The Fill - In Boyfriend
Episode 1's

CHAPTER 1

In some parts of my brain, perhaps the logical part that seems to be missing right now, I know I have to let go and go, maintaining some of my dignity. Instead, I gripped her waist tighter by hugging her and sticking my cheek to her chest. Logic certainly does not control my brain right now. Despair first. And even though I knew the despair was unattractive, I couldn't help myself.

He sighed, releasing a bit of air, which made me tighten my grip even more. Isn't that how a boa snake kills its prey? Even this thought does not make me let go.

Gia, I'm sorry.

“Then don't do this. And if you have to, can't you wait two hours? ”

“That fact you said made me know it couldn't. You only care if your friend sees me. "

"That's not true." Okay, so that's true. But only because of Jules. He infiltrated our group a year ago and very slowly tried to get my best friends against me. Her latest claim is that I have been lying about having a boyfriend for the past two months. So yes, I want my friends to see that I am not lying. That he was the one who tried to divide our group in two. He's at least a quarter evil. I wasn't.

That's not the only reason I want Bradley to come tonight. I really liked her before she decided to break up with me in the parking lot at the prom. But now that he's taken out that goddamn card, I just need him to go inside, prove that he exists, maybe punch Jules in the stomach for me, and then get out. Is that too much to ask? Plus, hello, this is my senior prom. He will actually make me walk alone to my senior prom party, where will I possibly be crowned as a noble tonight?

“That's not all I care about. . . . ” My voice is hoarse even though I try not to show weakness. Well, aside from the whole thing that sticks to her-like-static-filled socks.

That's all you care about and you made sure of it tonight when you saw me and the first thing you said was 'My friends are going to die.' Really, Gia? That's the first thing you said when you saw me after two weeks? "

My mind raced back. Is that really what I'm saying or is he making it up right now to try to make himself feel better? He does look very good. And yes, I want my friends to see how handsome he is. Can he blame me for that?

"And all this time you've been trying to plan how we're gonna get in. You told me how to see you."

“So I control a little. You know it's about me. "

"A little bit?"

"Gia's." Bradley took my hand and stepped back. "I have to go. It's a long drive home. "

He at least looks very sorry.

I crossed my arms, finally finding a bit of dignity it was too late. "good. Go."

“After all you have to go inside. You look amazing."

“Can you curse me and just leave? I don't need to think you're sweet after all this. " He was sweet and the thought that my desperation to keep him here was more than just my friends struggling to take over my emotions. I pushed him back. I didn't want him to know he was going to really hurt me.

He smiled his playful smile then raised his voice. “I don't want to talk to you anymore. You are a shallow, arrogant person who is selfish and you deserve to walk there alone! ”

Why does that sound so convincing? I keep doing our little skit. "I hate you, you son of a bitch!"

He kissed me and I smiled. I watched him until he got in the car and left. My smile disappeared from my face as my stomach tightened. Looks like he assumed I'd find a ride home. Thank goodness all my friends are inside. . waiting for me to show up with the man I've been proud of for the past two months. I growled, tried to turn my heartache into anger, and leaned against the back of the red truck. It was then that I caught the attention of a man sitting in the driver's seat of the car across from me. I immediately stood up from the slumped position — not even a stranger saw me looking weak — and he looked down.

What does a person sitting in his car do? He picked up a book and started reading. Is he reading? Sitting in the parking lot at prom and reading? Then I realized: the couple coming down from the back seat. He's dropping someone off. A little sister or a boy, maybe.

I judge him when he reads. I can't see much but he's not bad to see. Brown hair, olive skin. He could even have been high — his head was higher than the headrest of — but it was hard to say. She is by no means my type — hair is a bit too messy, on the skinny side, — glasses but she has to do it. I walked to the window. He read some geography books or something about the world in eighty days. I tapped on his window and he slowly looked up. It took him a lot longer to bring down the window.

“Hai,” I said.

"Hey."

“Did you go here?” If he goes to