The Boyfriend Plan Read online

  “Don’t you remember? My legal name is Blake William Connor, the third.”

  “No, sorry.” I’d never called him anything other than Billy.

  “Well, I just go by my legal name now. Have done for a while now.”

  “Wow, it’s been so long. So how has everything been? What do you do now? And how did you know who I was?”

  “Maggie Moo, I saw you as soon as you walked into the gym. And I recognized your face right away. You haven’t changed, not one bit. I was coming over to say hi when you fell off the treadmill,” he held back a laugh.

  “I didn’t fall off the treadmill,” I gasped out indignantly. “There was some sort of malfunction.”

  “Uh-huh”.

  “I’ve a mind to sue, you know.”

  “Uh-huh.” He was grinning now. I couldn’t help but stare at his lips, so pink and lush.

  “Well, Blaaake,” I say, stressing his new name, “why didn’t you introduce yourself when you so gallantly helped me up or gave me your card?”

  “I didn’t think it was the right time,” he smirked. “It looked like you were trying to get out of Dodge pretty quickly. I didn’t think you wanted to stand around the gym and catch up with me all night.”

  He was right, of course. The embarrassment I’d felt at the gym that day after the wink episode and falling had been so extreme that I wouldn’t have felt any sort of happiness at realizing that my rescuer was actually an old friend.

  “How did you know I’d call?”

  “I know you, Maggie Moo. I’ve known you since you were 4 years old. I knew you would call.”

  We both knew what he was talking about. I’d had an obsession with phone calls since I was 7, calling random people from the phone book almost every day just to have phone conversations. Oh, the trouble I had gotten into after I found out you could call people from the late-night TV commercials as well. Oh, the trouble. But hey, the advice that Lady Cleo gave me on those 10 different occasions has stuck with me my whole life. It was worth the shouting I’d gotten when the $800 phone bill had arrived. And the five months I had to work at Papa Johns to pay my parents back.

  “But I never would have guessed you were still a crazy maniac,” and with that, he laughed some more. His eyes lit up as he stared at my face and I laughed along with him, even though I wasn’t that happy at being called a crazy maniac. “Can I do something?” He asked me softly with a small smile?

  “What?”

  “Shall we make your fans day?”

  “How?”

  “Like this.” He said and with that he leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the lips. It only lasted for about three seconds, but in my head and in my body, it last for about five minutes. I was immediately transported back to high school and my first kiss. That magical feeling of being kissed by someone you fancy cannot be beat. And even though, it wasn’t a real kiss, I couldn’t stop myself from seeing stars in my eyes as I looked at him.

  “Oh Blake.” I said as I blushed slightly. We just looked at each other for a few seconds in silence before he changed the subject and asked me how Chad was doing. I could barely think straight as I responded. Something in me had changed slightly and I didn’t really know what it was.

  5

  Dear Diary,

  I need to write a children’s book. I also need to get into tiptop shape. Preferably by next week. I’ve also taken a liking to lawyers. Perhaps they are not all as bad as I thought? I also don’t know if the name Maggie Bonkers suits me. Not that Ben and I are any closer to making the name change happen or anything. I was just playing around with a pen and a notepad, and, well, it struck me that the name Maggie Bonkers might make people think I’m crazy. Or a nymphomaniac. Which I’m not. Well, I may be slightly crazy, because isn’t that what makes you know you are sane? Because if you think about it, truly crazy people have no clue that they are out of it. But I’m definitely not a nympho, not by a long shot. And unless Blake Cooper comes knocking on my door tonight, I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.

  Gayle and Lola weren’t happy when I told them that Blake was my brother’s childhood friend and not really a hot date. I had wanted to continue up the farce after the kiss, but I just didn’t know how to make them think he was my boyfriend when he was most probably going to be in my life a lot from now on. They’d been pretty mad, when I’d told them that he had kissed me to egg them on. They hadn’t been prepared to pay an exorbitant amount for brunch that day either, and were none too happy that it had been for naught. I nearly offered to reimburse them, but was worried they would accept the offer and then I’d be in even bigger trouble. Serves them right for being nosey.

  Ben didn’t seem to mind though. He said he was pleased, that he didn’t think Blake was my type. I don’t know what he meant by that. Did he really think a good-looking guy wouldn’t be my type, or was it that Blake wouldn’t be interested in someone like me? I sort of thought he sounded a bit jealous when we talked at lunch today, but as soon as he found out the truth, he started telling me about some hot chick called Brandy that he had met at the gym. I felt a twinge of jealousy for a couple of seconds, but continued laughing and listening to him. Maybe when I finally lose the weight, Ben will be interested in me. It didn’t hurt that Blake was now in the back of my mind as well. I wouldn’t mind getting a second and much longer kiss from him.

  Now I didn’t know if I should bother with my Ben daydream any longer. Gayle always asks me if I would even want Ben if he did decide one day that he wanted me. Would I ever be able to trust him, she asks. Do I really think he has it in him to be faithful? And do I really want someone who was only into me after I lost some weight? I don’t know what to say to that. I never really thought it through that far. In my mind, Ben Bonkers falling in love with me is as likely as Blake Cooper asking me to marry him. Sad, but true.

