The Boyfriend Factory

Chapter Eleven

I think this had to have been the weirdest thing that happened to me so far.

I think I was . . . actually appreciating Ethan. Ethan.

Was I losing my mind?

I'd sat on my bed and thought it over and over, the times I'd spent with him, the scenarios. Trying to determine whether or not in some particular moments if he'd been genuine, if I was speaking to the real Ethan. If he'd meant it.

Even if he'd been doing it to try and get on my good side, or the fact that it'd almost ruined my non-existent-but-important-social-life, he had taken me out before technically, and paid for pretty much everything to boot. I glanced at the sunglasses that perched on my shelf. He'd even told me not to pay him back and never mentioned it again, and if I was correct, that's not what bad guys did.

Then there was the fact he'd covered up our little 'outing' and hidden my identity, even though he didn't really need to do that. After all, the only real toll the rumours were taking on were me. And why would Ethan ever want to defend me?

Hold up – he did not have feelings for me.

I'm pretty confident that is a really long stretch now.

I shook my head, pushing that one thought away. No, no, Eve. None of that.

And at the party too. When he was drunk – I assumed – he'd told me something I doubt he'd have said to my face sober. He agreed he wasn't the best of guys, and he looked so genuinely troubled it'd made my heart ache, and made me want to reach out to him. Which was totally weird. He'd showed me a sign of vulnerability, and it made my heart flutter thinking about it.

Total weirdo Eve.

There was the whole Chemistry class thing. Ethan voluntarily came to talk to me, and he walked with me despite having an open opportunity to completely avoid me. Which he definitely could've done. He could've left me there and drove past without a word when I'd twisted my foot, after all, I shouted at him for no reason. I shouted at him for being curious as to why I'd been hurt.

And if I wasn't mistaken, he actually cared about how I'd gotten the bruise.

I couldn't lie to myself. I'd seen it in his body language, and there was no way of ignoring the sheer fact. Ethan had cared.

My heart leaped and I shut my eyes, trying to stop the racing and the butterflies – so many butterflies.

What is going on with you Eve? I thought. This is insane. I shook my head at myself.

It was a Friday morning and I was getting ready for school as all of this ran through my head in a constant cycle. I could hardly process it all.

Ethan and I had seemingly become somewhat closer.

We'd been talking more – mostly about Brianna, of course – and I was starting to see past his arrogance, even by just a little bit. Every now and then I doubted our connection and wondered if I wasn't actually talking to the real Ethan, but we were talking nonetheless. Talking more than I could have ever imagined.

And now that I thought about it – I'd almost spent the longest time with him out of all my patients. Out of any guy. Which was few in my own personal life department.

I couldn't call us friends, definitely not, but we were . . . complicated.

Complicated, I thought. Sounds like something someone in a relationship would say.

I kicked myself at that thought. Pull it together.

As I grabbed my bag and messily stuffed my work books in, my head in the clouds, I leaped up at least a hundred feet in the air at the sound of a loud DING! screeching across my bedroom. I looked around frantically and found my phone lit up on my desk – culprit found. I sighed. I hadn't realized how quiet it was, or how on edge I'd been. I seemed to be out of my game since the foot accident – that's what I was calling it now.