: Favorite First Date Place?

Me: An amusement park.

Her: Favorite teacher?

Me: Does my dad count?

Her: Old stuff. Do you donate, sell or keep?

Me: Depends on what the stuff means to me.

Dario speaks up, I look at him grateful. I needed a drink of water. 

"Yuri, I finished a poem.."

"Read it." she demands.

He clears his throat and smiles at me, like we were in on a secret.

"My best friend

Angry and tiny.

Loud and high-pitched.

Repetitive,

Stuck in my head,

My best friend,

A female dog"

Yuri gasps then starts laughing. Dario explodes into cackles. And I can't help my snicker.

"You-you called me a b***h!" Yuri gasps trying to keep her face serious.

Dario looks mock offended, "I was referring to Alya. Do you really think that everything revolves around you?"

"Yes!" 

Dario puts his brown hands up, grinning a white big grin "Fine. You got me. But to be fair you were acting like one."

And to my utter amazement, she looks chastised.

They are a match made in Heaven.

"You're right." she says, looking at us. she focuses on me, her expression- for the first time in many years-sincere "I'm sorry. I swear i'm not this much of a headcase all the time."

Dario mutters a "sure" but was grinning widely. 

"It's okay. We're cool." I really want to ask her why she was mad at me in the first case but that would probably fracture any friendship we could possibly have. "Acquaintances?"

"Acquaintances" she affirms. She fiddles with her sleeve for a second before looking up an asking, "Why do you go to detention if you don't have it?"

My friends and I are a living breathing science experiment.

I shrug, taking my scarf from my neck and wrapping it into a tight ball "I got the baggril rep to uphold."

Dario considers this, then nods "Would you like to be our lunch tables resident bad girl. Yuri kind of lost her street cred when she wore that shirt." He nods at Yuri's Minion shirt.

Was he...pity asking me to sit with them?

Did  I...look pathetic?

I shoot a quick check on my reflective phone case.

Impossible.

I look hot.  

But don't people pity actors? Hot or not.

"I'm good-"

"Unless" Yuri says over me "you rather Sebastian's company."

That shut me up.

Sebastian or pity table?

Sebastian or pity table?

Sebastian...or pity table?

Was Sebastian annoying enough to scare my pride into accepting the offer?

Could my sanity survive another day with his taunts and stupid jokes?

...

"Idiots!" Yuri yelled loudly "This is a new recruit. Meet Felicity. I'm sure you guys have heard of her."

I nod to the two guys I sort a dated and sit next to Yuri.

My pride was injured, yes. But my insanity was in check. 

I'll take that win.