Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) (3 page)

Anyway, after all the good times we shared, she suddenly wanted to change things.

She picked up her pen and began to write. “Let’s see,” she said, thinking out loud. “Attractive single parent…”

I made a face.

“What?”

“It’s that word,
attractive
.”

“You think I’m ugly?”

“No, no, of course not. You’re beautiful, Mom. But if you lead with
attractive
you sound vain. Think about it. The first thing you mention is your looks. You sound like one of those botox bimbos.
Ooh, look at me, I’m so cute
.”

Suze stared at me a moment and then nodded. “Hadn’t thought of that. Good catch.” She started over: “Intelligent…”

I made a face.

“What now?”

“You sound like a snob.”

“Because I say I’m intelligent?”

“Mom, you know how boys are. They like to think they’re the smart ones. I’d hate for you to miss out on a good date because Mr. Perfect was feeling a little insecure the day he read your questionnaire.”

She started over again, and for the next hour and a half, I challenged every word she wrote: Sincere…
means insincere
; clever…
gay
; Sensitive…
crazy
; loves life…
loves
sex
, industrious…
means you have no time for him
, caring…
means you have too much time for him
. After a while she became so frustrated, she threw up her hands and asked me to take over filling out the questionnaire.

Perfect, I thought. For the next ten minutes I carefully crafted a sentence that, while seemingly alluring, sent a subtle yet firm message to men to stay away from my mother. Finished, I handed over the questionnaire and smiled proudly.

She read aloud: “Unattractive mother of five seeks man with money.”

She stared silently down at the questionnaire. A slight crease appeared in her brow. After a while, she took a few deep breaths then looked up at me with a confused expression.

“You know, Mom, I’m getting a sense you’re not fully appreciating the important message that statement is making.”

“You’re right, hon. I’m not. Care to explain?”

“Certainly. By saying you’re unattractive, you’re not going to get any of those shallow types who are only interested in a woman for her looks.  And if five kids doesn’t scare him off, then you know he’s into children. What a pleasant surprise when he discovers it’s just me. And okay, maybe I went a bit too far with the money thing. I just don’t want a guy dating you for your money.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Like I said, I probably went a bit far with that one.”

All of a sudden she began laugh. “Megan, Megan, Megan. For a minute there, you had me. But now I see. It’s a joke. I mean, if I wrote something like that,
nobody
would go out with me.”

“Really?” Okay, I guess I wasn’t subtle enough.

“Very funny, hon, but I think I’d better fill this out on my own. Are you sure this is all right with you?” she asked for like the thirteenth time.

I suppose that was the perfect opportunity to bring up how I was feeling about our open relationship being a bit too open for me, about how I didn’t want to hear that she admired men’s butts, or that she was going to go out on dates, and how if she ever went on a date, I did not want to hear the gory details. And then there were my darker thoughts, about how I liked that it was just the two of us and didn’t see why things needed to change.

Had I known what was coming, I would have told her my true feelings right then and there. But I didn’t know. So I said: “It was a joke, Mom. I’m cool.”

“Very funny,” she repeated, then she sat down and began filling out the questionnaire.

It was the beginning of the end.

 “You didn’t look like an idiot.”

 Tuesday morning, Erin and I were standing by our lockers changing out our books for first period. She was trying her best to console me about my embarrassment the day before with the new boy. But I played the incident over in my mind a dozen times and idiot was all I could see.

“Okay, then what did I look like?”

“Hmm. You looked like someone who’d forgotten how to smile.”

“Perfect,” I rasped glumly.

“Who’s perfect… besides me?” Matt walked up stinky from track practice and not caring whom he offended.

“Not me, that’s for sure.” I explained how I had embarrassed myself in front of the new boy. “But that’s okay. Erin saw him first, anyway.”

“Erin?” Matt’s expression soured.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Matt was not amused. “Megan needs a boyfriend right now. Tell her it’s okay.”

