Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) by E. Van Lowe Read Free Book Online

moved to me. Even Mrs. Brewster stopped gathering her things to observe.
    I was still looking at Guy. I don’t know why I said what I said. All I knew was I had to.
    “You’re not team captain
,”
he said.
    “Umm, that’s right, I’m not. I was… umm… speaking for Tran.”
    “I don’t need you talking for me,” snarled Tran. He faced Guy. “As team captain, I have to insist you study with us.” His voice had taken on an officious tone, but from the way his eyes began darting back and forth, it was clear he was afraid Guy might turn him down, or worse, laugh and embarrass him in front of the entire team.
    A bemused Guy looked from Tran to me.
    “Okay,” he finally said. “I’m a team player. Count me in.” And then he winked at me.
    Guy Matson winked atme!
    “My house,” Tran said, regaining his confidence. “I have all the problems from the last three countywide meets downloaded onto my hard drive. When I’m through, we’ll know them all backwards and forwards.”
    “Sounds great,” I replied. My heart was in my mouth.
    “Righteeo,” said Guy.
    Tran turned to me. “
I’m
team captain,” he said, his eyes burning into me.
    “I know. It’s just that I know how important the three of us studying together is. Sorry.”
    “Okay. But just remember,
I’m
captain.”
    I nodded.
    Satisfied with my apology, Tran began gathering his things. I looked over at Erin who was smiling at me. I was going to be alone with Guy Matson—almost. This was big.
    #
    Later that same evening, as Suze and I were seated in the living room watching a reality show on TV, she broke some startling news. She was going to see Armando again. Seems while I was trying to snare a boyfriend, she was doing the same thing.
    “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a date. It’s just a gathering at his art gallery.”
    Armando was showcasing an up-and-coming artist at the gallery and had invited Suze to the opening. I couldn’t hide the concern on my face when she told me about the event. All I could envision was Armando riding roughshod over my mother’s heart.
    “I’m not looking at you any special way,” I replied.
    “Yes, you are. You’re looking at me like you’re worried about me.”
    “No, I was just thinking about my homework,” I lied.
    “Why don’t you come along?” she suddenly asked.
    “Me? I don’t think so.”
    “Please.” Her voice was a soft and pleading sing-song. “You’d be doing me a big favor.”
    “By being your chaperone?”
    “It’s not a
date!
You know I’m not into the sports-car types. I just need to get out. I’m sure Armando will be so busy with his muckity-muck guests, he won’t have a moment for me.”
    “And that’s okay with you?”
    “Of course it is. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, sweetheart.”
    I was glad to hear it. Perhaps the boyfriend thing was really behind us after all.
    “I won’t know a soul there. I’ll feel so out of place.” She looked pleadingly into my eyes.
“Please?”
It was a soft, playful whine.
    As much as I didn’t want to go, I knew she needed to get out and put the Miller failure far into the past. “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll go.”
    A small smile appeared on her lips. “So… you’ll be my date?” she asked playfully.
    “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be your date.” And then I added. “But when the evening is over, don’t you dare try to kiss me.”
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    The Artemus Gallery was on a quiet street in what had once been the industrial part of town. Over the past several years the empty storefronts had been transformed into a trendy haven for Glendale’s budding artist community. Once the artists arrived, the area had gone from a low-rent slum to becoming the most sought after real estate in all of Glendale.
    Armando’s gallery was on Seaborn Street, the most affluent street in the art district. The gallery my mother worked for was a few streets over, so we knew the kind of rent he must have been