Page 13 of The Boyfriend List
“So, that deal,” London says. “We should draw up terms.”
“That’s such a lawyer thing to say.” I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
The words are nonchalant enough, but inside, my heart is racing. Why did making this simple bet feel like it changed something fundamental about the core of our relationship?
After the table and his pants are mostly dried off—from London awkwardly standing in front of the small fans used to dry paint—we sit back down, writing on a napkin from the coffee shop.
“I, London Young, promise that I will date someone for longer two months or 61 days, if you, Gloria Romero, find a man who fulfills every quality on your boyfriend list by August 1st.” He glances up at me and frowns. “If I never see the list, how will I know whether he fits all the qualities? You could just make stuff up and pretend he’s your dream man.”
“I’ll show you the list when I meet the guy,” I blurt out. “Also, there’s no consideration for this contract. What do we get out of it? What happens if one of us can’t meet the terms?”
He runs a hand through his hair, putting his forearms on full display thanks to his rolled-up sleeves. “If you can find a man who meets all the listed qualities by August, I’ll go to karaoke with you and Raina like you’re always asking me to.”
I grin, rubbing my hands together. I’ve been bugging him to come to karaoke and sing for ages, but he insists he has a terrible voice and always refuses to. “You’ll actually sing a song, though, right? And can it be of our choosing? No rap.”
London turns up his nose at the mention of rap music. He’s such an elitist when it comes to music. “I assure you, I don’t listen to, nor will Ising, a rap song. If you can even call that singing.”
“You’re such a snob,” I tease. “And what if you can’t meet the terms by August?”
“Then I’ll get you concert tickets to SB19.”
I nod. Little does he know that’s an item on my boyfriend list. “Okay, my turn. If you date a woman for longer than two months, I’ll…”
“Come to my sister’s wedding with me in October,” he says abruptly. Then he blinks, like he even surprised himself.
“If you have a girlfriend, wouldn’t you go to the wedding with her?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I don’t want to expose her to my family.”
I remember my few interactions with his family. His parents have a troubled marriage, and it hasn’t gotten any better from the few things that he’s told me over the years. London doesn’t open up about his family a lot, but I can tell that they weigh on him. Yet, he goes back every week for family dinners.
“Okay.” I don’t love being around his family from my few experiences with them, but it’s for London. My friend. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to Savannah’s wedding with you.”
“Thank you, Gloria.” The sincere gratitude in his voice suggests more than relief at not needing to go to his sister’s wedding alone.
“And if I can’t meet the terms of the agreement…” I try to think of something London would like. “I’ll get you a Colouring World gift card?”
His brown eyes meet mine for a second, like there’s a secret he knows that I’m not being let in on. “I’d love a Colouring World gift card.”
We return to drafting the contract. He’s written all the terms in his messy scrawl— the one thing about him that’s not neat—and we read them beforesigning.
If London Young meets and dates a woman for longer than two months, Gloria Romero will go to his sister’s wedding with him. If he is unable to do so by August 1st, he will buy her concert tickets for SB19.
If Gloria Romero meets and dates a man who fulfills all the qualities on her boyfriend list by August 1st, London Young will go to karaoke with her and sing one song of her choosing. If she is unable to do so by August 1st, she will buy him a Colouring World gift card worth $100.
We both sign it.
Somehow as I push the napkin over to him and our fingers brush, it feels less like a joking contract between friends, and more like the start of something much more substantial.
Chapter Five: Gloria
“Raina! Finally!” I’ve been praying for her to pick up my FaceTime call despite the ten-hour time difference between Dorapolis and L.A.
“Of course! We wrapped up filming a few weeks ago so I’ve just been on ‘maternity leave’ in Dorapolis. I forced Kostas to bring me breakfast in bed and watch Downton Abbey with me. It’s great.” She grins. “But what’s up with you?”
“London and I made a deal.” I take a deep breath as I prop up the laptop on my knees, leaning back in the tufted orange armchair in my living room. “Or a bet. Or a contract. Or something.”
“Did you guys make a marriage pact?”