We were both stunned by what he’d said. I mean, I always knew Matt looked out for me, but something else was going on here.

“Excuse me,” said Erin. “Like
I
don’t?”

“Megan needs something to take her mind off Suze becoming man crazy.”

Okay,
man crazy
was stretching it a bit, but I liked the sentiment.

“Besides,” he said. “You can have a boyfriend any time you want.”

“I
can?
I’m glad you know it because I don’t see any boys beating down my door. And for the last time, I am not dating a mathlete,” Erin fired back.

“You make me sick!” Matt practically spat the words at her, then he stormed off.

We watched him in silence for a long, awkward moment.

“What was that all about?” Erin finally said.

“Maybe he had a bad track practice.”

“That’s no reason to take it out on me.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” But that wasn’t true.  I was pretty sure I knew what was up with Matt.

#

The first person who responded to my mother’s e-profile was Miller David.
Miller?
What was his mother thinking naming him that? If she had just reversed the two he could have had a real name. She should’ve cut to the chase and just named him Punching Bag. Same end result, trust me. Yet for some strange reason, my mother was attracted to
Punching Bag’s
online profile.

“Look at this, hon. He wants to meet someone he can talk quietly with over a glass of Chardonnay, someone who’d like to hold hands and take long walks…

…off a short pier
, I thought, rolling my eyes.

“How charming,” she drooled.

How cheap!
All that hand holding and walking sounded to me like the perfect excuse not to spend any money.

We were in her home office, which at one time was our tiny, sunny breakfast nook. It was just off the kitchen and looked out into our backyard.  Little by little, over the years, her computer and files migrated there until now we don’t even think of it as a breakfast nook anymore.

“Come, see his picture,” she called with the excitement of a school girl.  I glanced at the monitor. “Cute, huh?”

Suffice to say Miller David was not cute.  Miller David was a loser with a capital L. He was the slightly balding office manager of an internet company who was studying for his law degree at night.

My goodness! Forty years old and he hasn’t finished school yet. Does he plan to graduate when he turns sixty-five and pick up his diploma and retirement check at the same time? Pathetic.

Yet Suze saw things differently. In her eyes he was a man who’d done well for himself in business and who’d gone back to school to follow his dream.

Suddenly, she began tap tapping away at the keyboard, giggling as she typed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hoping the alarm I was feeling hadn’t crept into my voice.

“I’m sending him a message, letting him know I’m interested. Here, let me read it to you.”

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. I again tried humming mentally. Mercifully, this time it worked.

“What do you think?”

“Really good,” I replied with a smile, grateful I had no idea what she’d written. But I couldn’t help notice, my mother was giggling as she passed e-notes to a loser.

#

On Wednesday morning I got up early.

My French teacher, Mrs. Ketchum,had decreed that anyone who missed the midterm she’d given just before Christmas and wanted a chance at passing her class needed to be in their seats at seven AM.  Zero period. A full hour before we normally had to be in school.

I was sick with a bad cold the day of the original, so here I was, catching the cross-town bus to school. Normally I rode to school with Matt, who had just turned sixteen and had his own car, an old Corolla whose passenger door was jammed shut, so anyone riding with him had to slide over the console. But best friend or not, there was no way I was going to convince Matt to get up an hour early on a school day (or any day for that matter), just so I could take a test.

There was a nip in the air as I waited for the bus. The desert sun was peeking over Camelback mountain and hadn’t risen high enough to warm things up yet. I was a popsicle by the time the bus arrived five minutes late. Losing those five minutes meant I really had to hustle once I got to school. I loathe being late, especially for a big test.

I made a quick stop at my locker because I didn’t feel like lugging my jacket and extra books around until third period. Four minutes to the first bell. There wasn’t a soul in the locker area, which was odd for G.U., even at seven-fifteen in the morning.  It was like I was in an alternate universe where everyone had mysteriously vanished. The sound of the band practicing “I’ve Got a Feeling” drifted down the hall, the only indication I wasn’t in an alternate universe and that the building was indeed occupied.

