The Boyfriend Project

Chapter 11

By the time Blakely and I got back to my house, my parents were back from their overnight whatever. And much to my anticipation, they weren't even anywhere in the bottom of the house either. I had to be the oldest living 17-year-old in the world, running out of patience along with it.

We stayed down in the family room, talking while we streamed videos on the TV, waiting for a text from Easton. I had no idea what I would say to him and prayed that I wouldn't sound like an idiot on top of it all. I was hoping the videos would take my mind off it, but strangely, it added to my anxiety even more.

"Chelsi, are you okay? You seem really distracted right now." Blakely asked, getting up off the couch. "I'm getting a drink. Do you want one?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm just worried I'm going to sound like a complete moron when I talk to Easton later." I grabbed a decorative pillow, throwing it over my head.

"I don't think he would notice any difference if you did." She busted out laughing.

I lowered the pillow, glaring at her back. "Thanks a lot, Blakely. I'm doomed."

A few giggles would escape each time she tried to stop laughing, sending her into laughter again. After ten minutes of going back and forth, she finally managed to keep her composure long enough to talk to me for more than a few seconds. Then, the apologies for laughing came flying at me. I told her numerous times that I wasn't mad or upset at her for laughing at me and that she didn't have to keep apologizing every few seconds. Now, I was the one laughing, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop myself. I could see discontent all over Blakely's face, yet I continued.

All the apologizing and laughing somehow made me hungry, which I didn't see how. It's not like we had just finished working out. I got off the couch and walked around the kitchen, asking if she wanted anything to snack on. I got all the way to the pantry, and my phone chimed, letting me know I had a notification. The color on my knuckles faded as I clutched the door handles. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. By the time I returned to my phone, Blakely was reaching for my phone.

"Excuse you," I said, taking my phone out of her hand. "Seriously?" I looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you were too busy over there having a breathing exercise. So, I thought I'd look for you." She giggled. "Was it Easton?" she asked, getting up on her knees and trying to look at my phone.

"Yes. He said he just got off work and wanted to know if I could meet him at the beach. He is meeting some friends there. OH, GOD!" My phone fell out of my hand, bouncing off the arm of the couch and landing next to Blakely's knee.

"Chelsi, calm down! You like him." She smirked, handed me the phone, and then got off the couch.

"I don't like him. I just need him to help get rid of Aaron." I stated, glancing down at my phone.

"Yeah. Whatever." She held her hand up to me, walking into the kitchen. "Yes, I will go with you."

I spun around to face her. "I didn't ask you yet? Thanks," I smiled.

"Anytime. Now, we need to go pick out your outfit for the beach. Shorts and a cute summer shirt with canvas shoes. Let's go see what you got." She smiled, pulling me along with her to the stairs. "Your hair still looks good."

She had me sit on my bed while she stood there in front of my closet, sorting through my clothes. After a few minutes of moving clothes back and forth, she pulled out a white crop top with big sunflowers. "This would look great with your hair. Why haven't you worn this yet?" She asked, lifting up the tag.

"I don't know." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Well, you are wearing it to talk to Easton. Hurry up, and put it on while I find a cute pair of jean shorts." She tossed the shirt at me.

I reluctantly put the shirt on because I knew I had no other choice. If I even tried to refuse, she would probably tackle me to the ground and put it on me that way. This way seemed more dignified, to say the least. By the time I had put on the sunflower crop top, she had picked out a pair of blue jean shorts and was now digging through my shoes in the closet.

"Chelsi, where in the hell are your canvas shoes?" Her muffled voice asked as she kept digging around on the floor of my closet.

"Blakely, they were on my feet." I giggled, pulling up the jean shorts.

"What?" she leaned back. You let me dig around in your closet this whole time. Wow. " She said, getting up off the floor and straightening her clothes. Get your shoes on so I can see how you look with everything on." She closed my closet door.

Blakely stood there, staring at me, tilting her head from side to side every few seconds, not saying a word. "You look great. What time are you supposed to meet him?" She asked, headed for my door.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was a quarter to three. "I have to be there in fifteen minutes," I said as I ran past Blakely, tripping down half the stairs.

"For someone that doesn't like him, you are in a big hurry." She laughed, stepping down off the bottom stairs. "Let me grab my stuff, and we will leave. You got plenty of time. Remember, the beach is just a few miles from here."

I kept replaying what I was going to say to him over and over in my head so hopefully, I wouldn't sound like an idiot. Easton was the perfect guy for the assignment because he stood up to Aaron numerous times, which no one had done before. So, he obviously wasn't intimidated by him. This was just going to be a business deal, nothing more.

Blakely got us to the beach with about four minutes to spare—enough time for me to have a mini-meltdown. Right as I was about to get out of the car, fear swept over me like a wave.

"Oh my god, Blakely! This is crazy. Why didn't you talk me out of this? You are my best friend and supposed to talk me out of stupid shit." I said, closing my eyes tight, hoping to open them and be back in my house.

"We can leave. No one's seen us yet." She said.

"What? No. I can't stand him up. Are you out of your mind?" I said, opening my eyes.

"Seems like I'm not the one who's lost their mind." She giggled.

"Funny." I rolled my eyes. "Can we go now?"

"I'm waiting on you. You sure you don't want to sit here and freak out some more?" She laughed, closing the car door.

I got out of the car door. And off in the distance, there he was, playing football with his buddies on the beach. I closed the door and headed in that direction. The closer I got, I could see his defined abs glistening in the sun from the sweat. I closed my eyes, shaking my head, trying to get the image out of my mind and to stay focused on why I was here. I opened my eyes, and they instantly zoomed in on Easton's rippling abs and muscular biceps, and I wondered what it would be like to run my hands down his perfect body. 

Author's Notes:

I think Blakely may be right about Chelsi. What do you think? 

If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a vote. Thanks! A.L.