  Though it may not be that unlikely that Blake Cooper would ask me to marry him. Well, I guess I should say that it may not be unlikely that I may one day see him again. It turns out that Blake is a lawyer at an entertainment law firm downtown, and he represents a lot of famous clients. He works alongside agents from one of the big Hollywood agencies, and, well, he does a lot more stuff, but I kind of drifted off when he told me some of the people he represents. I didn’t tell Gayle and Lola that part though, because I couldn’t remember if he told me the information was private and confidential or not.

  I told Blake about my job at the literacy nonprofit and how I want to write children’s books. He was very encouraging. He says he can introduce me to an agent who helps movie studios buy the rights to children’s books and then make them into movies. He says the guy was a big part of the ‘Show Me Where the Things Are’ adaptation. I was impressed and pleased. Blake didn’t even ask me if he could read my book before he introduced me. He says he remembers the short stories I would write and act out for him and Chad when I was a child and that if I am that entertaining now, he has no doubt that what I have written is phenomenal.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the book isn’t actually finished as yet. Not even started. I mean, I’ve seen people’s looks before when I tell them I want to be a children’s author.

  “Oh, what’s your book about?” they say eagerly, ready to get into a discussion about their favorite authors.

  “Oh, well, it’s not fully formulated as yet,” I mumble, trying to put it as discreetly as possible.

  “What’s it about, though?” the response is quite eager.

  “Um, well, I’m still working on the characters.” I’m always embarrassed at this point and chiding myself for not having learnt my lesson the last time I said I wanted to be an author and got into a conversation like this.

  “Oh, so you haven’t written anything then?” It’s at this point that I know the other person has lost all interest in talking about my upcoming children's book and has possibly labeled me as a lazy wannabe.

  I didn’t want to see that same look of disappointment in B
lake’s eyes, if I told him that I don’t actually have a book completed as yet. It’s unfortunate that he also now thinks I have a trilogy of some sort completed and that it is just waiting to go through final edits. I didn’t deliberately lie. I was really just trying to impress him with all my knowledge and wanted to show him that I was serious about my writing. I recently read that the way to go with writing these days is to self-publish. And I didn’t care if I self-published or traditionally published if someone was going to read my book or series of books. I may have mentioned to him that I was writing a trilogy. Well, for some reason, Blake misinterpreted my excited babble about getting rich to mean that I had the trilogy ready to go. And due to all his connections, he is pretty confident he can get me an agent. Which is really great news. I mean, when else will I ever have the opportunity to get a great agent this easily?

  I have given myself a few weeks by telling him I really need to revise and edit before I can go on a lunch date with him to pitch my book to someone. But now I actually have to write something and make it good. It’s time for me to hit the coffee shops again, like Gayle and I did in college.

  Sometimes what you need is the impetus to get going, when you are a creator. Or a want-to-be creator. But it’s not like my goal to be the next Monet or Van Gogh. I mean if I wanted to be a painter, I would be in trouble. A lot of trouble. I can’t even color in the lines that well. I can actually write. At least, I was told in high school and college that I have talent. I did write a whole book once, my magnum opus or piece d’resistance, or so I liked to think of it. And I dedicated it to the love of my life at the time, Charles Killjoy. We had a typical college romance, not even lasting six months. But like every other typical hopeless romantic, I believed he was the one the first day I met him. It seemed like fate to me, that we met at the ice cream shop and ordered the same flavor of ice cream at the same time. And when we both asked for the whole-wheat ice-cream cone, well, it made us glance at each other and laugh (I have never admitted this to anyone, but I only ordered the whole wheat cone because he had. Maybe that’s why it never really worked out; we weren’t really soul mates who shared a love of all things whole wheat, we were two people who liked strawberry ice cream who ended up being in the same store at the same time).

  Unfortunately, I had gotten it into my head that we were soul mates. I decided this right after our chat in the store, so I got his email address and phone number, with the pretense of wanting to introduce him to an entire line of whole-wheat products that would change his life. If you didn’t know already, I am a white flour kind of girl, and whole wheat has never knowingly entered my shopping basket at the grocery store. However, all is fair in love and war, and, well, for love I could eat some whole wheat.

  I spent about 2 days on the Internet researching the best whole-food products and looking for local stores that actually carried the brands before I emailed Charles. I figured that an email was less obnoxious than calling, and that I wouldn’t feel as bad if he didn’t really want to talk to me. However, he responded pretty promptly to my email, and we corresponded back and forth for a week before I was able to get a first date by inviting him over to try some of the delicious food I could make with all the whole-wheat and natural products I was now into. And he loved it. It was the most appreciative response I’d ever had to a meal I had cooked.

  My biggest mistake was trusting Charles with the truth. After a few months of pretending I loved whole wheat as much as he did, I decided to come clean and let him know that I actually hated whole wheat and had just said it to gain his love. I’d thought that our love was strong enough and had written a book about the ultimate love story. The book had been written with us as the main characters and was completed about 2 weeks before Charles dumped me. He told me that he just couldn’t get over all the lies I had told and that he just couldn’t trust me anymore. He had gone on and on about how he had really tried to not let my lies affect our relationship. I had felt pretty guilty for a while until I found out that he was actually a cad and had blamed me for the demise of our relationship while he was actually boinking some new girl he had met at the gym. Needless to say, the novel was just a reminder of all the pain I went through and now that the real relationship had combusted, the relationship in the book only made me sad and depressed.

