“London, you’re the most
graceful person I know. You took professional ballet lessons. I’ve never seen
you fall. Like, ever.” Nina was busy preparing a homemade icepack for me with a
plastic bag and some ice tray cubes.
I managed to hobble into
our one-story brick house and plant myself on the couch. I needed more than ice
after the performance I gave today.
“I used to be the most graceful
person you knew. I can’t remember the last time I fell. Probably when I learned
to ride my bike.” I winced as she held the icepack on my leg.
“At least it’s not
bikini season. That’s going to look terrible.”
“Thanks.” She was right.
I could already feel a goose-egg size knot forming under my jeans.
“Tell me. What’s the
project? I’ve got some time before I have to catch the bus for lab.” She had
collected a few throw pillows from around the living room and handed them to me
on the couch.
Just the mention of
Communication 224 sent a wave of nausea through my system.
“It’s terrible. I don’t
know what I’m going to do. The nutty professor used an experimental computer
program to pair us off in class. Then each group was assigned
a reality show for the semester. We have to prove whether the show is real or
just part of Hollywood commercialism by living out the show. She told us to be it. Whatever that
means.”
“Really? That’s it? What
show did you get?” Nina’s eyes lit up. She would have been perfect for the
assignment. She was America’s resident reality TV fan. The only reason I had
even heard of half of the shows was because of her.
“Love
Match.”
I should have covered my
ears. The squeal from my roommate was the high pitch equivalent of a howling
banshee. “Love Match? I love that show! The
dates are so romantic and the guys are so cute. Everyone falls in love and they
travel all over the world. There are private jets and champagne. Oh, you’re so lucky you got
that one.” Nina was getting more excited with each detail she shared.
“Calm down. It’s not
that great. I didn’t tell you about my partner.”
“Oh, who did you get?
Tell me he is super hot.”
“Beau Anderson.” I moved
the pack of ice farther down my thigh.
“Wait. You mean the guy who wrote the bucket list
blog?”
“Yeah, but that’s not
all. He’s not only Bucket List Guy, he’s also Bike Guy.”
“What? The guy from last
week who plowed you down is Beau Anderson and he’s your Communication 224
partner?” Nina was laughing.
“What’s so funny? Are
you laughing at me? I’m in pain over here and panicking about this class.”
“Stop worrying, London.
But really, what are the chances you would get paired up with him?”
“It’s not going to be
that bad, right? I really need this grade.” And I needed a dousing of Nina’s
reassurance.
“You’re going to be
fine. Love Match is my favorite. I’ll
walk you through it, one candlelit step at a time. No worries.” Everyone loved
this show.
I was relieved. At least
I could count on Nina’s love for bad TV to pull me through.
“Tell me. What’s Beau
like? I’ve never seen him.”
I thought about my new
partner. With all of the confusion and theatrics in class, I hadn’t really noticed
much about him. Well, not much other than he must be a human heater. T-shirts
in icy January kind of stood out. Then there were those
perfectly sculpted arms. I could feel my cheeks warming again.
“He’s a guy.”
“That’s it?” Nina
carried her backpack to the front door. She sounded disappointed.
“Yeah, I mean he looks
like any guy on campus. Brown hair, brown eyes. Not that interested in
class—you know—a guy.”
“Huh. That’s too bad. I
thought that
maybe someone who came
up with all of that cool stuff on the list would be hot. You know, for your
sake.” She giggled and clutched her bus pass.
I wasn’t sure why I held
back on the arm details or the dark eyes—they were definitely worth mentioning,
but Beau Anderson was just like every other guy I had met in my other classes.
They were in school for things unrelated to expanding their academic horizons.
I couldn’t see how he was any different.
“No, not hot. Sorry to
ruin your little blogger crush. You better go. You’ll miss the bus.”
“You sure you’re ok by
yourself? I can skip lab if I need to stay and help you.”
“I’m good. I think a nap
is in order.” I shimmied into the assortment of pillows on the couch. The sun
still wasn’t shining and it was freezing outside. With both roommates out of
the house, a nap was a perfect end to this Bronte-esque afternoon.
“I’m jealous. Ok, I’ll
see you after class.” Nina closed the door behind her.
I nestled into the couch
and pulled the quilt nicknamed, “ugly quilt,” around my shoulders. Candace’s
grandmother had given it to her when we moved into the house last year. The
three of us spent the entire summer before our junior year planning our house
décor. We wanted it to look retro chic, which is challenging on a college
student budget. Candace did her best to fake a smile when she opened the
package from her grandmother that arrived during the first week of classes. We
laughed so hard that the three of us were in
tears making fun of the orange and brown patches sewn together with pink
thread. It was never supposed to be visible in the living room, but after a
late night movie fest, I discovered it was comfy and warm. I became the
champion defender of Ugly Quilt, and it had a spot on
the back of the couch ever since.
My eyes closed, and somewhere in my
mind’s replay of the awkward meeting with Beau, I fell asleep.
***
Through the fog of my
afternoon nap, I thought I heard the distant sound of my phone ringing. I
shoved Ugly Quilt away and fished for my cell on the floor next to the couch.
