The Boyfriend League Read online

  “Have you really thought this through?” Tiffany asked. “We won’t be able to walk around upstairs in our underwear.”

  Tiffany has a habit of not even wearing that much. She isn’t exactly Miss Modesty. She says she’s used to baring it all, because during beauty contests she often shares changing rooms with other girls, and so she’s learned to be proud of her body and feel “comfortable with its natural state.”

  “I have a bathrobe,” I said. “Or I could throw on shorts and a tank.”

  “I don’t know,” Mom said. “A boy in the house…” Her voice trailed off as though her thoughts were traveling into R-rated territory.

  “It’s not like we’re going to date him, Mom. Worse than seeing Tiff without her clothes, he may see her without her makeup.”

  “No way!” Tiffany screeched. “I don’t leave my room without makeup.”

  “Exactly. It would be kinda icky dating a guy who was living with us, who wouldn’t always see us at our best. So, getting involved with him isn’t even an issue.” Getting involved with one of his teammates, yes, but him, no. “The league is really desperate for host families this year. And it just seems like such a nice thing to do, give someone a home for the summer.”

  “It’s not like they’re orphans,” Tiffany said.

  She mentions orphans at every opportunity. Part of the Miss Teen Ragland competition involves answering a question about how you’d change the world or make a difference or improve yourself. For Tiffany, it doesn’t matter what question she’s asked, she always manages to explain how she’d help orphans. Maybe her generous heart and not her generous, uh, chest helped her win the past three competitions.

  I couldn’t help but think she’d gotten her chest plus mine. But that was okay, because I liked to think I’d gotten her brains plus mine.

  I looked at my dad, the real decision maker in the family. Well, okay, Mom was the true decision maker, but I knew if I could convince him, he could persuade Mom. It was the reason they’d been happily married for twenty years. They had communicating and understanding each other down to an art. I’d never seen them argue about anything.

  “For two months, Dad, it would be like you had a son. Someone to pitch baseballs to—”

  “I pitch baseballs to you.”

  “Someone to hit fly balls to—”

  “I hit fly balls to you.”

  “You’d have a real boy—”

  “He’s not Geppetto,” Tiffany said, “waiting for the blue fairy to touch us with her magic wand.”

  Maybe not, but I knew Dad had always wanted a son. What father didn’t? But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was: I wanted a boyfriend this summer, and to have a boyfriend, I needed to meet boys, and the Lonestar League was guys, guys, guys.

  Honesty time.

  I released a big sigh. “All right, so maybe I’d like to have a brother for the summer.”

  Okay, not so honest.

  “A boyfriend is more like it,” Tiffany said.

  I glared at her. “Any chance you could move off to college next week? Don’t they have summer classes or something?”

  “I have three more months of representing the city as Miss Teen Ragland. I don’t shirk my responsibilities.”

  Whatever. Her responsibilities are the reason I always have to bum rides with Bird.

  I turned back to Dad and decided to just say it like it was. “As I already explained, I don’t want him for a boyfriend. I really want to host a baseball player this summer. Baseball is my passion. It would be a dream come true for me to have someone who lives and breathes baseball to live in our house. Think of the perspective on the sport he could give us.”

  Dad glanced across the table to Mom, his blue eyes peering at her over the upper rim of his glasses.

  Mom was the one Tiffany and I had inherited our reddish-brown hair from. I’d also inherited her green eyes—intensified. Mine were a brighter hue. Tiffany’s eyes were the same blue as Dad’s. It was the only thing she and he had in common.

  Mom shrugged. “I suppose we could make it work with a young man living in the house. But there would have to be rules—”

  “Whatever they are, we’ll follow them.”

  “There can be no hanky-panky—”

  “Puh-lease!” Who said hanky-panky these days? “He won’t be the one—”

  “The one?” Mom asked, her eyes narrowing.

  Why don’t I just blow it here and now?

  “We’re just giving him a room, Mom. I promise. I wouldn’t be interested in him if he turned out to be Johnny Depp.” I gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Well, okay, if he was Johnny Depp, I’d be interested. But seriously, what are the odds?”

  Mom’s mouth quirked at that, because she had a thing for Johnny Depp, too.

  “All right, then,” she said, “you can have your ballplayer for the summer.”

  Yes! Deep inside I was doing a happy dance, but on the outside I did nothing more than smile. If my parents figured out the real plan was to get a boyfriend, they absolutely wouldn’t go for it. Not that they had anything against boys, but Dad’s always saying we shouldn’t date until we’re thirty. I’m not sure he’s joking.

  Now he nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll talk to Ed Morton. He’s the team manager, and I’m sure he can explain everything we need to do and get us the paperwork.”

  “Bird wants to host a baseball player, too,” I told him.

  She’d called earlier with the news her parents had given their permission for her to have a summer buddy, as she’d taken to calling him.

  “Little do they know our ulterior motives,” she’d said, like some evil scientist, which had made me laugh.

  “I’ll let Ed know,” Dad said now. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to give us a little extra consideration, since I helped design and build the field.”

  He winked at me, and I knew it was a done deal.

  Chapter 3

  His name was Jason Davis, and he took my breath away. Literally.

  Following the advice on the proper application of mascara, which Tiffany had posted on her blog at the Miss Teen Ragland website, I’d just finished applying my third layer—“one for length, one for width, one for beauty”—when the doorbell rang. Since we were expecting Jason to arrive at any moment, I knew it had to be him.

  I quickly looked at myself in the mirror. I’d decided my boyfriend plans required more than my usual T-shirts, so I’d done a little shopping. New Gap jeans and a red spaghetti-strap tank with tiny white polka dots and a wide swath of white lace along the dipping neckline and down the center. My shoes were a corked wedge with a T-and-ankle strap. Really classy, I thought.

  I’d taken a hot iron to my hair, but had only managed to straighten my straight hair further. But I didn’t really have time for a do-over. Besides, my hair was a lost cause.

  So, with a deep breath, I headed down the hallway and descended the stairs, trying not to clunk, but trying to get to Jason before Tiffany had a chance to impress him.

  According to Stephanie, who was majoring in psychology, for guys it was all about physical attraction before anything else. “Think bright plumage,” Bird’s sister had said. “For guys it’s all about sex; for girls it’s all about love. Venus. Mars. Who wants to have sex with a dog?”

  “Another dog?” Bird had asked sarcastically, which had ended Stephanie’s lesson on what was important to guys.

  Which was okay with me, because I wasn’t ready to jump ahead to the sex part. Long, slow kisses were more along the lines of what I was looking for this summer. Really long and really slow.

  So, it was important that I impress Jason before Tiffany did, so I’d have an in with the team. In theory, I guess he could take both of us when he hung out with the guys. But if he only chose one of us, I wanted it to be me.

  I could see he wasn’t in the foyer and, knowing Mom, she’d probably taken him to the kitchen for warm cookies and milk.

  The stairs ended at the foyer, the wall beside the