How To Get a Boyfriend 101

3 : Tuesday

Step Three: If you want to approach him online first, then make sure to put your best foot forward. Show your favorite pictures of yourself! If you have some friends, put on your best dress, and have fun doing a mini-photoshoot!

"If you have friends."

I groan and flip around to glare at Blake, who is mocking me, because he's my only friend.

"Want to do a photoshoot?" he offers, trying to make up for insulting me.

"You know what? Fine."

He squeals giddily and pulls several outfits out of my closet and lays them onto my bed. I wrinkle my nose as he puts down some tight leather jeans—I didn't even know I had those—with fake diamonds studded into the cuffs. A tank top with the words "Get Cool" makes me gag; I literally want to donate that... skirt? I want to donate a plaid skirt to the garbage can. Why do I even own that?

"Okay, try this one on first. Then we'll take pictures by the aesthetic evergreen in the park, and you'll come back here to change again. Each outfit will have a different location, and..." he goes on and on. Blake can be so gay, I swear.

But, like, so am I. Breaking stereotypes and whatnot. Fun.

"...Felix! Are you even listening?" Blake pouts, sticking his lower lip out in a way that could almost seem aggressive. It's not a very good look on him.

Laughing, I answer, "Let's just start, okay? You can explain things to me on the way to the park."

~~~~~~~~

"Wow. You're hot," Blake says in wonder as he scrolls through the final results of the six-hour-photoshoot. "I'm surprised I've never had feelings for you yet."

"Yet?" I ask. I really don't want any romantic attraction between Blake and me, no offense to him. It's just that I've got other people on my mind, namely Jason.

"Well, you never know, right? If Russell and Jason don't work out for us, let's get married and move to Vegas. Kay?"

I stare at him in wonder. "Blake, where did I find you again?"

"I found you. In a dumpster."

I laugh, remembering how we met. "True." Years ago, when my family was new to Misty Bay, my mom and I had gotten lost searching for the middle school.

I was upwards of an hour late to my first day of middle school, when my severely jetlagged mom was willing to give up searching for the building. "You'll go tomorrow," she said. I was very upset with her, with life, with leaving my friends and cousins in Australia. The list went on, so to make a point I threw myself into a dumpster while she wasn't looking. She got really mad, but then worried about my disappearing act. My own mother left me there (well, she actually went searching for me in other parts of town).

Blake's older brother had a free period and was wandering around the neighborhood. He found me raging in the dumpster, called his own mother, who rushed to the crime scene and reunited me with my parents. So, technically, Blake didn't find me in the dumpster; his older brother did, but the idea is there.

Since then, our families have been good friends, and Blake and I are best friends. When my parents went back to Australia just as I started high school, we made sure our dorm rooms were next to each other, as per a lot of requesting and bribing, and some parental intervention.

"Go back home, Blake," I mutter. He giggles and keeps looking through the photos until he finds one he likes.

"Ooooh!"

He shows me the picture... and it's literally the first one we took all day long. I'm wearing a pink turtleneck and dark black, ripped jeans. The lighting isn't that bad—it reflects off my dirty blond hair and golden eyes. They look a lot more vibrant in the picture than in real life. But, on the bright side, my freckles are clearly visible in the picture. I've gotten used to them being on my face, and I quite like them.

But it's the first picture we took.

"Blake Turner! I swear to Go—"

"Fine, fine, fine. Okay, I get it." He shrugs and puts his phone in his pocket. "I'll send you the best ones, and you can post them, or whatever. These pictures deserve to be shown to the world. So, if you don't, I will."

I glare at him and point to the door. "Blake, I love you, but get out of here."

Blake grins goofily as he waddles out of the doorway.

Waddles.

My almost-grown-up best friend waddles out the doorway.

I sigh; sometimes, he can really piss me off.

~~~~~~~~

"How did you find my room?" I ask as it dawns on me that it doesn't require having detective skills to look up the directory of the dorms.

I'm standing in my doorway, watching Russell turn a hilarious shade of red.

"I, um, I, uhhhh... I thought Blake lived here?" It doesn't take long for me to remember our shared ability of-word-stringing-together-cohesively, or lack thereof.

I sigh and point to the left. "We're neighbors."

"Oh," he says. "Sorry."

I laugh bitterly and tell him, "Please annoy him as much as possible."

Russell grins goofily, just like Blake did, and is about to waddle away (to get grapes, maybe) before he turns back to me. I almost tell him that no, I do not have any lemonade. I don't think he'd get the reference, though.

"Nice post, by the way."

No.

NO.

I widen my eyes, surprised. "I didn't post anything, though?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement, and I curse inside my head. Blake probably went into my account and did it, the toddler inside that he is.

"Well, someone did. Jason says you look good in pink turtlenecks, by the way. He says, and I quote, 'Felix is very snuggle-able in the turtleneck.'" Russell turns around and is out of my sight before I respond.

Or don't respond. My tongue suddenly feels swollen, as if it's not going to respond to my brain anymore. It's finally catching up to the rest of my body, ha.

Did Jason actually say that?