I swiped at the screen.
“Hello?”
“London? Did I wake you
up or something?” I didn’t recognize the male voice on the other end of the
call.
“Um. Who is this?”
“Beau. Your Comm
partner.”
I blinked hard. It was
dark outside and I had no idea how long I had been sleeping. My leg was aching, and the icepack Nina
had made was a bag of room temperature water.
“Oh yeah. Hey, Beau.
What’s up?” I realized that I didn’t add his number to my contacts after he
called me in Manning.
“I was just talking to my
roommate, and his girlfriend is over here. Anyway, I told them about Love
Match
and she’s a huge fan.” I was starting to feel like maybe I was the only girl on
campus who didn’t watch the dating show. “She said there’s a marathon on
tonight on the Timeless Channel. Maybe I could come over and we could watch it.
Get caught up before the new season starts.”
I shook the sleepy fog
from my head. “Ok. Sounds good. When does it start?”
“In an hour, I think. Where do you
live?”
“I’m off campus, just a
few blocks back from Franklin Street off Mallette.”
“Cool. Just text me the
address and I’ll see you soon.” He hung up before I could respond.
I saved his number in my
contacts, then opened the screen to text him our address. I noticed there were
three missed texts from Nina.
Derek needs help with
the read throughs. I’ll be at the theater late if you want to meet us.
An hour later, there was another one.
No one else is here, so
don’t meet us. This might be my chance. Hope your leg is better.
I tried to picture Nina
tearing Derek away from his playwriting obsession to focus on her in the Graham
basement. She was probably going to be there for hours just working up the
courage to make a move on him.
I typed a quick response.
Good luck. I want the
deets.
I thought about letting
her know about the impromptu TV date with Beau. It wasn’t a date, it was
homework, but I hesitated. Nina would make something out of it.
I folded Ugly Quilt and
placed it back on the couch. I
surveyed the room. It was fairly neat. We spent most of our time in our
bedrooms and only used the living room to watch TV or movies. Candace was the
messiest, so with her out of the house it was easier to keep it presentable. I
wondered what Pearce thought of her housekeeping skills.
I boiled a pot of water
and tossed in some spaghetti noodles. Within fifteen minutes, I had a gourmet
Italian meal ready to eat. I sat at the kitchen table, spinning my pasta on my
fork while I pulled up the bucket list Beau wrote a few weeks ago on my laptop.
Some of the things
seemed tame: “Take your picture
with Rameses.” Ok, that was one I had always wanted to do. He was the school’s
cuddly mascot.
I read one of the items
buried in the list: “Hook up
in Davis Library.”
What? Who was this guy?
He actually made a list that encouraged students to shack
up on campus at the library—that
was ridiculous and gross. I was right when I told Nina he was just like every
other guy I met at school.
I continued reading
through the list: “Have a picnic in the arboretum at night.” Ok, that one
sounded slightly romantic.
I cleared the table and
rinsed my bowl before placing it in the dishwasher. The doorbell rang.
I pulled back the heavy
wooden door. Beau stood on the porch under our single lightbulb.
“Hey. Can I come in?”
“Oh yes. Sure. Come on
in.”
He breezed past me,
tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a T-shirt
in our school colors, light blue.
“Nice place. Do you have
roommates?”
“Thanks. Yes. I have two.
But they are out right now. Want something to drink?”
Beau took a spot in the
middle of the couch and leaned into Ugly Quilt. I fought the urge to reach
behind him and grab my cuddle blanket.
“Sure. You have a beer?”
I had no idea if we had
any beer. My grocery shopping usually consisted of juice, pasta, and cereal. I
thought I remembered Candace buying some for Pearce just in case he was ever at
our house. I shuffled through Chinese food containers and a bag of browning
lettuce. There it was. A six pack of tall brown bottles. I grabbed one for my
guest, but before I closed the fridge, I picked up a second.
I handed him the cold
bottle and watched as he placed the edge of the cap on the coffee table and
slapped the lid with his left hand. He tossed the cap in the center of the
table and took a swig.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I followed the same
steps as I had seen Beau just perform. Placing the lip of the beer cap on the
edge of the table, I whacked the lid with my left hand. Instead of freeing my
lid from the bottle, I sent the entire bottle to the floor and with it a bubbly
puddle. Well, now he probably knew I had never opened a beer before.
“Shit,” I muttered under my
breath while I darted to the kitchen to grab some paper towels. I started mopping
up the sticky liquid.
“Here. Let me help you.
Looks like you’re having a rough day.” Beau pulled a handful of the towels from
my hand. “First beer?”
“How could you tell?”
“It might have been how
you placed the bottle on the table like you were getting ready to perform
surgery.” He laughed. “That was serious concentration.”
I took the dripping mess
from his hands. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
My refillable water
bottle was in the drying rack next to the sink. I placed it under the faucet
and waited for the water to reach the top. Beer was off the list for tonight.
Plus, it was better for my vocal chords to stay hydrated.
When I returned to the
living room, Beau had already cued the TV to the Timeless Channel. I took a sip
of water and sat opposite of him in the recliner. I eyed Ugly Quilt.
