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She let out a long sigh. “Enough about Derek. How was the fake date last night?”
“Oh, nothing interesting.”
“London, come on. Beau is super hot. How can there be nothing going on bet
ween you two?”
My cheeks had to be turning pink. I walked over to the sink to wash out my mug. “He’s just my class partner. Ok?”
“Something is going on with you. Why won’t you talk about Beau?”
“Because there is nothing to talk about. I’m going to go work on my blog for last night’s date.”
Before my best friend and former confidant could pester me with more Beau questions, I rushed to my room. I took a deep breath. I had to find a way to erase all of the emotion I felt for Beau and our sixth date while I threw in bits of class theory into the post.
Date Six Re-creation: Victoria takes a bachelor to a recording studio
Show myth to debunk: Exposure to romantic television will incite romantic feelings
Based on the principles of Cultivation Theory, the longer an individual is exposed to certain behaviors on television, the likelihood increases that the person will start to believe the world around them is just like the TV behavior. In our case, watching multiple episodes of Love Match should spawn romantic notions that life is a romantic fairy tale. Ultimately, the more lavish dates and love proclamations we watch, the more we should start having some of those feelings. That is—if the show was real.
On our sixth date, Beau and I recorded a song together in a local studio. Minus the famous singing celebrity, we did exactly what Victoria and her bachelor did. We laughed and goofed around over the lyrics, but in the end, the date concluded the same way it started.
My stomach was turning in knots. I couldn’t finish the blog. I knew this is what I had agreed to do, but lying about the date wasn’t the only thing bothering me. I didn’t want people to read my words and think I wasn’t completely falling head over heels for Beau.
I needed to talk to him. I looked down at my pjs. First, I had to change into clothes.
I banged on the apartment door with more force than I knew was in my fist.
“What?” one of the gaming roommates called.
“It’s London. Can I come in?”
“Sure, Paris. Come on.” I think it was the one Beau had identified as Russ. I walked into the mess they called the living room. He had a remote in one hand and a piece of pizza in the other.
“You’re not giving up the name joke are you?” I asked, scanning the apartment for my fake boyfriend.
“Nope. Beau’s in his room. Last door on the left.” He never took his eyes off the TV.
I sidestepped a pile of clothes that had been dumped in the middle of the room. I couldn’t tell if they were clean or dirty. Quietly, I walked down the hall, pausing in front of Beau’s room. The door was closed. Maybe I should have called him. I had never shown up like this before. Although, Russ didn’t seem like the most perceptive person. He wasn’t going to put two and two together.
I tapped lightly on the door before nudging it open.
Beau was sitting at his desk typing. “What, Russ? Are you stuck on level three?”
I giggled. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about level three.” I closed the door behind me.
“London? What are you doing here?” He crossed the room and wrapped me in a big hug. My feet dangled from the floor.
“We need to talk.”
“Uh-oh. That’s never a good way to start a conversation.” He carried me over to his bed and lowered me on the unmade covers.
“Beau, this is what happened last night. I tried to talk to you and you kept distracting me.” I turned my head from side to side so he couldn’t access my lips.
“I distracted you? I was there to do some stargazing and you know, I can’t remember seeing a single constellation.”
He started tickling my sides until I was erupting with laughter. “Beau, stop! Russ is out there.”