A loud crash to my left obliterated the silence. I yelped, my head whipping in the direction of the sound. Standing by a locker several feet down was the new boy, Guy. I hadn’t seen or heard him come into the area, but there he was, banging on a locker. He was fresh-scrubbed and gorgeous.

“Stupid!” He pounded on the steel locker with the heel of his hand.
Bang, bang, bang!

Yesterday’s embarrassment flashed through my mind. I started to slink off to class unnoticed. But something made me stay.

“Having a problem?” I heard myself ask.

His head turned in my direction. He looked at me as if he’d been waiting for me to say something. And then he smiled. It was the kind of smile you read about in stories. The kind of smile that makes a girl go all gooey inside. The kind of smile that made me forget about my earlier embarrassment.

“I’m sure I remember the combination, but this dumb locker still won’t open.” He turned his attention back to hammering.

Bang, bang, bang!

“Maybe that’s because it’s Manny Santos’ locker.”

“What?” He stepped back and surveyed the area, eyeing the row of lockers. “Oh,” he said.

“It’s perfectly understandable. You’re in a new school. I’m sure the lockers all look alike.”

Points for me for helping the new boy adjust to his new school.
Now, we’re even,
I thought.

He stepped back up to the locker and began fiddling with the combination. I could feel my cheeks starting to flush. The cute but arrogant boy was ignoring me.

“Umm, excuse me. Did you hear what I just said? You can fiddle with that locker all you want…”

The locker popped open.

“Yeah, I heard you,” he called, rummaging in the locker without looking in my direction. “What you said reminded me that I changed my combination when I changed schools.”

“Oh.” My voice was small as I realized I was enduring a second embarrassment at the hands of the new boy. There would not be a third. “Well… have a nice day.”

I started moving away from the locker area as fast as I could. Two minutes to the first bell.

“By the way, Manny Santos graduated end of last semester,” he called after me.

“Thank you.” My voice was even smaller. As I hurried off to take my exam I thought,
Erin saw him first. Thank God.

#

They were scheduled to meet at a down town coffee shop.

Just relax,
I told myself. My mother was having coffee with an obvious loser. No need to panic.

As soon as Miller opened his mouth, and started with the loser-talk, she’d be headed for the door. Heck, she may not even wait that long. She may walk in, see him sitting there looking all loserly, and duck out before he even notices her. I chuckled out loud at the thought.

Suddenly I froze. Oh, my goodness. When she gets back she’ll be crushed that her first date didn’t go as well as she’d hoped.

As much as I didn’t want to hear about my mother’s date, I knew when she returned home, I needed to be prepared to listen. It was important to be sympathetic, no matter how I felt.

I went to my room, where I decided to bone up for the mathlete challenge against Westview next week. Studying would take my mind off of the date, and by the time I was finished, she’d be home.

I looked at the first sample problem:

The sum of thirty-nine and twenty-one is forty-six more than a number. What is the number?

That’s too easy, it’s…. Lip gloss. Oh my goodness, did she remember to take her lip gloss? She’ll need to freshen up before she goes into the coffee shop. And then once she starts drinking, the coffee will wash it right off. She’ll need to freshen up at least once more.

My mother may have been going out with a loser, but that was no reason she shouldn’t have moist lips.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”

“Fine. I just pulled out of the driveway. Is everything all right?”

“Well… I was wondering, did you remember to bring your lip gloss? You’re going to need it.”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m not planning on kissing him.”

“I know.”
Thank God!
“But I just want you looking your best.”

“That is so sweet. And yes, I do have my lip gloss. Thanks.”

“Okay.  See ya. And have a great date.”

With the lip gloss disaster averted, I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to the math problem:

The sum of thirty-nine and twenty-one is forty-six more than a number. What is the number?