The Boyfriend Factory

Chapter One

"What?" I squeaked. I cringed at the uneven tone in my voice and how my anxiety was practically leaking through my pores. My fingers squeezed the juice box tighter.

Ethan Stone.

Jet black tussled hair, deep brown eyes and the chiselled face shape of a Greek God. His eyebrows were slightly thick, which gave his model styled look a hint of innocence. Broad shoulders and a toned torso. And I don't think it would be very 'PG' of me to comment on the lower half. I wouldn't say he was a giant, but he definitely was a few inches taller than me.

Ethan Stone was basically the male version of a Victoria's Secret model at our school, and at least two thirds of the girls in our year alone had their sights set on him – not including me, of course. Sort of. And don't even get me started on the first years.

Girls had literal, physical, fights over this guy. They'd kill to be with him, sell their soul, and give up their first born child for goodness sake. I still recalled vaguely when one of the second years poured a cup of orange juice down another's because they hadn't let her in front of them so she could stand in the lunch line next to Ethan.

All of this apart from the fact he had a girlfriend. Brianna Kent. Class A primadonna.

But that's another story.

Yet here he was. Ethan Stone. Standing before me.

Standing before me as I sat at the cafeteria table by myself with a 'Twilight' book wrapt between my fingers and an apple juice box being suffocated to death in the other. Honestly I wasn't quite sure if I'd ever really read Twilight, but sadly for me I had to choose the worst day of all to pick it up. I felt the presence of a smear of left over doughnut jam at the corner of my mouth and had to resist the urge of licking it off. My hair was a mess, hastily tied into a bun, and I was staring at him like a deer caught in head lights.

This was like a repeat of the first day of high school.

Two words – total. Embarrassment.

"Eh," Ethan said glancing down at the table and back up at me with a slightly freaked out expression. It took me a moment to notice the liquid feeling on my hands was my apple juice spilling out the straw and trickling down to the smooth table, not my suddenly clammy hands.

I gasped, pushing the box away like it was on fire. I rubbed away the jam with my jumper sleeve and used the other to mop up the spilt apple juice – which was an extremely bad idea but I did my best to ignore the dampness because I was already embarrassed enough.

"S-Sorry," I fumbled. Why the heck are you apologizing Eve? "Sorry, what did you say?" Way to go with first impressions Eve.

I stared at him intently, my heart racing. The words I had heard had to have been some sort of mistake, I definitely had to have heard it wrong. 'I need you'. No way. I didn't know how to feel about this. It was a blender in my stomach, full of embarrassment, fright, curiosity and an army of violent butterflies. Who knew butterflies could be so aggressive?

He sighed. I inhaled.

"I need you," he repeated.

Sugar Cookies.

I really wish I was wearing diapers because I was sure I was about to wet myself.

"Come again?" I asked once more, just to be on the safe side. I bit my lips, sensing the frustration and noticing the way he inhaled vigorously. Or maybe that was the weary aura of sadness? Which was odd.

Ethan was confident – overconfident. Not that I noticed or stared at him constantly of course. I was just a very observant person.

Plus I'd convinced myself he was a playboy-jerk-wad so this wasn't even an option, and surprising as it was, I had standards.