The Boyfriend List by R.S. Novelle, Renee Novelle Page A

considered actually talking to him as an option yet. What was she
supposed to be thinking right now? What would he be thinking when he saw her?
Would there be chemistry? Would he remember her from the restaurant? Would she
have to play this inexperienced reporter for as long as she knew him?
    It
occurred to Reagan in her frantic, high-speed line of questions that she was
treating him like a celebrity, when in fact he was actually just an average
college student, just like she was. She couldn’t help it though. Her
expectations of an ideal were set so high, she was afraid they’d crash down
around her in disillusionment if he turned out to be an asshole in reality. And
the anticipation of that discovery was virtually killing her.
    Despite
the fact that her mock interview was set up on the pretense of a lie, and that
his first impression of her would be built on that lie, Reagan was surprised to
find how quickly her panic had turned to excitement as her mind flipped through
all those possibilities.
    That
is, until she saw Brett wasn’t the only one approaching the coach at the
moment.
    The
administrative looking woman had stalked onto the field, furious energy
swelling all around her. And following dutifully right behind her was a frumpy
looking girl with a laptop bag in one hand and a large black camera in the
other.
    “Then
who is she ?” She could hear the coach
saying. This, apparently, was the real reporter.
And Reagan was about to be discovered for her fraud. Her heart began racing
again, and this time it was for more unpleasant reasons. But by the time all
three of them had turned in her direction, scowls perched on their faces, Reagan
had managed to duck out of sight.
    From
her hiding spot under the bleachers, she watched the little search party out of
the corner of her eye and decided she couldn’t stay where she was for long. She
couldn’t imagine there’d be too many consequences – what, in all honesty,
could they actually do about her lie - but she wasn’t willing to stick around
and find out. The mortification would be punishment enough. Waiting until the
three had come around the bend, she made a dash in the opposite direction out
of their sight, back toward the double doors that would lead off the field.
    Please don’t trip, please don’t trip,
please don’t trip. The
mantra seemed to work, and Reagan had never run so fast or so hard in her life.
But it only confirmed that it wouldn’t kill her to get back into the gym and
bump up her cardio. That was a skill that could’ve come in very handy in those
moments.
    The
door was shut tightly behind her as she entered the gym, yet she knew she
didn’t have too long to get out of there before they found her. Recovery only
took a short minute, thankfully. But as she turned to maneuver her way through
the maze of hallways, she felt a dull pain smack her upside the forehead.
Falling backwards through the air, her butt hit the gym floor hard before she’d
even realized what’d happened.
    “What
the...” Was the stunned cry of complaint that followed as she stared at the
door that had attacked her for no apparent reason.
    “Sorry,
my bad.” The apologetic voice was good-natured, if somewhat tentative. Rubbing
her forehead, Reagan looked up to see who her assaulter was and found herself
completely speechless. “I didn’t know anyone was on the other side. You
alright?” The attacker reached out his hand to help her up, but Reagan was
having a hard time finding the concentration to accept it.
    Ohmygod! She was exclaiming to herself. OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod... Because of
course, she was looking at none other than Brett Hanson himself. And of course,
there was absolutely no place for her to hide this time. When did he even have time to get in here?
    “Yeah.
Thanks. I’m fine.” She finally stammered, and took the hand he offered her.
There was no magic in that initial touch, no spark of karmic electricity as
she’d imagined. But she’d give herself a