  Obviously, I should have learned a greater lesson from that whole experience, something along the lines of ‘lies never get you anywhere’, but I hadn’t intended on lying to Blake and I fully believed that I could get a children's book written in time if I fully applied myself.

  Ideas for Children’s Book

  1. High school girl realizes she is a witch and has to go to witch school. (No, that sounds too much like a female Harry Potter.)

  2. Teenage boy falls in love with shy, naive girl but dates the popular chick to keep up the status quo (plotline is too similar to every 80’s movie starring John Cusack).

  3. Trio of friends travel to new world and have to figure a way to get back to Earth with help from a robot from Mars (sounds like most sci-fi stories set on another planet).

  4. Girl meets up with her brother’s childhood best friend and they go on an adventure in the jungle and fall in love (Would Blake think he was the inspiration?).

  6

  Dear Diary,

  I am starting to like going to the gym. It gives me time to allow my brain to focus on nothing other than the music coming through my headphones. Oh, and the cute eye candy. I have been thoroughly overwhelmed with trying to write this children’s book and with Gayle hassling me about the marathon. Ben Bonkers has also been dating someone for about a month, which gives me cause for concern. He never ‘dates’ anyone for longer than a few weeks before he moves on, and I am starting to think it is something serious. Lola thinks I should tell him how I feel before it is too late and he gets into a serious relationship. Gayle thinks I should examine my real feelings for him and sort them out before I say anything. She doesn’t think what I am feeling for him is real. I’m not really sure what to do.

  “Maggie, I really want you to meet Jasmine. Can you make lunch on Saturday?” Ben looked at me with excitement. My stomach started to feel nauseous. He had never wanted me to meet a girl he was dating before. They had always been expendable.

  “Jasmine?” I pretended I didn’t remember every single word he’d told me about her, from her cat-like green eyes to her black silky hair. I didn’t want him to know that every time I saw ballet shoes or a leotard now, I frowned, thinking about her doing pliés in some studio somewhere.

  “Don’t you remember? I showed you her photo a few weeks ago.” He looked puzzled. I suppose it was a bit implausible to believe I’d forgotten every second of that conversation. It had lasted an hour, and I had interrogated him for information with question after question. I always did that though, never expecting that the girl in question would still be around a month later. I wanted him to think about the answers and realize that I matched the answers that he gave, that the love of his life was sitting right in front of him.

  “I’m not sure ...” I stared off into space, trying to pretend that I was thinking hard.

  “You know, the ballet dancer, Jasmine, the girl I told you has the amazing...”

  “Oh, yes, I remember,” I cut him off quickly. I didn’t want to hear any sordid details about their love life. When we had first become friends, I would delight in the fact that Ben told me explicit details about his relationships. I thought it meant that we were bonding, getting closer. I hadn’t realized he’s just the type of guy who likes bragging about his conquests and would literally tell the office cleaners about his dirty adventures any time they deigned to listen. It was when I started feeling physical pangs of jealousy that I started to change the topic. He seemed to notice that I was no longer as receptive, because he never even tried to tell me any dirty stories anymore.

  “So, Saturday? It will be my treat.” He smiled at me, obviously thinking he had this one in the bag. He knows free food is
my weakness.

  “I don’t know. I’m busy on Saturday. Gayle asked me to go on a run.” Which was true, she had asked me to go for another run in the Hollywood Hills. Only this time, I had told her no, and she had accepted my answer. She knows I’m trying to get my book done to show Blake and is supportive of my writing. Plus, I told her I was keeping up with my running at the gym, which is half true. I have gone to the gym twice in the last few weeks, and I enjoyed it and can even run on the treadmill for about 4 minutes now before I’m completely winded. I’ve promised myself I’ll double up on my working out after my book is written. That deadline is coming up a lot faster than the marathon is.

  “Please, Maggie. I really want you to meet her. You can even choose the restaurant,” Ben begged me. Conflicting emotions arose in me. I was happy and excited that I would get to choose the place to eat and that he so obviously wanted me to meet her, but I was also sad because he so obviously wanted me to meet her. I wished that he was begging me for a date, without any third party involved. I’d already imagined/daydreamed in my head a million times how it would go.

  We’d be at a coffee shop having some hot chocolate and a slice of red velvet cake from Sprinkles, discussing a movie we had just seen at the movie theater. I’d be laughing and trying not to stuff the cake in my mouth, and he would just start staring at me as if he had just noticed me for the first time. You know the gaze — the one in every boy-and-girl-are-best-friends-and-boy-realizes-he-is-in-love-with-her movie that has ever been made.

  “I never noticed how sparkly and warm your brown eyes were before,” he’d say as if in a trance, staring deep into my eyes. He’d reach his hand up to my face and wipe the crumbs off my lips.

  “Such a messy eater,” he’d laugh.