The Boyfriend Contract

Ryan 

I think I’m in love with a man. 

   Or maybe I’m just really good at acting. It’s getting hard to tell, since we’ve been doing this for six months now, and it has graduated from being a public stunt to a private thing. 

  I take out a milk carton from the fridge and pour some into the bowl in front of me, conscious of the fact that Caleb is still asleep. Since he works night shifts at the hospital, he comes in really early in the morning and clocks out until afternoon or evening. 

       I sit on a stool in front of the kitchen island and fork cereal into my mouth. Caleb says that you’re supposed to use a spoon, so you can get some of the milk too, but I prefer it this way. I like it with just the barest hint of wetness, and then I drink from the bowl afterwards. 

I wish things were that simple with the thoughts I'm dealing with. 

"Hey, you." 

   I look up and a smile naturally forms on my face as Cabel opens the door of his room and walks out. It’s incredible how his hair seems to look good, even though his sleeping posture changes like ten times in the space of an hour. 

   “What time is it?” He asks. 

I check the grandfather clock we bought on a whim- but had stopped chiming. 

“Too early for you to be awake,” I reply. 

He smiles- his gums showing as always. When I first met him, I wondered why no one thought he had the best smile in the world. Because I do. 

   “I have to get ready for a date. This is my third time rescheduling and I think she’s going to never want to see me again if I don’t go today.”

I know the girl he’s talking about. The same one he’d been seeing off and on for three years. When we first began fake dating, she was against it and made sure I knew how she felt. 

   But she eventually came around, and Caleb made sure he compensated for the time we spent together by going on a date at least once a week. They go out and end up back here- locked in his room with a sock on the door handle. 

Even without the sock, I can tell what is going on in there because they aren’t exactly quiet. 

  And I’m not jealous either- or at least I don’t think I am. I date a lot of girls and I go out to the club every Friday, while Caleb has to work throughout the night. 

  I just wish there was someplace else he could her to. Of course, I would never tell him that. We agreed to respect each other’s decisions and privacy, no matter what. 

   I still have a copy of the agreement. 

  “You okay, Ryan?” 

I look up to find his face, mere inches from mine. I involuntarily take a deep breath and nod, not trusting myself to answer. 

  “You sure? You look a little flushed,” he brings his hand to my forehead and places his palm against it. “You are a little hot. Maybe you’re running a fever. You get one at least once every month. 

   I’ll take you to the doctor before I see Anna. Or, I’ll call her and ask if we can meet at a later time today.”

  “No!” My voice comes out sharper than  I want it to. “Don’t worry,” I say softly.

  “Sure?” 

Caleb's voice is soothing, and I nod. I want to tell him that I don’t have the flu, and that I want him to cancel the date with Anna and take me to the hospital instead, so I can spend more time with him.  

   That the agreement we have, is starting to get blurry. Because the feel of his palm against my forehead makes my heart race. But I know that it will sound foolish out loud, just like it sounds absurd in my head. 

  “If it gets worse, promise me you’ll go to the hospital?” 

I nod, and my heart begins to race again, when he places his hand over mine as a gesture to show that he cares. 

    When the door closes, I take a deep breath and pour the remaining contents of the bowl down my throat. What is going on with me? Caleb and I, have been putting on a stunt for six months- pretending to be dating so our overbearing parents can let us be. 

  His father has disowned him, while mine is still angry. But, he seems fine with the arrangement. Why then, am I getting affected? 

  •••

“You have someone here to see you,” my boss, Amy, who is the sweetest person in the world, tells me as soon as I walk through the door. 

  Before I can ask who it is, I see my mother walking towards us, her lips set in a tight frown. I sigh, a heavy weight settling on my shoulders. After leaving home, I had to find a new job and ended up getting a job here at the shelter. I assumed that my mother would not bother looking for me, as she would imagine that her son would be working in a place like this. 

  Turns out, I was wrong. 

“Thanks,” I tell Amy, and she smiles, touching my arm before walking away. 

  “What do you want?” I ask my mom, lowering my voice, so that no one overhears our conversation. My boss and coworkers have no idea who I am, and I am hoping to keep it that way. 

    “Is this why you haven’t come home? Your boyfriend, and a job that pays peanuts? Is this what you are sacrificing your life for, when you could have so much better?” she says, her voice rising. 

“Why did you come here? I’m not looking to start a scene at my workplace, and you could have simply just called. I don’t want you interfering in my life,” I tell her. 

        I am surprised that my mom can say the word, boyfriend when my father would not even acknowledge that my life exists outside of what he wants me to be. 

   “You never answer your calls, and I have no idea where you live. You don’t know what it took to find this place.” 

   It would have been better if she did not try in the first place. 

“Your father is not getting any younger, and I refuse to watch you waste your life when you could be doing something better. You are the heir to a conglomerate, Ryan. I know you want to be rebellious and all, but this has gone on for too long. Come home, and put your father’s worried heart at ease. 

   Your sister might send him to an early grave if you don’t do it first.” 

My father. I knew that my mother would not bring herself to visit a place like this, if it hadn’t been for my father. 

    “If he cares about his company so much, why won’t he visit and ask me to come home by himself?” I ask her. “Surely, he doesn’t think that his son is not worth his presence? Or because I am in love with someone he doesn’t approve of?” 

   “What do you know about love?” my mother interrupts. 

I start to reply, and give her the same rehearsed speech that Caleb and I gave to everyone when we first announced that we were dating, when I see him walk in through the door. Before I can tell him to leave, my mother turns around and sees him too. 

   “Looks like I know a lot, if the person I am in love with cares more about me than my father did for you, even though you’ve been married for over twenty five years,” I tell her, as I walk to Caleb and link my arm in his, flushing when he barely acknowledges my mom and kisses my forehead. 

  “Let’s go,” he tells me, and even though I know it is all an act, I cannot stop the feeling that fills me with giddiness as we make our way to the car. That is, until I see Anna in the passenger seat, staring at me. 

     “I thought you might need a ride home, because of your car. I didn’t think your mom would be there,” he tells me. 

   “Same,” I reply, but my voice is barely above a whisper. 

   When Caleb lets go of my arm, there is a sense of longing and sadness that accompanies me throughout the ride home.