“It’s getting ready to
start.”
I watched floating rose
petals and candlelight fill the screen. Before the show even began, I had made
up my mind—this was not reality.
A handsome blue-eyed man
in a tailored silver suit began speaking. “Welcome. I’m your host, Mitch
Henderson. On tonight’s episode of Love Match, our bachelor, Toby, is
down to three bachelorettes: Roxanne, Julie, and Victoria. But who will he
choose? Is Julie’s past too much for him to handle? Is Roxanne here for the
right reasons? Find out on tonight’s dramatic
episode of Love Match.” The montage of date
clips flashed across the screen.
I saw Beau take another
sip of beer and roll his eyes.
Once the introductory
segment was over, the show launched into a date with the bachelor and one of
the girls. He walked along the shoreline of a tropical island and stared into
the waves while the girl rushed ashore on a jet ski, squealing and laughing.
The two devoured each other in the surf and I thought Toby might dismantle the
girl’s bikini right there. I grimaced as the petting got heavier. After a few
more seconds, they finally jumped on the jet ski and raced out to a yacht, where they spent the
day feeding each other grapes, swimming with dolphins, and inhaling champagne.
Beau placed his empty
bottle on the table. “Mind if I get another?” It was a commercial break, but I
needed a break from the mushy gushy content too.
“Sure. Back of the
fridge.”
He turned the corner for
the kitchen. My mind paced through options for our project. I had only seen
fifteen minutes of the show, but it couldn’t possibly be real. I had never seen
anyone in real life act like those two.
Beau knocked the top off
the beer just as date number two commenced. This time Toby was harnessed to the
edge of a cliff overlooking waterfalls, when one of the girls rode up on a
horse. She dismounted and jumped into his arms, repelling gear and all. Wait,
did he just shove his tongue down her throat? He was doing that
yesterday with Victoria. Horrified, I watched as he strapped his date into a
harness so they could repel down the cliff tandem-style. The poor girl
was in tears, but the hunky bachelor assured her if they could get through
this, their relationship could handle anything. I wanted to ask him if it could
handle Victoria and Roxanne.
With only twenty minutes
left in the show, Toby met his third date of the episode in a classic
convertible. Roxanne jumped and clapped when he revved the engine and slid
across the hood to spin her around in his arms. The short sundress she had on flared up and I was sure his hand was under that
skirt. I kept my eyes straight ahead and didn’t look at Beau. Toby and Roxanne
spent the day in a field of wild flowers, sorting through the most perfectly
packed picnic basket I had ever seen. Roxanne even made matching bracelets out
of flowers. I choked on my water when Toby promised to keep it forever. He
tucked it in the pocket over his heart.
In the final segment of
the show, the three girls stood side
by side, holding each other’s hand. Toby strolled into the candlelit room with
a furrowed brow. He exchanged a handshake with blue-eyed Mitch and presented
his beloved trio with a choked up speech. He preceded to hand out roses to two
of the girls—the ones that made the cut after the last round of dates. Julie
was out and Roxanne and Victoria hugged, knowing they were the final two in the
race to win Toby’s heart.
“Ok. I don’t think I can
watch another episode of this tonight. How many are there?” I looked at Beau.
“I think two more. But I
know he’s going to pick Roxanne.”
“Roxanne? But they had
the worst date in the wildflower field. I didn’t see any connection there
at all.”
Beau laughed. “For
someone who’s never watched this, you’re kinda into it.”
“No. Not into it. It’s
just we watched the whole episode and I didn’t see anything between them.
Besides, how do you know he chooses Roxanne in the end?”
“My roommate’s
girlfriend told me. Victoria is the new bachelorette. She’s the one we’ll be
watching all season when the episodes start next week.”
“Oh.” I had no idea how
this show worked and I was probably more confused now that I had seen an
episode. Nina needed to help me with this.
“Do you have any ideas
for the project? We have to prove if this is real or not—and include class
theory,”
he added.
This couldn’t be real.
How could Toby have been with all three of those girls and then propose to just
one at the end? The show had to be a concocted phony. People don’t fall in love
like that.
“It’s fake. It has to
be.” I was certain. “I know acting when I see it. I’ve been on stage long
enough to know those people aren’t having real feelings.”
“I agree. But how do we
prove it?”
“Hear me out. This might
sound crazy.” I couldn’t believe what I was getting ready to say. “You know how
Professor Garcia wants us to be the show? What if we
date?”
“What?” Beau sat up.
“Not really date, but
date like they do on the show. We’ll try to go on the same kind of dates they
do and we’ll prove that you can’t force people to have feelings just by putting
them in romantic situations. Since neither of us believes it’s real, we’re going
into this on the same page.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it could
work. We copy their dates each week.”
“We’ll work in some
theory from class. And we can even blog about it. That can be our social media
component. I’ll write about the date from a girl’s perspective and you give the
guy’s take. It’s perfect.”
“I’m in.”
“Good. We have a deal.”
“Yep.” Beau raised his
beer to my water bottle until they tapped.
I smiled. I could see
the A for Communication 224 on my transcript now.
